A Thousand

He looks at a book in the Thriller Section.  I didn’t think anyone started in the Thriller Section.  Most people that walk into the bookstore look first at the new ones, on the shelves by the entrance.  They are novels by authors who seem to do nothing but write, who grind out an action or raunchy romance once a month.  They are acclaimed bestsellers, the ones that we bookies talk about, that our customers buy enthusiastically but then put in their to-read piles, at the bottom.  They are biographies and autobiographies, which everyone likes to flip through for glossy photographs in the middle, but scoffs at the idea of reading them.  Those new books are rarely good.

The man seems to know what he wants, and that is, he does not want the new books or the references or the classics.  I am unsure if he knows what he wants.  He is a character, certainly, but not a student who rushes in desperately searching for a legitimate-sounding text, that he scans a few pages of, feels it is okay to cite, because his professor assigned five citations minimal, and he has merely four.  I always wonder why they don’t ask me, first.  It would be so much quicker for them.

The man, he is still in the Thriller Section towards the end opposite his starting end.  Sometimes he pauses, abrupt, kneels down to remove a book from the shelf.  No consistency makes itself apparent to me: here a famed trilogy, there a thin raggedy dust bunny, here a big author’s flop.  Ones he selects tighten up for inspection passing through his hands.  He places bedded tips of his fingers on a particular book, stops to gaze in its direction, and then stumbles on down the line with each finger brushing words in a dazzling crescendo.  A pianist oft applies more pressure as he drags his fingers from one end of the keyboard to the other, but afterwards the fingers burn with melody.  The man in the bookstore feels only bindings.

‘Bookies’ is an interesting term for us bookstore workers.  When I first volunteered at the store, stacking anthologies worn beyond retail, the confirmation came when a voice from behind called out to me.  The voice said not ‘volunteer,’ but ‘Bookie.’  I have never known another place to use the term, but when I wheeled about to face its owner, I knew the store was just as much mine.  Then I lost the doubts, the insecurity of the implications of working at a tattered, funky second-hand anything.  Now I sell books behind a counter.

He leaves Thrillers, all of them.  It was my idea, to name that Section.  It was previously Horror slash Sci-Fi.  First problem: these two genres are wholly separate.  Second problem: Horror begs nightmares and Sci-Fi, robots.  Thriller begs stained tablecloths, begs un-sturdy windows, begs sweet deception.

The man finds a book in Companionship.  He searches, tears out a page, stuffs it into his Breast Pocket, nods and walks out the door, just as he does every week.

Author's Note

Written the week of 17 June through 24 June

Reviews

[Rose Kavanagh]

This is a very interesting story.

I adore anything to do with books or bookstores, so the setting felt very comfortable to me and it was extremely well-written. Usually, I don't care for first person narrative, since people have a tendency to let their writing become somewhat indulgent when they use it, but you made it appear just as grounded and mature as third person, while still giving insight into the narrator's thoughts, which is very difficult to do.

Overall, I thought it was great. The only thing I would change would be to this line: "Thriller begs stained tablecloths, begs un-sturdy windows, begs sweet deception." The use of so many "begs" make the sentence a bit choppy in my opinion, so I would write it as "Thriller begs stained tablecloths, un-sturdy windows, and sweet deception." But perhaps that's just my own personal preference.

I enjoyed the story very much, though, well done :)

[Different Wings]

Wow, thanks so much! I just reread the story and I agree with you. In fact, there are a few things I'd like to change.
But I really do appreciate what you say about the first person/third person linewalking, because I agree with you, and I tried to strike a good balance while writing between descriptive action and personal thought.
I'll ask you the same thing I asked Amaya: should I extend the whole piece?
Thanks again :)

[Amaya Sullivan]

I really love the perspective of how this story is told. There aren't too many second hand books stories around where I live. The term "Bookie" is never given here in the south (not that I know of).

I really enjoyed this story and it flowed very well. Great job!

[Different Wings]

Glad you liked it!
Actually, I wrote this piece as an assignment which involved a maximum word count. As you are probably used to as well, maximum word counts are tough. Do you think it's worth revising the piece without a maximum in mind, so I can embellish in the places I originally intended to, or is it fine the way it is?
Thanks so much :)

[Amaya Sullivan]

There are places where you could expound the mans appearance, why the "bookie" works there, and maybe the second hand bookstore traffic, but personallyI wouldn't. I would have to say the story is nice and sweet the way it is.

I would make a separate version and post of your original intent in this story. One thing I love about this site, when you revise your main story it saves your version as long as you check "Revise Version" You can compare your writing and keep track of how your writing has improved.

[Different Wings]

I love that feature as well! So much of my writing I want to track that changes of, and it's helpful to be able to do that.
Okay, thanks for the advice. I'll come back to this story with those ideas in mind- I don't want to go overboard, but I like the idea of adding some description. I like the traffic idea. Thanks a bunch.

[Amaya Sullivan]

Anytime! Keep writing!