Gloom and Doom

A co-worker of mine just returned from Winter Institute in Salt Lake City, a book-sellers' weekend of educational classes and sessions to help independent stores share ideas and come up with new ways to promote themselves.

The two of us haven't had a lot of time to talk about the weekend, but from what she's told me, I must admit, I'm nervous.

It took me years to make the leap, but I've wanted to work in a bookstore since I was about 15, and I'm one of those "old-fashioned" booksellers who wants to hand-sell books, have cozy nooks to get lost in, etc., so the idea of installing print-on-demand machines and selling e-books, admittedly, turns my stomach a little. 

I don't just like words and prose, I like BOOKS.  I like the physical book; I like the covers; I like the weight of it my hands, and no, I don't mind carrying six with me everyday to work.   I don't like the idea of "curl up with a good Kindle."  

So, as a person who is coming into book-selling so late in the game, I admit, I'm a little bummed.  Is my dream over?

And I know that the answer to that question is: no.  No, it's not.  I just have to adjust my dream a little bit and become more open to ideas that seem foreign to me.  In a million years, I never thought I'd start my own book blog (I'm a paper and pencil kind of girl), and I've joined Twitter (which I'm slowly starting to get), and I know in time I'll adjust to these changes, but right now, for tonight, I'm going to bask in the glow of my overflowing bookshelves, surround myself with the six galleys I need to finish by the end of the week and remind myself - it's not over yet.

Buried