Summary

The author longs for a return to browsing and socializing in physical bookstores as a welcome change from online shopping's algorithmic predictability, eagerly anticipating a post-pandemic world where this becomes possible again.

Abstract

The author expresses a heartfelt wish to safely visit bookstores again, emphasizing the joy and discovery missing from online shopping. After a year of relying on internet retailers and brief, regulated visits to stores, the piece reflects a desire for an immersive bookstore experience filled with the sights and smells of books and the company of fellow readers. The text highlights the author's yearning for the sense of serendipitous exploration that comes with wandering among shelves of books and discovering hidden gems like an elaborate book on vampirology in an unexpected section.

Opinions

The author believes that brick-and-mortar bookstores provide a magic and sensory experience that cannot be replicated by online shopping, with elements such as the smell of ink and coffee, the sounds of other booklovers, and the escape from time itself.
There's a dissatisfaction with algorithms limiting book exploration to titles similar to previous purchases, lacking the excitement of in-store browsing that can lead to discoveries across varied genres and subjects.
Physical bookstores are described as communal spaces perfect for conversations with fellow enthusiasts and forming connections based on shared literary interests.
The author values the bookstore experience so much that they see visiting one again as a treasured reward after a period of safety protocol adherence and COVID-19 vaccine administration.
The article suggests that while online book shopping is functional, it lacks the soul-nourishing qualities and the element of surprise found in a physical bookstore.
The piece conveys a sense of nostalgia for the days when bookstores were more than just places to buy books but also social hubs where meaningful interactions and relationships could develop.

Dear 2021, Can I Go to the Bookstore?

Dreaming of bricks, mortar and so much paper

I don’t want much from 2021. A couple of doses of vaccine for myself, my family and friends, according to the appropriate prioritization. To gather in a group and hug the people I love. And to go to a bookstore.

Dreaming of bricks and mortar

Sure, I can shop at Amazon, and the book depository, and many other online sites. And yes, I have used them extensively this year. I have even, when it was possible, visited a real bookstore for a few minutes, masked, sanitized and distanced, watching everyone around me to be sure that we didn’t get too close.

That’s a drop from a canteen in the barren desert. I want to visit an oasis.

I’m bored with algorithms directing me to a book just like the last one I ordered. There’s no magic in that. I want a long, dreamy day in a huge bookstore.

Something like the Book Revue, an independent bookstore in Huntington, New York, with an enormous selection of books I’ve never heard of. I once spent all day grazing their shelves, and I can’t wait to do it again.

Call me a book nosher — I nibble from many different genres. I want to wander randomly around the shelves, pick up a book, read for a few minutes, put it down again. Ramble into another section, and pick up a completely different book there, read a couple of pages, add it to the ‘take home’ pile. Maybe chat with another book lover who is also browsing for something different. And I want to do it without regard to how long I spend in the store or how close I get to anyone else.

Feed your senses

Visiting a real bookstore is like stepping through a magic door to every world you ever imagined, and quite a few that you never dreamed of. Breathe in the smell of paper and ink and maybe some coffee or tea. Fill your ears with the gentle rustle of pages and murmur of bibliophiles. Feed your soul with that special feeling of leaving time behind.

Online, you hear the click of your keyboard, feel the bland texture of your screen, smell whatever is in the room around you. Time can pass quickly, but it’s less like suspending reality and more like throwing yourself into a series of ever-smaller rabbit holes, until you pop out, bleary-eyed and drained.

Online book shopping is functional book shopping. About as satisfying as a rice cracker with peanut butter for breakfast.

Push your boundaries

Detail from Vampirology: The True History of the Fallen Ones. Image by author

In a real bookstore, you can explore. Exploration means turning towards something new, not knowing what you will find. Online booksellers insist on pushing you down familiar paths, hoping that you will be satisfied to learn more and more about less and less.

In a real bookstore, you can jump from novels to nanoscience, from psychology to poetry. Wherever your feet and your fancy take you, new worlds are waiting to be discovered.

My favorite unexpected find was in the Art and Artists section of a used bookstore in Nevada. I rarely linger in this section; it’s just not my thing. But an oversized book caught my eye. Vampirology: The True History of the Fallen Ones.

Excuse me? What’s that?

Opening it, I found a beautifully crafted book with intricate folds and extra inserts, all about one of my favorite mystical creations. Someone lavished love and attention on this book, nurtured and brought it to life. It deserved more than a spot crammed between an old museum catalogue and a battered history of garden sculpture. It deserved a home.

I love book lovers

In a real bookstore, you find real people. People who love real books. When the Borders Bookstore opened in Philadelphia in 1990, it quickly became the place my friends and I went to find romance. With thousands of books, seats for browsing, and (gasp!) a coffee shop inside the store, this was a new way to date. You could see someone, learn about his or her interests (what sections did they gravitate towards?), have an instant topic of conversation (book opinion) and get to know one another over coffee, all without leaving the store. Way better than loud bars with inedible snacks and stale beer.

Even if you don’t find love, a book lover can always find her tribe in a bookstore.

Who do you meet while shopping for books online? No one. Just the occasional service bot. They can be helpful, but they aren’t very good conversationalists. And they’ll never buy you a cup of coffee.

How about it, 2021?

Around the world, cases are going up. Daily death rates are hitting new highs. Countries are locking down again. I support that; we need to do everything we can to stay safe until the vaccines are administered to everyone.

In this context, an all-day visit to a bookstore might sound selfish and superficial. I understand that too. I’m not asking to go to one today.

Still, like children making deals with Santa, I promise I have been and will continue to be good. I will wear my mask correctly, wash my hands, maintain distance and only go out when I must. And I hope Mother Nature can see her way clear to granting me my wish.