Showing posts with label bookstores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bookstores. Show all posts

Thursday, June 5, 2014

An Extremely Literary Week: BEA, Housing Works, and Shakespeare

I have just had possibly the most literary week of my life (outside of majoring in English at university), and it was spectacular. Here are some of the highlights:

BookExpo America
This is the annual trade fair for publishing in the US (which also attracts a lot of foreign exhibitors). As I did last year, I borrowed a pass from one of my coworkers and attended the fair for a few hours on Thursday. I got to gawk at the exhibits, catch up with some former colleagues, and grab a pile of galleys that I'm very excited to dive into (not literally):

And parked right in the Javits Center was the Penguin truck!


The moment I spotted this reminded me of being seven years old again, watching the ice cream truck come around the corner. (Maybe I was a weird kid.)

Housing Works Book Fair
Over the weekend, I volunteered at the Housing Works Book Fair. It's a great organization -- all proceeds from the bookstore go towards combating homelessness and AIDS. They have a street fair every summer where used books and media are sold very cheaply ($1 books!), with food, live music, and other festivities. There were pavilions full of books, which I was helping stock:


And at the end of the day, there were still boxes upon boxes of books remaining, so we constructed a great wall of books along the sidewalk (from which the books were loaded onto a truck):


Shakespeare in the Park
Tonight, my friend Deb won tickets to Much Ado About Nothing, the first play of this summer's Shakespeare in the Park. I adore Shakespeare, and though I've entered the lottery for (free!) tickets many times, I've never won. I was thrilled to finally be able to partake of this New York summer tradition, and it was every bit as excellent as I expected. I'd forgotten how funny Much Ado About Nothing really is (I read it years ago), and it's so much better live than it is on the page. I can't wait for King Lear during the second half of the season!

And that was my week. I'm looking forward to more literary pursuits in the coming months!

Friday, April 11, 2014

R.I.P. Rizzoli Bookstore

As the bibliophiles and New Yorkers among my readers might have heard, the city's iconic Rizzoli Bookstore is being evicted from its iconic Midtown premises, to be replaced by a luxury high-rise. Despite petitions and protests, this historic location was denied landmark status on a pure technicality; the bookstore is housed in what used to be a piano showroom, with vaulted ceilings and massive cast-iron chandeliers that make visitors feel as though they've stepped into the pages of history. (Appropriately, Rizzoli is known for its stock of art books.) Today was the store's last day in business, and it feels a bit like the end of an era.

There's been an outpouring of grief and outrage on the internet, unsurprisingly. One of the most moving  and articulate pieces about Rizzoli is this rather personal New Yorker article by Jon Michaud:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/01/rizzoli-and-selling-books-to-madonna

It recalls an almost Gatsby-esque old New York, doesn't it? (And of course, the pictures are stunning.) I love the idea -- and it's more than a mere idea -- of a bookstore as the sort of village that raises exemplary young adults. It seems to be a recurring theme both in literature (Christopher Morley and, more recently, Robin Sloan come to mind) and in real life, and it saddens me to think that such an education might no longer be available to coming generations.

I will have more thoughts on this later, I'm sure. For now, though, allow me to wallow.

Monday, December 30, 2013

BuzzFeed: The Strand Proves That Bookstores Are Not Dead

The Strand is one of my favorite New York bookstores, so I was especially pleased to see it featured in this holiday piece:
http://www.buzzfeed.com/regajha/the-86-year-old-strand-bookstore-just-proved-that-bookstores

There's been so much media buzz about "the death of the bookstore" in the wake of e-commerce gaining marketshare, but I think there's something to be said for a well-stocked, well-curated neighborhood bookstore with a friendly and helpful staff. Also, their Twitter is fun and their rare books room is wonderful. (I'm guessing that the Christmas shoppers weren't there for the rare books room, but nonetheless...)

Just a bit of holiday cheer for bibliophiles. :-)

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Morley Walk!

This is what I did last Sunday (August 18th):
http://morleywalk.tumblr.com

Christopher Morley was a novelist, poet, and journalist -- and the founder of the eminent Sherlockian society the Baker Street Irregulars. However, he is perhaps most well-known as a tireless advocate for the book trade. One of his best-beloved novellas, The Haunted Bookshop, is set in a used-bookstore in Brooklyn, and is essentially an ode to bookselling, wrapped in a cute romance and a quaint mystery.

The Morley Walk, organized by Melville House (which publishes what is likely the most recognizable edition of The Haunted Bookshop and its prequel, Parnassus on Wheels), was splendid. It was a reading crossed with a walking tour of independent bookshops around Prospect Park. A small horde of bibliophiles descended upon the streets of Brooklyn, where we attempted not to get run over by passing cars, parents pushing baby strollers, and over-eager dogs as we migrated en masse from shop to shop, taking turns reading aloud from a copy of The Haunted Bookshop.

