Introduction

I learned to crawl on the floor of a bookstore. My parents are literature fanatics, and from my infanthood onward they brought me from one used bookstore to another, often setting my brother and me down so they could frolic in another aisle. When they picked us up again, our little knees were ringed with gray dust. I don’t remember this myself, of course, but I’d like to think my fascination with books started there, on a bookshop floor. I’m writing this blog for people who see an independent bookstore not as a cheap place to buy textbooks or a cultural hangout for the hipster hierarchy, but as a haven for those who read.