The Bookstore Lady BlogMusings and books.
Historically, I’ve been something of a Grinch about Christmas. This is not to say that I actively try to deny people the holiday — no ornaments up my sleeves, no roast beast in my bag — but I have been known to, passive aggressively, make the holiday a miserable experience for those around me.
It is with great sorrow that I must relay news of the death of one of the bookstore’s most loyal customers.
I wanted Stuff as much as any other kid, but this feeling — deep and yet ephemeral — felt more important and bigger and much more adult than opening up that remote controlled truck I wanted so badly.
It is fitting then, that on the anniversary of the day my brief tenure in New York began to collapse, I am featured in a short film about my hometown’s downtown revival.
I wouldn’t call this a true review, just some thoughts and reflections I’ve been mulling over in the weeks since I read the advanced reading copy that came to me at the bookstore.
A good number of people come in the store and wonder aloud how great a job it must be to run a bookstore. The answer, in short: it’s a dream job. From here many of these same book-lovers ask how I got into the business, so here’s the history of The Bookstore Lady.