Author Suzanne Shea, shortly after battling cancer, is at a loss for what to do when her friend, a proprietress of a bookstore, calls her up needing help - Shea jumps at the opportunity and begins working at the bookstore, collecting a year's worth of reminiscences in this story.
I initially was intrigued as a book-lover myself. I work at a library, and one of the high points of my day is when the holds appear. After working there for nearly two years, I'm able to guess which book is whose even before I scan it and find out definitively. Then, of course, is the joy of finding a new book someone brings to the counter, or fielding the questions, "I'm looking for a book. It has a blue cover, I think? I don't know the title. Can you find it?". And, of course, there is my own love of bookstores - mostly independently-owned used bookshops half-hidden away with reader prodigy owners who can tell you exactly what you'd like.
Unfortunately, this book wasn't really that. The bookstores Shea loves and lovingly details are the brand new, glossy kinds where, as she mentions, the furniture has a price tag and there are more candles, tarot cards, and wind chimes for sale than there are books. While I'm no bookshop snob and have been known to while away the hours at Barnes & Noble, it does put a hamper on the more esoteric stories waiting to be told; this read more like working in retail than working in a bookstore, specifically. (And if you think they're the same, allow me to assure you that they are not - no customer of Macy's comes in later because they wanted to tell you how much they loved their blouse, or spends hours sitting on the floor, staring at the latest pair of shoes).
Additionally, Shea often goes for pages on things only tangentially related. There are two pages filled with a list of all the magazines carried, with little else. There are pieces of history that, while I'm sure were interesting to somebody, bored me to tears. And Shea's own experiences book touring were interesting, they weren't why I picked up the book.
Occasionally she did have the kind of anecdotes I was expecting - a pilot who wanders in looking for a book on rekindling love, a man who forgets his dentures at the counter, but they were few and far between.
I'm glad that Shea found something at the bookstore that gave her guidance, particularly after facing cancer. I can't even imagine and I wish her the best of luck. However, I just can't say this book lived up to the title or my expectations.