There were some people who thought we were a cult -- come to think of it, passersby mistaking Morley for Scripture in a mob of bookish people is actually rather fitting. I doubt I shall see most of the other participants again, but for an afternoon, we had found our tribe. And much like a novella, it was over far too soon.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

BuzzFeed: A Tale of Three Bookshops

This is what bookshops in Britain do on Twitter:
http://www.buzzfeed.com/aarong31/three-bookshops-had-a-twitter-fightand-it-ruled-dmhw

To all the bookstores in the US (but especially indies): please have an internet pissing contest. It would make my day. (@McNallyJackson, @StrandBookstore, and @StMarksBookshop, I'm looking at you!)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Stanford Daily: Ann Patchett at Stanford

Ann Patchett came to lecture on campus last week. She's one of my favorite living authors (I definitely had a geek-out moment when she was signing my books!), and she's also a wonderful speaker. Anyhow, I got to cover her lecture for my column:

http://www.stanforddaily.com/2012/02/03/book-critiqua-ann-patchett/

Not only is she a bestselling author, she's also an indie bookstore owner; the write-up in The New York Times is here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/16/us/ann-patchett-bucks-bookstore-tide-opening-her-own.html?ref=books

I especially loved her line, from her talk, about how her bookstore was "her gift to the city she loves" (Parnassus Books, in Nashville).

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Today

was wonderful. Absolutely amazing. If I could have more days like this one -- even just a few -- I would be very, very happy. This post is rather self-indulgent, methinks -- just a chronicling of today, because it's the sort of day I'd like to remember. (I'm told that many people just write about their days on their blogs, so perhaps this is something closer to normal.)

I woke up at a reasonable hour -- 11:00 -- later than I normally do, but not so late that it seems that half the day has passed me by. And without an alarm -- this is a small but significant part of a perfect day, in that it leaves no dreams unfinished, which, even if one doesn't remember the dreams upon waking, is important. Waking in the middle of a dream often gives me a slightly unsettled feeling, as though I have unfinished business with somebody in my head.

I went to Columbia to visit a dear friend from high school whom I haven't seen in much too long. I arrived a few minutes early, so I got to watch him hold office hours. Despite his sometimes cantankerous nature and rather cynical view of humanity, he's actually a very good TA. He'll be an excellent professor someday, and that makes me happy.

He bought me bubble tea; I am extremely jealous of Columbia's bubble tea. It's decent -- not amazing, but pretty good. Why does Columbia have bubble tea in its cafeteria, when Stanford, which is in California, and is probably 25% Asian, does not? It's vexing, it is.

We talked for a few hours, and migrated around the campus. It's bigger on the inside (like magical wardrobes), with a surprising amount of grass and some really fat sparrows. I finally, finally got a decent photo of my friend, who hates photographs (he claims, just to be difficult, that photography will steal his soul). Also, for those of you who know him, he still looks a something like a llama, though he's less like one in character, now. He's mellowed out in college, to some degree.

After Columbia, I had a few hours to kill before I met a friend for dinner, so I went downtown, to a lovely indie bookstore called McNally Jackson. It has a quirky little café attached, which makes these dainty Earl Grey biscuits, and this really rich, not-too-sweet hot chocolate -- probably the best hot chocolate I've had all summer (the barista was very pleased when I told him this). I found a book called Urban Code, which has a very minimalistic, elegant cover (see image), and which I ended up buying, even though I've acquired quite a few books this summer, and haven't the time to read them all. I also spotted the new Neal Stephenson book Reamde, which also has a really nice book jacket (the texture is wonderful) that's visually quite similar to Urban Code; I valiantly resisted the temptation to buy it, because it was thirty-something dollars and a rather enormous, unwieldy hardcover. I might end up getting it on Kindle, if I end up reviewing it for The Daily.

On the way to dinner, I spotted a giant colorful chandelier-like sculpture suspended over a small side-street. (It's just a block or two from McNally Jackson, but the exact location escapes me.) The road itself was cordoned off, so I could just stand in the middle of the street for a few minutes, admiring the artwork. The street itself was nothing too special -- some old buildings, a lonely-looking warehouse, a few small stores -- which made the sculpture all the more wonderful a find.


And then, at the corner of Cooper Square and Astor Place, I happened upon all these lampposts decorated in neon zip-ties! (The ones across the street were even more colorful.) Apparently, as my friend told me later, the zip-tie art had been around for quite a while, but I hadn't been to that area in quite a long time.


We went to a Japanese restaurant, where we ordered exactly the right amount of food, with room to spare for dessert (when eating out with Chinese families, the dads always tend to over-order). This was also aided by the fact that I'd forgotten about lunch -- I didn't realize this until I was recounting my day to my friend and she pointed out, "So your caloric intake thus far today consisted of bubble tea, hot chocolate, and a very small cookie?"

Anyhow, we talked, like old times, and then we got dessert at a really good patisserie called Veniero's, where I had surprisingly reasonably-priced gelato and a smidgen of her delicious strawberry shortcake. And then we took the subway back into Queens together, and it was still early enough that when I came above-ground, I walked home in the twilight, alone under a deep blue sky.