Bookstores and Libraries
Now that my memoir is coming out, should I send you to your local bookstore, a public library, or an on-line bookstore not founded by Jeff Bezos?
Growing up in Spencerport, I was much more of a library person than a bookstore person. My mom became "the story hour lady" shortly after I started kindergarten, a post she held for over 60 years. In her final years, she read to the grandchildren of children she'd read to when I was small. The author of an article on the 200th Birthday of the Ogden Farmers' Library called my mom's story hour a “personal favorite.”
In the 1960s, our elementary school curriculum included visiting the school library every other week. We walked single file following our teacher to a well-stocked room in a far corner of the building. There, a librarian would crack open some new read sent by Scholastic Books. She’d tell us about it, read a few pages, and then ask, “Who’d like to read this?” Some lucky kid would get to take the book home. The rest of us were sent to the shelves to find something else. Since I liked learning about the adventures of “real, live people,” I’d wind up at the biographies shelves (in the old days, the 900 section).
By High School, I’d branched out to the Rundel Library in downtown Rochester as well as the University of Rochester. Though I wasn’t able to check out books at the UofR, it was a great place to prepare for the next Model United Nations, my favorite extracurricular activity. The library had its own special scent and I imagined myself as a serious student.
In college, I discovered eccentric bookstore collections curated by pipe-smoking middle-aged men. Georgetown had several antiquarian book dealers and a store that specialized in foreign language volumes. Venturing further afield, I found bookstores selling records, poetry chapbooks, and academic journals in fields I’d never heard of. There was also Crown Books, the Amazon of the 1970s and 1980s, selling remainders at a fraction of the original cover price.
One of my college professors suggested I visit the Library of Congress to research a paper. Although I spent a small fortune xeroxing quotes for my bibliographies, I cherished every moment reading books at the ancient wood desks with individual lights.
As graduation approached, I found the LOC’s jobs board on the floor below the main reading room. Eventually, I got hired for a series of temporary jobs.
In San Francisco, I got a job at Old Wives Tales, a small independent feminist bookstore.
I can schlep or shelve a book as well as the best of them. I loved ordering books, arranging book signings, going to conferences, and finding a new author for someone who stumbled into the store.
Now that my memoir is coming out, I'm torn: Should I direct you to your local bookstore (if there is one), the public library, or an on-line service that doesn’t begin with the name of a river?
I’ve used the Libby app for “reading” since 2017. I put reading in quotes because I’m a devoted audiobook listener. Libby is a free downloadable app that connects your computer, tablet, or phone to your library account. You can digitally download up to ten e- or audiobooks at a time, generally for two or three weeks.
Libby, like every other app, loves compiling statistics. Yesterday, I downloaded a spreadsheet of all the titles I’ve read since 2017. Here’s a screenshot from the M’s. I remember reading Madeleine Albright’s book on Fascism for a 2018 trip to Eastern Europe.
And I’ll probably check out another Nadine Gordimer book or two next week, as I’m headed to South Africa.
So, dear reader, where should you get my book?
Go, wherever you feel most yourself! All I really want is for the book to reach you. Because if my mom taught me anything by making me a reader, it's that the magic isn't in where you got the book—it's what happens when you open it.
Should you inquire at your local bookstore, they should be able to order Stumbling Blocks from their distributor now. Or you can buy it directly at these links:
In September, I’ll be recording the audiobook, which should be available by late fall.
Also a shout out to my daughter Talia on her 32nd birthday! Talia teaches middle school kids at a public school in Oakland, CA. This year she’s not teaching summer school. She’s off celebrating with colleagues and friends.
saw this just after I ordered your book from Bookshop this morning. Can't wait!
"In her final years, she read to the grandchildren of children she'd read to when I was small." This is amazing! Sixty years. What a beautiful footnote to a life.
I am *THRILLED* to hear that you, the author, will be performing this audiobook. I'm going to read it both with eyes and with ears.