As the adrenaline rush of another successful Independent Bookstore Day gradually recedes in our collective rear view mirrors (though, hopefully, objects are always closer than they appear) and the day-to-day realities of doing "the work" return, maybe just a little more basking in the afterglow is still in order.
Although SA covered IBD and Canadian Independent Bookstore Day in some detail earlier this week, I left out a few CIBD observations worth sharing, so I'm returning to the scene of the fun to highlight them:
#AuthorLoveNotes
As part of the lead-up to CIBD, the Canadian Independent Booksellers Association featured a series of #AuthorLoveNotes to indies from writers like Niigaan Sinclair, who said, "I want to talk to you today about independent bookstores and the role that they play in community. An independent bookstore isn't just a place that sells books--and that's important. They absolutely provide an essential service to that community, but it's a place of intersections. It's a place where people come to not just peruse talk, visit, maybe have a cup of coffee, but also to meet ideas. To meet the authors of those ideas and to disseminate and share those ideas in open conversation."
Author Canisia Lubrin said: "Hey, you're an indie bookshop. One of a few blissful things in this world: mangoes, people I love to spend the hours with, books especially from independent bookstores. On this last one, you can leave me anywhere nearby. And the one or two people to greet, the someone who will hold on to all my booktalk like pillars. And you who aren't me? They'll know what you love if you're a regular; and if you're not, they'll quickly get to know how to dispense ISBNs just for you, like the great book dealers they are. Come with me now."
"There is no such thing as just a reader"
Type Books Queen West in Toronto offered up a wonderful "love letter" to the bookshop's patrons, noting in part: "On the occasion of Canadian Independent Bookstore Day, we are thinking about book spaces. We are thinking about public libraries, cafés, nightstands, living rooms, and the untranslatable role of independent bookstores among them. We are thinking about how our greatest responsibility is to you, the Reader. We are recalling a memory. We once overheard a conversation between two customers that ended with one of them saying, 'I'm not a writer, I'm just a reader.' We wish we'd interrupted. We wish we'd insisted: There is no such thing as just a reader. We are thinking about how readers make our existence possible.
"We are thinking about the invisibility of the act of reading versus the visibility of moving through a bookstore. We are thinking about what new shapes of thought become possible when the public and the private constellate. We are looking at the shelves, dreaming and desiring. We are thinking about collaboration and the flare that blazes when a new book finds a new reader.... We are trying to clear a path, or many paths. Books, and the ideas and images inside them, are our tools. The outsides of books count, too: their design determines inexpressible, and limitless, choreographies. The apprenticeship is ongoing. These books are our objects of study."
Archiving "a little bit of that magic"
She Does the City asked several Toronto booksellers what their favorite thing about working at a bookstore is, and Jessica Kasiama of Type Books Junction replied: "I love hearing about the reading lives of customers and coworkers. These conversations and interactions, although sometimes fleeting, feel like being given a snapshot of a life. At our Junction location, our bookselling team runs a Substack called The Juncture, which has given us a place to interview our favorite authors and regular customers, as well as share monthly reflections on what we're reading and discovering in our own lives. It's been nice to archive a little bit of that magic."
"Want some real magic?"
In "An Ode to Independent Booksellers," Globe & Mail columnist Marsha Lederman wrote: "Want some real magic? Might I suggest a place of abundance that offers the experience of leafing through actual books and strolling down shelf-lined aisles, rather than having your fingers do the walking (ancient preinternet reference, kids, to something we elders called The Yellow Pages.) Rather than trust the algorithmic river of e-commerce with aiding the purchase of your next book (along with perhaps some kitty litter and baby wipes), you can visit a place that is devoted to literature, with dedicated, IRL staff who make suggestions based on actual knowledge and experience, rather than a programmed computer formula. Magical."
"A space that builds community"
Noting that in the post-CIBD buzz the shop had gained a lot of new followers, Once Upon a Bookstore, Kelowna, B.C., shared a story about its genesis and goals: "Our store was born out of a desire to offer a space that builds community--where families felt welcome to bring their kids and be themselves. However that looks. The store is designed in a child friendly away--allowing young kids to play while parents browse, and structured by age group, so that parents can spend less time wading through endless options, and more time making informed choices.... We love to connect with our customers--so please come on in for a visit and let us share our passion for children's literature with you."
And now, back to the work.