What did we ever do to offend independence?

So, everybody knows we had a fire last year on July 4th.  What you may not know:  Yesterday, the start of the long July 4th weekend, we were hit by lightning.  Hail the size of golf balls came down on the Vineyard.  And the lightning fried some of our wiring and blew some of our fuses.  It took us until this morning to get all computers up and running again, so we had to close for much of yesterday.  What you didn’t see from outside was that we also had a minor flood in the basement.

So, I think next year for July 4th, I’ll celebrate by hiding under the covers. Or, as one onlooker said, “Maybe that place ought to have an exorcism.”

So, I’m asking whatever power resides above, for the rest of this grand opening celebration, would you mind not throwing anything down fom the sky that could be used in the instrumental case with the verb “to smite”?

That’d be awesome. Thanks.

You Should Have Been Here

“Most books, like their authors, are born to die; of only a few books can it be said that death has no dominion over them; they live, and their influence lives forever.”

– William Styron

As we’ve compiled our list of Island authors who will join us for signings to celebrate our reopening, we’ve been continually amazed by the depth of talent that lives here.    We are incredibly lucky to have such a community of authors, all so willing to support us.

But as we get closer, we keep coming back to a few authors who will be sorely missed this July 4th.  William Styron, Art Buchwald, Phil Craig and John Walter, publisher of Vineyard Stories.

We know without doubt that you would have been here, supporting us, celebrating with us.  You are in our thoughts, and we take comfort that we will always have our memories and your words.

Security Blanket Books

My sister just asked me whether a raccoon ate me since my net presence hasvanished in the past week.  That means that no matter how busy it is, it’s time to blog.  So here’s to finally putting in writing something I was thinking about a few weeks back (I’m actually finishing a draft post that was dated June 3rd. Yikes!)….

I spent the last couple days very much enjoying When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead.  It’s out in July from Random House and I’ll have to tell you about it then because it’s really fantastic.  But one of the things that first caught my attention in the book was that the main character is always reading/talking about/carrying with her a copy of her favorite book, A Wrinkle in Time.  She’s never without it.  I thought it was funny that she latched so tightly to that one specific book and refused to move on to others.  But then again…

This month I’m experiencing the very Vineyard summer shuffle.  I lost my housing right at the worst possible time to find a place on the Island and the apartment I found won’t be ready until July 1st.  So I’m camping for a month. (That’s right, America: we’re actually insane on the Vineyard.)  The hardest part of putting all my stuff into storage was choosing 1 measly little box of books to keep with me.

Like all of you, I’m sure, I never quite know what I’ll want to be reading next, so to try to project out a month was daunting to say the least.  (And yes, I know I work in a bookstore and not only can buy books every day, but am sent free ones on a regular basis as well…  Logic means nothing to the anightstandophobia.)  I went for an assortment of target ages, genres, lengths, hoping that I would be able to find something in that box to fit any mood.

But as I packed, I realized that I had to take up space with a book that I probably would not read this month.  Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke.  I’ve had it with me since I first read it in high school.  I used to go back to it more often than I do now, but I haven’t been able to put it anywhere except right on my nightstand or desk, always where it won’t get lost among all the other books.

So the letters came camping with me.  Probably silly, but they make any place I am feel like home.

And now it’s gotten me wondering: do other people have books like this? Books that have gone beyond the words, or the story, so that the physical object acts as a security blanket? I know plenty of people who must always have books around, but what about one specific book?

What’s your security blanket book?

(And yes, I’m refusing to put a picture of Letters to a Young Poet on here because I can’t find a picture of the book with the cover I own…  or the creased edges and coffee stains…)

Dear Blog

Dear Blog,

I’m sorry, dear neglected Blog; I’ve abandoned you.

In the cold slow winter months on the Island, exiled to our tiny box store, I used you.  You occupied my time.  You fulfilled some of my need for book talk. You were such a good listener.

Then, with the frenzy of stocking the big store, the labor of the move, the chaos of the opening, I left you for my To Do list.

I did think of you, Blog.  On opening day, my flip and my camera were in my pocket, but grand plans for recording the day quickly fled before a line 5 deep at the register.

