Thirteen Things I Learned From Owning A Bookstore

Recently, my husband, Peter and I sold our beloved bookstore, The Writers’ Workshoppe and Imprint Books in Port Townsend to another couple who love books as much as we do.

Now that I’ve had time to catch my breath a bit, I’d like to share a few things I’ve learned over the last twelve years so I don’t forget and also, because maybe they’ll be helpful to someone else starting or running a business. 

ONE: Be unapologetically true to your vision.

Your vision is the secret sauce. Put it into words and hang it somewhere you’ll see all the time, because staying true to yourself isn’t for the faint-hearted. Yeah, you may need to revise it, but having a vision means you’re less likely to stress eat an entire chocolate cake for breakfast, and you’ll be more comfortable saying no, as much as you say yes, which brings me to Thing Two.  

TWO: It’s ok to say no as much as you say yes.

Running any business is an unending stream of what others think you should be doing. Unending. You should have midnight workshops! You should have a marijuana bar with nonstop open mic! You should have every single volume in all four series of Rick Riordan’s Mythical World at all times. The shoulds can take you off course faster than you can say, Wait, whatthef*ck just happened? The only way to continue enjoying yourself is to smile, consider the interesting shoulds when you have time or never, and let the rest roll over your shoulder. 

THREE: It’s all about the relationships.

Hands down, this was the best part of owning the bookstore. Everyone who walked in the door had a story, from the teen girl who built wells in Uganda every summer and kept a journal in her back pocket, to the crime scene cleaner who only reads fantasy, and the human statue who painted himself silver by day and wrote poetry by night, to the bingo manager who fought for low income housing, and the father who reads to his children every single night, and the eleven year old who organized an LGBTQ book club, to the farmer who donates half her crop to a food kitchen—everyone has a story if we take the time to listen.

These are the things that help all of us feel less alone and give our lives, soul. These are the things I’m most grateful for.

Photo by Jason Squire

FOUR: There will be assholes.

Call me naïve, but I didn’t think assholes frequented bookstores. But alas, they do. Not often, but enough to make you silent scream in the store bathroom and write obscenities on the mirror. The worst ones show up with iPhones and snap pics of ISBN numbers and actually announce they’re ordering from Amazon because your prices are too high.

They don’t give a toad’s iota about the shop local movement, the survival of neighborhood meeting places, or one conglomerate controlling all the ideas. They just want to save four f*cking dollars.

Never mind they are holding a $6.00 pumpkin nutmeg latte while they stay dry in your cozy place and finger the deckle-edged hardbacks. Anyway, I could go on, but you get the picture. Roll them over your shoulder as well, and remind yourself, tomorrow, or ten years from now, they won’t matter. 

FIVE: Play to your strengths.

It should be noted that my familiarity running a business was zilch, though I did run K-12 public school classrooms for decades, and had a short stint as a principal, so I was good with triage and communication and removing gum from weird places, but still, words are my thing, not numbers.

Peter, on the other hand, thinks numbers are as fun as writing in iambic pentameter, so he took care of paychecks and taxes and contracting with distributors and publishers. We’re still living together arm-in-arm, (which is no easy undertaking when you run a business side-by-side) and I credit the whole playing to your strengths concept as a huge reason.

SIX: Be brave and give yourself loads of permission to take risks.

Sure, taking chances can be outrageously scary and awkward and you might lose everything, but some risks bring fabulous openings and experiences you hadn’t even imagined. Opening this store was a risk. Opening this store during an economic decline an even greater one. But, if we hadn’t, we’d never have met the eighty-year old woman who signed up for the Hesitant Writer’s Workshop and three years later, published her first book to great acclaim, or the young man who said as he was leaving the bookstore, Thank you, my soul feels rested now.

Photo by Nancy Botta

SEVEN: Get super ok with failure.

Maybe even stroke and nuzzle it and take it out to dinner so you can thank it properly for giving you useful information and redirecting you towards your next sexy breakthrough. Don’t give Failure too many glasses of wine though, as it may slouch sloppily in the chair and start saying things like, dude, be as quirky as you want, but you’ll never be able to compete with the heavy discounts online, and also, newsflash: nobody reads anymore. (Not true, see my last sentence of this list). 

EIGHT: Be prepared for surprises.

There will always be surprises, big and small, because life is constantly changing, yadda, yadda, yadda. Some surprises will be laughable, like when that box of books you ordered for a book group comes in, and it’s not The Art of Racing in the Rain, it’s The Art of Racing Naked in the Rain and there’s a bunch of naked people running full frontal on the cover.

Other surprises are just unbelievably beautiful like your literary hero, Dorothy Allison, walks in and talks with you about books for an hour, and you invite her to teach a workshop, and when she does, she stays at your house and sprawls around your living room in flannel pjs and you are transfixed by how real she is, how kind, and you pretty much just happy cry the rest of the week.

NINE: Pace yourself.

You won’t be able to read all 6000 books in the store, or activate all your nifty ideas all at once, so calm the f*ck down. In the beginning, I believed I had to read all the books, and do all the things before they became irrelevant, which made me feel nightsweaty during the day, and put me on a speedy train to burnout. Once I slowed down and realized it was ok to say, I don’t know, not now, maybe later, maybe never, things unfolded naturally and began to feel more sustainable.

TEN: Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Seek out experts in areas you want to know more about. There are smart people out there who only give advice when asked, which makes them even more cool. Take classes from them. Hire them. Revise your vision. Also, get to know other fun business owners. Meet up for drinks once in a while. This group will come in handy, when you want to vent about the assholes.

ELEVEN: Stay within your budget.

This is excruciatingly hard to do if you are a book lover who owns a bookstore, BECAUSE YOU WANT ALL THE BOOKS! And there will be customers who think you should HAVE ALL THE BOOKS! and they might pressure you, but stay strong and introduce them to a book that deserves more attention than it’s getting. Spending wisely is one of the bright keys to bookstore longevity.

TWELVE: Remember you own the bookstore, it doesn’t own you.

Running a business will push you physically and emotionally to your limits. It’s like an all-day cocktail party with a few friends, lots of strangers, and hardly any alcohol. Take the time to hang out with friends, practice yoga, and see a concert, even if means once in a while you lock up the bookstore an hour early without restocking the toilet paper or responding to those last ten emails. You’ll see that you can sometimes let things go and no gerbils die.

THIRTEEN: Celebrate often!

Raise your glass to the moments that go well, to your accomplishments, your risks and failures! Dance in the bookstore at night! Stay overnight! Sleep with all the stories under your head, supporting you, cushioning you, nourishing you. Because in the end, it’s all about people and their stories—the who we were stories, the who we are stories, the who we’re becoming stories, the why we care stories. Also, there are millions and millions of people who still read, and many live right by your little book shop, and they will come—because community and good books are the most beautiful combination ever.  

[Also published at Women Writers, Women’s Books.]