Sometimes it just takes a few nice customers to restore ones faith in ones stock. This time of year as my income fades to a trickle and people waste time in their gardens (tut tut) when they could be reading, I always start to get a bit paranoid. But one man yesterday remarked that this shop reminded him what bookshops should be like and so rarely are nowadays. He was comparing it to the chains selling new books where there is never a surprise because the unsold books still on the shelves after a month or so are whipped away to be sold as remainders or pulped. My daughter worked in Waterstones. I must remember to ask her how long they get to shelf-sit before they are culled. I can remember the time when browsing a 'new' bookstore was as exciting as any secondhand shop because books stayed around. There were always a few that were of august age and a bit curly, thumbed and probably even read by the shelf lurker.
The man who just left told me quite seriously that his dream is to run a bookshop, and how lucky I am. It's good to be reminded from time to time.
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