Yesterday I did a book signing for Whisper My Name at Clitheroe Books, which was great not least because I could walk there! It’s a second-hand bookshop, but to say that could give a false impression.
When I was a teenager on Saturday mornings I loved to go down to the local second-hand bookshop and poke about among the musty volumes. Yes, I know some of you will be thinking, how sad is that! But you need to understand two things:
a) I wasn’t a going-out-on-a-Friday-night-and-sleeping-it-off-on-Saturday morning kind of person
b) I was a serious bookworm.
The shop was not inviting: tottering piles of dusty, decaying books; a cold draught coming from the open door; the eccentric-looking owner, wearing a knitted hat and fingerless gloves, huddled over a one-bar electric fire and a distinct smell of old dog.
I didn’t mind. I was hunting treasure and I found it. For a shilling or two (old money) I could own beautiful, leather-bound, gold edged books.
But since then, whenever I’ve been drawn to a second-hand book shop, if I look in and see it’s like that, I don’t go in. It makes me sad to see the books so neglected and I get frustrated if the books are all jumbled together.
Clitheroe Books is in a different league altogether: Jo Harding, the owner (who doesn’t wear a knitted hat!), sells only good quality books in both senses – they’re in excellent condition and worth reading. And if you want new books, Jo can order them. The shop is clean, bright and welcoming, a lovely space to spend time browsing or sitting on the comfy sofa sampling the well-organised stock.
So I enjoyed spending a couple of hours there yesterday, chatting to friends and strangers, putting the world to rights with Jo, and yes, signing books…
An added bonus –I came home with some left-over refreshments – and so had a merry evening too!
On Second-hand Bookshops
Yesterday I did a book signing for Whisper My Name at Clitheroe Books, which was great not least because I could walk there! It’s a second-hand bookshop, but to say that could give a false impression.
When I was a teenager on Saturday mornings I loved to go down to the local second-hand bookshop and poke about among the musty volumes. Yes, I know some of you will be thinking, how sad is that! But you need to understand two things:
a) I wasn’t a going-out-on-a-Friday-night-and-sleeping-it-off-on-Saturday morning kind of person
b) I was a serious bookworm.
The shop was not inviting: tottering piles of dusty, decaying books; a cold draught coming from the open door; the eccentric-looking owner, wearing a knitted hat and fingerless gloves, huddled over a one-bar electric fire and a distinct smell of old dog.
I didn’t mind. I was hunting treasure and I found it. For a shilling or two (old money) I could own beautiful, leather-bound, gold edged books.
But since then, whenever I’ve been drawn to a second-hand book shop, if I look in and see it’s like that, I don’t go in. It makes me sad to see the books so neglected and I get frustrated if the books are all jumbled together.
Clitheroe Books is in a different league altogether: Jo Harding, the owner (who doesn’t wear a knitted hat!), sells only good quality books in both senses – they’re in excellent condition and worth reading. And if you want new books, Jo can order them. The shop is clean, bright and welcoming, a lovely space to spend time browsing or sitting on the comfy sofa sampling the well-organised stock.
So I enjoyed spending a couple of hours there yesterday, chatting to friends and strangers, putting the world to rights with Jo, and yes, signing books…
An added bonus –I came home with some left-over refreshments – and so had a merry evening too!