The days running up to the opening, I was already planning the post about it.  I was so certain how I’d feel that day: the swelling emotions, the teary eyes, the humble gratitude.  There were no words that covered the depth of my as-of-yet-non-existent responses.  My post about “no words to express my feelings” was already at least a page long.  It was beautiful.  You would have loved it and cried over the reading.

It turns out, that’s not how it was.  There is a word for opening day.

Joy

This has been such a long haul.  This last month, when the shelves were in and we were stocking the store, I kept telling people how much they would love it.  As we got closer to June 13, I started to get nervous– what if I was wrong?  So every time someone told me it was perfect…

Joy

Every time someone found a book they thought they would not find…

Joy

Every time someone told me a story of their memories of the old BoG, then said this new incarnation fulfilled every memory, but added new possibility…

Joy

I had spent the 3 days prior to opening agonizing over the arrangement of books in the kid section.  No matter how I put the books, I wasn’t satisfied.  It never looked right.  Eventually I gave up.  It was as good as it could get.

Opening morning: within 45 minutes, the kids had torn it all up.  They were chasing each other with puppets, pulling books off shelves and generally acting the tornado.

I looked at the chaos and sighed.  It was finally right.  My kid section had been missing kids.

Joy

Things are headed back to normal.  The chaos dial is not quite at 11 any more. But I can still feel that heady carbonated buzz bubbling just beneath the surface.

Joy

So, dear Blog, I am taking some pictures today, maybe some video, knowing I can’t capture the wonder of this space.  I’ll share it.  I hope to visit you more regularly.  And above all, I wish you

Joy.

Kisses,

Katherine

Events page

I just want to point your eyes upward so that you notice there is now a tab for events so that you can start marking your calendars for the summer.

It’s Finally Official

I know I’ve promised lots of maybe whens here, but I’ve finally got a date that I honestly, truly believe will be opening day back on Main St.  June 13.  It’s going to happen.  We will be selling books at 44 Main St on June 13.

This will still be a soft opening for us, so when you come in, it may not be exactly what we’ve dreamed up for you.  We’ll still have a few more shelves on their way, a few more signs, a few more books, but we figure you’d rather have the store open than have it perfect.

We will have grand opening hooplah on July 4, but we hope you’ll stop by earlier.  The store is beautiful and we can’t wait for you to see it.

Welcome home, books.

I spent this afternoon doing my first serious shelving back at the big store.  This is something I’ve been waiting for with an anticipation so sharp my stomach aches a little.

We’ve had so many sweet offers of help for shelving the books (and thank you all, we appreciate it so much), but I admit, I’ve wanted to save these first few days of shelving for myself.  Come back in a week, and I’m sure I’ll be exhausted and crying for help, but right now I’m holding it to myself like a greedy child…  a child who made up her own card catalog system to organize the books in her bedroom when she was 11.

So today, I went up to the second floor by myself, opened all the windows to the gorgeous sunny day, blasted the soundtrack to Across the Universe, sang along…  and shelved my books.

I knew that I would love getting lost in this process.  There is something so soothing about applying an organization to these thousands of bits.  Something so satisfying about laying hands on each book that is here today because I ordered it.  As each book passes through my hands, I know that there is someone waiting for it, someone for whom this book will be exactly what they need.

Each of these books has such a history to it… a hundred gateways it passed to get to this place… author, illustrator, agent, publisher, rep, buyer; each of us brought it to this place for a reason.  But more than history, each of these books holds potential.  They are waiting.  Waiting for the next set of hands to pick them up.  And these shelves are the crossroads.

The joy that I hadn’t anticipated was seeing the return of favorites that just couldn’t fit at the temporary store.  All those personal loves that don’t sell enough to justify carrying in a tiny space.  As I picked each one up from the box, there was the inevitable slam of memory as I relived the first time I read it, the time that I fell in love with it, the time I sold it to someone who needed it, or the time a customer returned to rave about it.  And there was the thrill that it’s back in my store where it belongs.

