Before the most recent semester started (said semester is
now over, thank FSM), I called my husband on his way home from work—when
we’ve been apart all day, sometimes waiting until he gets home is just too long
of a wait—and
gave him a quick list of the day’s events.
“Cleaned out the fridge, did laundry, started two loaves of bread,
ran errands. Oh, I bought eight-hundred dollars’ worth of books at the
bookstore.”
In hindsight, it would’ve been wiser for me to haven extended that
sentence: “I bought eight-hundred dollars’ worth of textbooks at the Northern
Michigan University bookstore.” But I did not.
“You bought eight-hundred dollars’ worth of books?” Kyle asked,
his tone fearful but without an indication of shock.
“Books for school! Jeez, Kyle, do you think I would empty our
savings account at Snowbound?”
A moment of silence.
“I wouldn’t!”
When I think about it, I might have a problem. It’s nearly impossible
for me to walk through the doors of our town’s greatest locally owned
bookstore, Snowbound Books without purchasing
something, and I’m fairly certain that I’ve never left there empty handed. The
store clerks are well-versed, kind, and, after hearing a sampling of your
favorite books, very talented at matching books to your interest; is it my
fault that they are always able to help me pick out the perfect next read?
The shop itself is small; there are books in every visible
space. Something about the close quarters magnifies all of the love and
hard-work that surrounds every piece of paper in their shop. When I walk through
Snowbound, which is always cozily warm,—I theorize this is due to the great insulation
all the books along the walls provide—I always leave feeling inspired.
I have finished my first semester of nursing school, and
although I still read books during the semester, albeit at a seriously slow
pace, I don’t read nearly enough as I’d like. My stack of books to read on
break has grown tall and wide, and, in truth, there’s no way I will get to them
all in four short weeks. The bookshelves at home are overflowing with
well-loved books I have read and refuse to part with as well as new books I
plan to get to. Someday. If not during this break, perhaps I’ll come down with
some sort of disease in which I am bedridden and have nothing to do but read.
I’m not saying that I wish it would happen, I’m just saying a person’s got to
be prepared. What if we get invaded by aliens and the mail stops coming? I’m
going to need enough new books to keep me preoccupied while the world rebuilds
itself!
But, though my shelves are crammed two books deep, and
falling off with even the slightest clumsy touch, I still cannot seem to keep
myself away from Snowbound. I guess I feel like the local bookstore is the
cornerstone of a town and since I live by the adage that we all vote with our
money, I vote to keep their business around, as long as possible. My thoughts on
this “cornerstone” idea were confirmed when I read Neil Gaiman’s American Gods and one of his characters
said that a town simply isn’t a town without a bookstore. If Neil says it, it
must be true. Right?
Now, Marquette Michigan has more than one bookshop, but the others
just don’t cut it. They’re chain stores, brightly lit and cold. I fear it may
be rude of me to make that judgment, but I simply don’t get the same connection
anywhere else than I do from walking into Snowbound.
If you are looking for something to do on these chilly
winter days, or if you are anything like my husband and I and have yet to
purchase a gift for someone dear to you, stay warm and stop by the shop. There
are books to peak all interests and gift cards too. There is truly no better
gift than sharing with someone a window into another world.
Happy Holidays, my dear readers!
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