Hello, it is I, your friendly local, neighbourhood independent bookspider man and this is the next update live from the bookshop.
It won’t surprise you to hear that it’s chucking it down, again. This poses The Open-Door Dilemma. An open door on a wet day is an invitation to a passerby who feels momentarily fed up of being rained on. They duck into the bookshop for a short reprieve and, yes, in theory, they could fall in love with a bunch of books and spend a big wad of money they didn’t intend to. Or they could come in, shake themselves off like a wet dog next to all the very unwaterproof stock and stomp some slick footprints all over the floor before realising the rain isn’t letting up any time soon and leave. A closed door would likely stop the “what shop even is this?” type-of-ducker, but could also deter a genuinely interested book-ditherer. What to do, what to do…
These posts will remain free, with comments open like our door so you can send me queries like ‘Do you close the door when it gets really cold?’1 and ‘Who are you calling a book-ditherer?’
One of the nice things about working with your mum is that the only other person who will be in next, is related to you. Left your soup in the fridge? Mum can have it for her lunch. Left washing up in the sink? Mum will do it (it’s like the old days!). Left your scarf in the office? Mum can wear it. Because the next person at the till will only ever be Business Mum, I can leave notes like ‘I didn’t get around to XYZ because I was reading something really good’ and ‘Can you ring Mrs. XYZ because I don’t want to.’ Some days I come in to find notes from my mum that say things like ‘Have you picked book club for next month?’ or ‘Remember to send the order today!’ but today there is a note that just has a heart and a kiss on it, next to a mini Fudge bar.
Delivery! It’s 40 copies of next month’s book club choice, which I’m not going to reveal here yet, but I’ll tell you now it’s a paperback re-issue from one of my fav publishers, and the cover describes it as ‘chilling’, ‘sinister’ and ‘masterly’. Ooooo…
My book clubs are currently reading North Woods by Daniel Mason. I’ll be holding our in-person meetings for that book on Monday 30th October but I’ll be opening the online discussion for paid subs next week. I can’t wait to hear what you thought of it!
11.07 No customers - or browsers! - yet, EVEN THOUGH I LEFT THE DOOR OPEN.
Another delivery! This time it’s some spredged copies of The Winter Spirits; Ghostly Tales for Frosty Nights. I’m a firm believer in ghost stories at Christmas, and this handsome collection is host to some great writers including Kiran Millwood Hargrave, Susan Stokes-Chapman, Laura Shepard-Robinson, Imogen Hermes Gowar and my go-to-guy for spooky stories, Andrew Michael Hurley. It even features some writers who only have two names but are none the less impressive like Stuart Turton, Natasha Pulley, Jess Kidd, Laura Purcell, Catriona Ward, Bridget Collins and Elizabeth Macneal. I was only going to mention a few of the names there and ended up including them all because they’re all writers I’ve actually heard of and regularly sell books by; £16.99 is starting to sound like a real bargain for this one.
12.23. First browser comes in from the rain. “Aren’t you cold with this door open?” She buys a book. Success! “Shall I shut this for you?” she offers at the door on her way out. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine” I say, like the bravest person whoever lived. “If it hadn’t been open, you might not have come in!” She considers this, and nods. The Open Door Dilemma rests its case.
I mean there is no way to spin this, there are just no customers today. No one is walking past so no one is walking past while saying something hilarious. The best thing that’s happened outside the window is seeing a Range Rover trying to parallel park on the hill and then giving up, which is only funny because I’m good at parallel parking. Going to make a cup of tea. No one say anything mad while I’m in the back.
13.50. Finally! A lady comes in for a gorgeous book for a little girl who is four. We select Alice Melvin’s glorious Mouse’s Wood which is a ridiculously good present for £7.99. This book is so special, with flaps to peek behind and die-cut pages to turn. I love it and it has lovely woodland information at the back that the lady said would be perfect because this little girl goes on nature walks with her mum. That’s a bingo.
Thank goodness a local antique shop recommended us as a good place to come and buy wrapping paper to some of their visitors. Said visitors found the bookshop “this must be it!” and bought four sheets of our most luxurious wrapping paper and then got blindsided by our irresistible wooden dinosaurs, taking five little fellows with them that they did not know they needed. Sale exceeded twenty quid, doubling the days takings so far.
I feel I should point out, on days like this, of which there are many, when the footfall is genuinely non-existent, there are a few factors that still make our particular “business” gently viable; school supply - we’ve had a big school bill paid recently that means this month has already out performed last October, Bookshop.Org, we’ve got some additional sales going on remotely that will add a little bit to the week’s takings, and minimal outgoings in that I am the sole member of staff working today and I haven’t put the heating on. Plus, we don’t really pay ourselves very much.
Horrible day!
A lady calls over her shoulder instead of goodbye.
I got to wrap this lovely train book in lovely train paper for a little boy’s birthday present. Choo choo, hope he likes it. Apparently he’s a real train enthusiast at age 5, which is so adorable and reminds me of the incredibly tiny girl who came to the shop once and told me that one of the trains in Thomas was a “Narrow Gauge Engine”.
4pm. Final hour. We’ve had a couple more sales, paperbacks. One man tucked his purchase into his jacket which is one of those things handbagless men seem to do and always slightly impresses me because why doesn’t it fall straight out of the bottom of the jacket? Also it makes me think of that photo of Paul McCartney being a peak hot dad.
Husband and daughter have arrived to drive me home (it’s still raining), so even though hilarious stuff could be happening outside the shop I will not be able to hear it anymore. Hilarious stuff could be happening in the bookshop and I will no longer be able to hear it because daughter is in my ear asking if she can eat the biscuits and turn all the signs on the door to closed even though we’re open for another twenty minutes yet. She’s gone in the back room while I cash up and I can hear her asking my husband to ‘come and look for me’ even though she’s stood in plain sight.
HOME TIME: Only nine actual books sold today. Never mind. We’ll try again tomorrow.
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If Mary Portas asks, No! Never! But really, yes, of course.
Going to make a cup of tea - I wonder, does this pretty much solve everything? Obviously not but there is just something so comforting about making a cup of tea. It’s like the great pause in the day. It somehow creates a shift...
These are so wonderful to read - thank you!
handbaglessmen are an epidemic honestly - a book under a coat in the RAIN? I’m stressed just thinking about it