So welcome home, Solla Sollew.  Welcome home, Chocolate War.  Welcome home, Little Red Lighthouse.  Welcome home, Fox in Sox.  Welcome home, Lizzie Bright.  Welcome home, Maggie Quinn.  Welcome home, Ollie and Gossie and Gertie.  Welcome home, Brief Chapter in My Impossible Life.  Welcome home.

Main Street Update

Hi guys,

Just wanted to let everyone know the status…  as always, there are a lot of factors not in our control, so none of these are promises, only hopes.

We hope to be open on Main St on June 6 (again, please keep checking back because there’s still a lot to be done between now and then).  That means that the last day open at the little store will be May 30.  Until then, keep coming to see us on Church Street.  We are open every day from 9 to 6.

The Main St store is really starting to shape up.  I can’t wait for you all to see our gorgeous new shelves.  It’ll be a bit different, but I know you’ll love it.  I already do, and we still haven’t put in the books!

AND THEY’RE OFF

(Cindy Pierson Dulay at www.horse-races.com)

Today is the second leg of the Triple Crown, the Preakness.   I thought it would be appropriate to write about horse books.

My daughter has long been a horsewoman.   When she was younger, I helped let the horses out, bought the grain, got up long before the crack of dawn to make breakfast on horseshow day.   I’ve washed girth fuzzies and walked sick horse.   Naturally, I am drawn to horses and books about them.

Sarah Gruen wrote two horse books prior to her well-known Water For Elephant……… Riding Lessons and Flying Changes.   A young woman returns to her parents’ horse farm in New Hampshire with her wild teenage daughter.    She relives her fears of a previously bad horse accident and sees much of her teenage self in her daughter.

A memoir Chosen by a Horse is Susan Richards story of being a whiny woman who feels sorry for herself until she takes in an abused, sick and neglected horse.   She learns about love, strength and forgiveness from this poor, but gentle animal.

Hearts of Horses by Molly Gloss is a novel about a young woman in Oregon during WWI, when women took over jobs for men who had gone to war.   Martha Lessen saddles up her horse and heads for rural Oregon  to gentle wild horses.   She uses soft words and songs instead of whips and hobbles.   The men come to respect her and the women become her friend.   She even learns to wear a skirt.

Bookseller Fantasy Life

This morning I had a discussion with a customer, sharing our mutual love for Wait, Wait.. Don’t Tell Me.  This segued into This American Life love, and she admitted that she’s always thought she could be good friends with Ira Glass and has imagined going for coffee with him.

I know exactly what she’s talking about.  There are some authors where I would love to hear them speak, but would be too intimidated to have a conversation with them.  There are some authors, I don’t even want to know what they look like.  I want to keep my relationship with them strictly to the books.  And there are some, I want to go to a party at their house.

My favorite fantasy author relationship is with Sarah Vowell.  My favorite book of hers is Assassination Vacation, but I love all of them (yes, even Radio On).  But everything that she’s involved with just makes me love her more.  This American Life, she’s a McSweeney’s person, The Incredibles…  and the video essay she has on the DVD extras is adorable and fantastic.  Every time she’s on The Daily Show, she’s hilarious and shares my political views exactly.  The people she has doing the audio book for Assassination Vacation reveals my intense rolodex envy…  Jon Stewart, Daniel Handler, Catherine Keener, Conan, and on…

A couple years back, I remember reading Nick Hornby (I think it was in one of The Believer “Stuff I’ve Been Reading” columns) saying he had been to a party at Violet Incredible’s house.  Could you imagine being at a party with Nick Hornby and Sarah Vowell?  And she knows the Daily Show people, so maybe Jon Stewart would show up, or even John Hodgman… could they possibly bring Demetri Martin along?  She works on This American Life, so would Ira Glass come to the party?  Maybe he would bring Peter Sagal with him… they must know each other, right?  That imaginary party would be the best party ever.  And you know she’d have killer music.

So, um, Sarah, if you’re listening and you don’t think I’m a stalker, give me a call sometime…  I could even show you the Island’s awesome Civil War statue… no exaggeration, it has 4 plaques on it.  The fourth plaque is explaining all the other plaques.  You would love it.