In his pre-Christmas Editor's Letter ("Let the tills ring out for the trade"), the Bookseller's Philip Jones began with an ode to bookstore-themed movies and novels tied to (obsessed with?) the holiday, in which "the shop is threatened by closure, until--at the last--the spirit of Yuletide intervenes."
"I write this slightly jovial fare not to diminish the efforts we have all made over the past 11 and a half months," he observed, "a time during which we have battled everything and everyone from tech giants to our own government, to the European Union, through to those who would cancel us, ban us, undermine us and even rob us. We know there are no saccharine solutions available to us in real life."
If the book trade were a Christmas tale, he added, "a last-minute glitch--perhaps a distribution snafu or an unexpected tax increase--would doubtless threaten the satisfactory and affecting denouement we all want. But, luckily, not only are we the recipients of the stories others tell, we are also creators of the magic. In our story, we are champions of the chance encounter, experts in hope and inspiration, and purveyors of cheer--whatever the season."
For indie booksellers, the final week before Christmas is every kind of story (drama, comedy, thriller, adventure, romance, mystery, and more) wrapped into one. So much is at stake and so much can go terribly wrong, with badly timed snowstorms and power outages at the top of the Bad Santa list. Although I haven't worked in a bookstore during "the rush" for a long time, somehow the Bookseller Spirit of Christmases Past still haunts.
I joined the Shelf Awareness team in 2006, making this my 20th week-before-Xmas column. The first one was headlined "Reading & the 'True Spirit' of the Holidays." I just reread it a few days ago ("I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the Spirit. "Look upon me!" as Charles Dickens put it), with whatever perspective I've gained about my chosen profession over the years.
The essential message still rings true, I think. So it seems appropriate to end my 20th anniversary Christmas week column with a visit from that particular ghost of columns past, published on December 22, 2006.
I began, as one does this time of year, with a passage from A Christmas Carol:
They went, the Ghost and Scrooge, across the hall, to a door at the back of the house. It opened before them, and disclosed a long, bare, melancholy room, made barer still by lines of plain deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire; and Scrooge sat down upon a form, and wept to see his poor forgotten self as he used to be.
And then I wrote: "The search for the 'true spirit' of the holiday season is not an easy task, and is perhaps made even more complicated because the reader in me tends to identify with the boy by the feeble fire, while the person whose livelihood depends upon selling books can't help feeling just a little sympathy for old Ebenezer counting out his coins.
"As a longtime bookseller, I've grown accustomed to experiencing the holiday season as an ongoing drama of comparing daily sales figures to last year's numbers and obsessing over re-ordering strategies.
"This is at once an exhilarating and intimidating time of the year. Some days 'bah, humbug' doesn't seem like an overreaction to unpredictable weather, late deliveries or demanding customers. Wise and prescient ghosts of past, present and future seldom visit us with neat, plot twisting solutions to our multilayered dilemmas.
"So how do we remember in such times that this mad world we've chosen to live and work in is still primarily about something as simple and complex as putting the right words together so that someone will read them?
"When I was a kid, the words 'true spirit of Christmas' were wrapped up beautifully in the stories I read and heard, stories from Dickens as well as the nuns at school. These tales reminded urchins like me that the holidays were about more than tinsel and toys, and I suspect I will always feel an emotional tug for young Scrooge reading by the feeble fire as well as Nativity scenes. I'm sure you have your own variations on that theme.
"And if you are reading these words, chances are that you read as I read, to sift the world's cacophony into understandable (on good days, at least) measures. We read to live. We read to find our way in the world. We read this time of year to encounter, if we can, the true spirit of the holiday season. That spirit is not always apparent, nor where you'd think it might be....
"My wish is that you find the true spirit this holiday season, too, wherever you happen to read it. And so, as Tiny Tim observed, 'God bless Us, Every One!' The capital letters and the exclamation point belong to that old rascal Mr. Dickens. Feel free to edit and paraphrase to suit your own needs and beliefs. I wish you great reading in 2007."
And all these years later, I'll say it again: I wish you great reading in 2026.