Tag Archives: Wendy Welch

Stephen King’s Basement?

Posted on by
4

crime scene 003Stephen King says that writers have trap doors in their minds, and most ideas occur above them. Below the door is a basement full of sludge, hiding alligators; the secret of good horror and crime writing is to keep the gators fed, or they will break out and take over, and the world will become a real mess.

Imagine what went through my mind last night, then, when I arrived home to find these scenes in my little basement writing nook.

crime scene 010While Jack and I had a “yeah, we’re famous” three-day fun run through book festivals (Thank you, VA Festival of the Book, Clifton Forge, and Mountain Empire Community College!) the bookshop was left in the capable and devious hands of a few friends. Witness their creative touches. I may have to make that “Shining” salute my new FB profile pic.

And Bob enjoyed investigating the “blood.”

crime scene 012

The Russell Crowe poster references his unfortunate soul-searching solo at the edge of the bridge as Javert in Les Mis, six minutes so painful that, sitting alongside these same friends in the theatre, I heard myself yell at the screen, “For the love of God, somebody push him!”crime scene 015

(The guy can’t sing, and he’s really not convincing as someone who could ever doubt himself, either.)

So, keep the gators fed? Yeah, man. But keep your friends close–or you never know what they’ll do with a little cornstarch, some free time, and unfettered access to your basement.crime scene 016

A Little Help from our Friends

Posted on by
2

Jack guest blogs on the value of friendships, especially in small town shops

This weekend we are once again on our travels with book events, from the John Fox Festival here at home, through a visit to Clifton Forge Library, and then on to the Virginia Festival of the Book in Charlottesville. As usual when we are away for a few days our friends rally round to staff the bookstore on rota.

Just call us The Little Book Co-op of Big Stone Gap.

These friends handle book sales, oh yes, but there are also the shop animals to care for, boxes of donated or traded in books to be valued and priced (or politely refused), mail to be collected and opened for book orders, and phone inquiries to be responded to. Although amazed that anyone would be willing to take this on, we are delighted that we have so many friends who will. They represent one aspect of the community presence of our bookstore; we really are almost a co-operative owned by its customers. Quite often a ‘regular’ will be hanging out, checking e-mails or browsing the bookshelves, when suddenly he finds himself in charge of the shop for ten minutes while I do a post office run or dash out for milk.

Occasions like this weekend require a bit more pre-planning, but, despite other calls on folks’ time, we always manage to keep the shop open. We never succumb to the erosion of hours, no matter how tempting; it’s our observation that when small businesses become careless about that, their days are numbered.

So, we pay homage to the many friends of ‘Tales of the Lonesome Pine’ AKA ‘The little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap’.  And we also salute Mark and Sally Smith of Memphis, who are coming to watch the shop for two weeks in April while we get our Christmas and birthdays 2012 and 2013/Valentine’s Day/fifteenth wedding anniversary holiday in. (We’re going to Istanbul. It’s expensive. We’ve been saving for months and we’re going to have the time of our lives.)

You’re going to love Big Stone, Mark and Sally, and they’re gonna love you. Our thanks to you all for keeping the shop while we’re running about promoting a book about bookstores. There’s a certain full-circle feel about it, don’t you think?

For more examples of how people have rallied to their community bookstores, check out the March 18 Christian Science Monitor article detailing bookstores that have been moved, staffed, or even cooked for by locals lending a hand. If you’re in Illinois (Edwardsville, to be precise) check out Afterwords Bookstore, a lovely shop with a similar story. Or ask your local bookshop about their ‘co-op’ friends. They’re guaranteed to have some.