When I can afford the luxury, I enjoy sitting in the little used bookstore Read More Books that we run from a small commercial space in our home. Its location is prime, actually: on the main street, next door to a cafe (DISH) and a hair salon (The Gallery). The selection is mighty, if i do say myself, but business is slow. A large sign outfront would help, I know. And this is something I'll get around to someday.
For now, a bunch of booklovers and travellers (travellers always seem to find the place, and never complain about the lack of signage) drop in to browse and pick up a copy of this or that.
In the two years that Read More Books has been around, I've found it entertaining to watch the changing interests of readers. For example, last summer there was a run on Tom Robbins. It was unbelievable. It seemed that touring bands couldn't get enough. There were at least four bands on their separate ways across the country stopping in for T.R. books. The summer before, it was Barbara Kingsolver and Herman Hesse.
This year's been slow. There are not as many travellers about, it seems. Being mid-July, most of the townies have left town for their camps (what most people call cottages). So, we're here with the constant drone of vehicles passing by on their way to the next stop light, and the occassional pedestrian out for a stroll. And that's fine.
Here's what's been selling this summer:
Malcolm Gladwell, I've sold 6 copies of both Tipping Point and Blink;
Death in Venice by Thomas Mann -- not sure why, but there's been a run;
Robert Heinlein, plenty of movement there;
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood -- maybe its the Gulf of Mexico oil catastrophe or the announcement that scientists are less than a decade away from regenerating human organs, but something's in the air.
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