So you can see what I see

A friend started a thread on a message board we're both on, asking what our dream jobs were. This was my response.

It's that bookstore where you go and browse and find the book you came in looking for, plus books you didn't know you wanted to read. And the person behind the counter knows who you are and what you like, and you shoot the shit with them for a few minutes before you go. You recommend books to them, they tell you about the new This or That Author coming in the fall, and you know there'll be a copy waiting for you when it comes out.

Coffee? Sure, but not anything pretentious. None of this Grande/Venti half-caff mochaccino shit. Coffee. Pure and simple and good. You wanna fancy it up? You're in the wrong place. We sell books here, not java.

Decent-sized floor space or even an attached building/room for events. Local musicians, poetry slams, book groups (for good books, obviously). Author signings - local authors and some of the big guns. I'm not talking Grisham or Patterson. They don't quite follow the store name, do they? I mean Christopher Moore, George RR Martin. And hey, dream store, yeah? Neil Gaiman, Stephen King.

We don't sell Cliff's Notes. Nor do we sell candles, or any distracting sidelines that aren't book related. You want Beanie Babies and kitsch? Go to the Hallmark store.

But, before you go, have you read Inkheart?

I know it's a thankless job. I know in reality, it's really fucking hard to get an indie off the ground and keep it in the black. You work long hours - sometimes ten, twelve, sixteen - for not a lot of pay. You argue with publishers, customers, authors, other bookstores. B&N wants to build across the street and steal your business. The bestsellers are 30% off at Wal-Mart, and Amazon's offering free shipping. All the authors get sent to the Borders two towns over and hey, why does Books-a-Million have the new mass markets a week before I do?

I know all that. I know it.

I still want it.

Words, words, words...

I'm not big on how-to books. Not so much a fan of self-help tomes that all say the same things only with different names in their example stories. I don't even remember the last time I read an advice column looking for anything beyond a giggle. I've read forums for people looking to save money, or lose weight, or achieve any of hundreds of goals, and seen the same posts reworded weekly as newbies ask old, old questions.

Suppose you can't really be exposed to all of that without taking something away from it, though. One thing I actually found useful was this (reworded, of course, by me):

If you're trying to accomplish something, don't keep it a secret.

It's so very, very easy not to tell people you (for example) want to lose twenty pounds by the holidays. If you do it, great! Your friends will notice, and compliment you. But if you don't, the only person you disappoint is yourself. Makes it awfully easy to pretend you didn't really fail. "Oh, well, twenty pounds by January, then." "Valentine's Day." "Easter." "I have plenty of time." Until you're back around to the holidays again.

But if you tell people, if you stop letting it only echo through your head, and start actually saying it out loud and in the presence of others, well. Now you have a goal, and something they're going to ask you about. How's the job search? How's the diet?

How's the bookstore?

It's never been a secret, this aspiration of mine. My friends know. My family knows. Hell, my boss brings it up now and again. But it's always been such a nebulous thing: someday, I will open a bookstore, and I'll call it Books That Don't Suck, and it will be good. It's the "someday" that sets it up to fail. That sets me up to fail.

So, what good does blogging about it do? It puts the idea out there even further, I suppose. Announces it to even more people, should anyone stumble across this little corner of the internet, and like it enough to peek back every now and then. It will make me think about it every day, reminding me that, well, the idea's not going away - what have I done today to make this dream a reality?

And, since part of the reason I want to have my own bookstore so badly is because I miss working in one, some of my rants might actually come in handy for the Books That Don't Suck employee handbook. (Chapter 1: Ten things that will make the boss grit her teeth.)

So. I want to open a bookstore. It will probably not really be called Books That Don't Suck, as most communities would frown on that, but it might be something like "Books That Don't Suck LLC, d/b/a "[Insert Clever Bookstore Name Here]." Oh, and since "someday" is weaselly, let's say...

Books That Don't Suck. Grand Opening January 2, 2012. Guest list sign-ups for the opening bash start...

...now.