ordinary things
on romanticizing & loving bookstores
Hey! You’re here. Thank you.
I don’t know about you, but I am taking things pretty day by day here. Yesterday Yaya and Dunkin and I went on a nice little walk after work. Yaya’s little legs were speeding down the street let me tell you. Dunkin and I could barely keep up.
On Monday, things felt hard so we got Pistachio iced coffee from Dunkin (not the dog) and I’m not saying it made everything better, but it certainly didn’t make it worse.
I know I’m not the first one to say this, but do you ever think maybe the little things are the big things?
In that spirit, here’s a little book report about a book that reminded me how to love the small, supposedly ordinary things in this big, scary world.
Ordinary Time by Annie B. Jones
Annie B. Jones is a bookstore owner and podcaster I’ve been following for years. Annie owns The Bookshelf , an independent bookstore in Thomasville, Georgia. A dear friend of mine grew up in Thomasville and years ago she told me that the independent bookstore in her tiny southern town had a podcast. I started tuning in and I’ve been following Annie and The Bookshelf ever since. The best part of the story is that my friend Caroline is now the Marketing and Events Manager at the Bookshelf and, long story short, I feel more deeply connected than I ever thought possible to this little independent bookstore in rural, south Georgia in which I’ve never stepped foot.
On paper, Annie B. Jones and I have very little in common. On paper, Broadside Bookshop (the little store in western Massachusetts where I work) and The Bookshelf have even less in common. I went into Ordinary Time thinking I would read about an experience of bookselling and bookstore ownership that was miles away from my own. Illuminating, fun, and cozy, but not relatable. That is not what I found.
Like Annie, I stumbled into bookselling because I love reading more than almost anything and I had a teeny tiny Kathleen Kelly inspired fantasy. Like Annie, I never considered myself any kind of businesswoman and I’m scared almost all the time.
Reader, take it from me, and take it from Annie: bookselling is never like the You’ve Got Mail fantasy. It is chaotic and full of surprises and unexpected stresses and small margins. Customers are often rude and condescending. There is so much dust.
I have to admit that based on the photos I had seen of the Bookshelf, I somehow didn’t think they had these problems. Where we are dusty and sometimes grumpy and often overwhelmed, I figured the Bookshelf was immaculate and always cheery and fully unflappable.
In reading Annie’s new book I realized my own magical thinking. The Bookshelf might be in a small town in the south and Broadside in a small town in New England. Yes, The Bookshelf might have a more intentional (and minimalist lol) aesthetic than Broadside, but at the end of the day we are doing the same work.
In her essays on running the Bookshelf, Annie details the joys and heartaches of this work, and I saw myself and my store on those pages. She writes about some of the horrific things customers have said to her over the years. She writes about the deep, abiding love she and her team have for their regulars, and the ache when beloved elderly customers pass away. She writes about the highs and lows of bookselling in a way that felt deeply familiar.
I opened Ordinary Time thinking that Annie and I were strangers, that Broadside and the Bookshelf were distant cousins at best. I was wrong.
I’m not saying independent bookstores can save us, but I think that can lead us to each other and that has to mean something. There are as many different kind of independent bookstores as there are books on our shelves and that’s a blessing.
Ordinary Time is not just about bookselling. It’s about loving the work you do and forging an identity outside of it. It’s about leaving the Church that no longer fits your values. It’s about holding onto the faith that still does. It’s about marriage, and deciding whether or not to have children, and building a life around books.
It’s about loving a dog named Sam Malone.
You know that feeling when you go into a book expecting it to be a window and actually it’s a mirror?
Here’s what Annie has to say about her life as a reader.
“A love of books is the through line of my life, a hobby I can trace back to my earliest childhood memoires and immediately weave through my middle school and high school selves, right into my choice of university and selection of my spouse. I wanted to be a writer because of books, and when the opportunity came to own a bookstore, that love of books played a huge role in my scared-but-brave yes.”
To this all I can say is: Me too.
We were never strangers.
And finally, a friendly reminder that one of the best things about the internet is that it allows us to support indie bookstores all across the country. Even ones in small towns in rural Georgia that we might never get to visit. The Bookshelf is a lovely, real shop and I’m done romanticizing her. Now I’m just going to support her.
Ordinary Time by Annie B. Jones comes out April 22nd and I am grateful for it.
But also don’t stop romanticizing bookselling. It’s harder thank you think, and, somehow, even more beautiful.
I love you.
I’m glad you’re here.
Love,
Rosamond
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