“You’re spending money on books?”

People act like there aren’t 1 million books published every year. 

Getting into the car to leave Medford the other night, J. asked if I’d made plans with my family for the upcoming birthday dinner. Of course I hadn’t.

It’s busy in a way that leaves no room for anything else.

Angeline Boulley is so consistently good.

Since my vacation in July, I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump.

“Do you have any books on canes or walking sticks?”

Because I’m responsible for others’ experiences, I’m conscious of every sound.

I hosted a dinner in the bookstore last night. Around 10 other bookstore owners from the area attended, part of a monthly gathering that rotates around the greater Boston area.

I don’t feel overwhelmed, necessarily. All of it is achievable if I just sit down and do it. 

A woman just came in with a page cut out from the Wall Street Journal. She had saved the review of a book she now wanted to order.

A slim novel about magic and sisters and love and living between two worlds.

I seem to have read a lot of memoirs this year, more than usual. Here’s a round-up of the best of the bunch, all published in 2025.

The woman took the bag, removed the item, and unwrapped it.

I took last week off.

I like Monday mornings in the shop.

Moving books from one place to another.

Finished Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler. Wow.

I saw it happen, and that was just one average event on one average night in the life of Elin Hilderbrand.