. . . than a quote about my favorite animal by my favorite author. This is Tippi, my 13yo dilute calico.
I love the way this writer describes the feeling of going over a bridge: (brief article & slideshow) Best Bridges in the World
Bridges mean exploring. They mean connecting. They represent not letting barriers keep us from seeing new places and meeting new people.
(Windows have a similar feel to me, albeit in a less active way. Looking at what’s going on “out there.” Or looking at what’s going on “in there.” Windows keep us from feeling isolated.)
I grew up in Michigan and remember the thrill of crossing the Mackinac Bridge, looking out the backseat car window (see above) at the shimmering water all around and at the suspension cables and realizing just how vast the lakes are and how much bigger the bridge is than you thought it would be.
Now, I live near Chicago, a city of drawbridges that keep things moving across and along the river downtown. Beauty and function and connecting us all.
What’s not to like about a bridge?
The Pickwicks’ Picnic won’t be on the shelves at Barnes and Noble. It’s available via their online store, and it’s available from other online retailers and many, many independent bookstores. Perhaps I should be worried that B & N chose not to stock my book–but I’m not (much).
There used to be a very nice B & N around the corner from me, but it didn’t survive the last round of closures. So it’s not like I will be going over to my neighborhood B & N store to look wistfully at the space on the shelves where The Pickwicks’ Picnic should be. I haven’t been inside a B & N in over a year.
I don’t miss it, is the weird thing. And I doubt that my neighbors do either. There are a score of top-notch independent bookstores near me–none that I can walk to from my house, mind you, but still easy to drive to. And there’s always the option of buying online. My book is easy to find there. Have a look at one option.
This article from the New Yorker by a guy with the cool name of David Sax, written about a year ago, reveals a lot about why I’m not really missing seeing my book at a B & N store. Some highlights:
. . . sales [at Barnes and Noble] were actually growing in many categories, including board games, vinyl records, and even some categories of books, the non-digital kind (like coloring books for grownups)
My book doesn’t fit any of these categories. For one thing, it is a book. B & N sells lots of things that aren’t books. Which is fine. I sometimes like things that aren’t books.
After two decades in which the number of independent booksellers decreased by half, those bookstores are now coming back. The American Booksellers Association noted a consistent increase in new store openings over the past seven years . . .
See? There are plenty of places to find The Pickwicks Picnic besides that big chain store. Even in places where the local B & N is the only bookstore, you can still ask them to stock it (please do!), you can order it, or you can buy it from them online. You can buy it from Powells, iTunes, and so many other places, even online via Target and Walmart.
[Independent bookstores] stock the books that the community wants, and, while their selections are minuscule compared with Barnes & Noble, the staff can speak to the books on those shelves with authority.
No staff member at a B & N I’ve ever been to could hand-sell a beloved book to a reader, or even direct a customer to a specific book off the tops of their heads. Without the computer to search their stock (which I can do myself quite easily, thanks) they didn’t have much to offer in the way of knowledge and rarely showed the enthusiasm you’ll see at an independent store.
Naturally, I’d be very happy if The Pickwicks’ Picnic were available on the shelves at Barnes and Noble for your purchasing convenience, but I’m not going to fret that it’s not. I think it will find its audience.