A Love Letter to Independent Bookstores

A brief interlude for real world activities

It’s a snowy day here in New England, and I’m celebrating by wrapping myself in a blanket burrito and reading on my couch with copious amounts of tea and hot chocolate. Should I be grading? Yup. Am I going to grade? Nope, absolutely not. What I am going to do is read multiple books, start a puzzle, and daydream about wandering around bookstores and touching everything.

The vibes are immaculate right now.

When I lived in Boston, I went to bookstore events all the time. I scoured the websites for Brookline Booksmith, Porter Square Books and Harvard Book Store constantly. If I had to pick a favorite, it’d be Harvard Book Store.¹ (Shh, don’t tell any of the other bookstores I frequent.) I joined Harvard Book Store’s First Edition Club and was an active member for 3 years before I realized it was a gateway drug to me buying more books. I have a lot of good HBS gear, though.

When you get a new haircut, you have to do a photoshoot with it. It’s the law. I don’t make the rules. Featuring: broken shade and Harvard Book Store swag.

When looking for yourself, it can be hard to remember that standing still is an option. While I know myself more now, my love for bookstores remains undimmed. So it is with great joy that I went to not one but two independent bookstore events this weekend. And bought no books. Truly, give me a round of applause.

On Friday night, I went to riffraff’s open mic night. riffraff is a local bookstore in Providence, and recently changed hands. They hold open mic nights monthly, and this one was cohosted with LitArtsRI, another great local literary organization.²

One of riffraff’s selling points is that it has a bar. Well, a cafe and bar. But at 7pm on a Friday night, it was mostly bar. I met up with my fellow writer friends Emily,³ Mary and Victoria, and we had mocktails and caught up and I annoyed the bartenders by asking for hot chocolate.⁴

Every 4 to 5 readers, there was a short break, and we stayed for 2 hours. We exchanged belated Christmas gifts, stories about cats, and memes. None of us intended to read. Open mic nights are best for poetry and shorter pieces and, speaking for myself, that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, I got to listen to and support other local authors.

Most importantly, though, I saw one of my former students there. My hair has become my calling card,⁵ and she spotted me across the room. We caught up, I met her friend, she told me that the piece she was reading tonight was one she started in our library class. It warmed my heart and I cheered extra loudly when she was onstage.

Then, on Saturday, I drove up to Boston (Arlington and Malden, more precisely). I had a haircut, and for whatever reason, I’ve been able to follow my hairdresser around for the past *checks notes* 10 years. She move do Rhode Island around the same time I did, and moved back to Boston recently. Her name is also Marisa, and we definitely enjoy weirding people out saying hi and bye to each other.

Post haircut, I went to Idle Hands Brewing, which was hosting a pop-up for Read My Lips. They’re a woman and disability owned bookshop that specializes in diverse and inclusive romance. I met my writing group there, and there were so. many. people. We had a rare 55 degree day on Saturday, so everyone and their brother was out enjoying the weather. Which, great for the bookstore, but not for our desire to sit and chat.

See? So many people.

I’m not sure if the book shop is doing pop-ups only, or if they’re looking for a permanent space. They’ve got more events coming up in March and April (also at other local Boston Brewers) if you’re interested and in the area.

My writing group, tiny but mighty that we are, were very overwhelmed and could not find a place to sit, so we left and went and got pizza. I did get a cool sticker, though.

When I lived in LA, the hardest part was not finding a community. I tried, oh did I try, but I never found a place that I could call my own. Independent bookstores have become that for me, wherever I go.

I know that the people in there love books, love reading, love stories. I know that I won’t be judged for what I want to read, and that I’m supporting a small, local business. As someone whose family comes from a long line of small businesses owners, this is important to me. Independent bookstores not only directly support their communities, but they also support writers. While I have no particular hate for Barnes and Noble, indie authors and publishers are going to have a much harder time being placed in those conglomerates. And if you shop and support bookstores locally, they’ll be able to continue hosting events, investing in their communities, and continue to stick it to Amazon, which is really what we all want in the end.

So no matter where I am, or where they are, I will go into small, independent bookstores, touch all the things, and maybe buy a book or two. They are my home away from home, my traveling community when I have none, the place I can always go to find rest.

More Harvard Book Store merch on the way out.

1. For those of you not from New England: Harvard University, the school, has an affiliated bookstore - which is NOT Harvard Book Store. Harvard Book Store is an independent bookstore that is magical, holds great events, and just happens to be *in* Harvard Square next to said University. Not confusing at all, 3 identically named places within .1 of a mile from each other.

2. Full disclosure: I am a member at LitArtsRI, but a real bad one, so maybe I should get on that and attend more events.

3. If you’re keeping score, we are now up to 3 separate Emily’s who have appeared in this newsletter: Emily, Emilie and Emily. They are all different people and it’s not my fault I’m friends with literally 6 Emily’s because the early 90s popped off on the name.

4. They were not annoyed. But I was being ~that~ woman by ordering hot chocolate at a full service bar and I regret nothing.

5. As we’ve established, the curls respect no god or man.