Box Store?

Jack’s regular Wednesday guest post examines his guilty conscience -

One of the areas of contention between Wendy and me regarding the bookstore is the thorny issue of ‘tidiness’ and cleanliness. To explain further – I favor the Aladdin’s Cave model of used bookstore, while Wendy would rather everyone be able to find any book easily through rigorous alphabetizing and categorizing. In addition, I have no sense of smell, so tracking down elusive cat pee is next to impossible for me.

I’m not oblivious to the delights of a clean and tidy store and I do get a satisfying feeling when it gives out that general ambience. I’d even admit to really appreciating visits to other bookstores that achieve that kind of slick well organized look. So, what to do?

The cleanliness and cat-pee problem is ably dealt with by our ‘wonder-woman’ Heather every Monday and even I appreciate the difference after she is finished.

However our other big problem is not having anywhere to easily store large donations of books when they appear by the box-load. A couple of bags is one thing, but eight or ten large boxes is something else and we can’t let them clutter up floor space. Sorting out the acceptable from the non-acceptable usually results in at least a couple of boxes of ‘throwaways’ and they need to go somewhere – at least temporarily. Up to now that has been the garage, but that has now been taken over by (horrors) a car!

MidGe in the garage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the point -

Two of our good friends, (mother and son), who are regular attenders at our various evening events, brought us ten large boxes of books just the other night. Another gripe – books are heavy, so shifting large boxes is back-breaking work. Luckily their taste in reading is eclectic so at least the collection can be spread pretty evenly throughout the store. While the needlework gang were busy setting the world to rights last night I made a start and, sure enough, out of the ten boxes I rapidly identified two boxes worth of ‘throwaways’ (actually three liftable boxes).

We absolutely hate throwing away books and will even turn them into planters or hand-bags and purses to avoid that terrible fate, but sometimes it just has to be done (I think the reason the garage filled up with books is for just that reason).

Today is garbage day and I have a heavy heart – not only because the erstwhile contents of the garage wait at the curbside, but there are three boxes sitting forlornly waiting the same fate.

Mea Culpa!

The Bookstores of Philadelphia

Well, the houses are big and beautiful, and the bookstores are closing and opening.

Not all of them, mind, but Philadelphia is losing Robin’s Books, one of its oldest and largest stores. The current proprietor, turning 70 this year, inherited it from his grandfather, and kept it running more than thirty years.

But all good things come to an end, and in its ending, other stores find their forward thrust and even beginnings.

Philly still has bookstores: today we visited the Crooked Mile, with its 70,000-strong stock count, another one that was snooty so shall remain nameless, and then Ann’s very cool shop, The Spiral Bookcase. Spiral is a primarily used bookstore, although Ann had gone to a lot of trouble to make a lovely display of my new book, complete with paper sculpted teacup.

Ann’s only been in business two years, and her staff cat Amelia has been in position less than six months, so it’s a new concern all the way around. All the better, then, that it got voted Philadelphia’s best bookstore this year.

It is a bummer that Robin’s is closing. They did all the right things: moved from predominantly new to mostly used; changed their hours to meet the needs of the changing populations downtown; even stopped drawing salaries and just took living expenses from the store.

But as they are going, it is very nice to see the young blood coming: Ann is energetic, her store is full of white Ikea shelves she assembled herself, and Amelia is an excellent customer relations specialist. Clearly they have a bright future. It is not “bookstores are doomed.” It is the circle of bookstore life; as one door closes, another opens. Huzzah for we happy few, we band of booksellers.