A Message from Mitchell
In this upside-down year, with so much uncertainty, suffering, division and struggle, I find myself more and more thankful for the choice I made over forty years ago to take the road a bit less traveled, the road that brought me to Books & Books and independent bookselling and to all of you. I can’t imagine anything more sustaining, a life that would be more fulfilling. I am thankful for you and the sense of community that comes with your friendship and support.
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Throughout the turbulence of 2020, the power of books, the potency of story, and the importance of our mission to bring them both to you, even in the most trying of circumstances, has been reaffirmed over and over. As we look toward the end of this dreadful year, I wish everyone brightness and hope.
So, where are we now? Our doors remain open. Our online store never closes. Virtual events are scheduled far into the future. We’re confident we’ll make it through to the other side. Confident because you’ve supported us this far, and as we move into the busiest time of the year, it’s my hope that you will continue that support, that you will vote for small, local businesses of all kinds by making your holiday purchases at stores like Books & Books.
I’m so thankful for my Books & Books family. Our staff is remarkable. They have been on the frontline making sure that we can serve you in the safest of ways. They stock and clean the stores, they fulfill, pack and ship your orders, they cook and serve your meals, they run books out to the curb for you, they give you recommendations, they communicate with you through social media, they schedule and produce our online events and create and send our online newsletters. Their passion runs deep and their resilience is inspiring.
We will all need that same resilience as we navigate our way to the other side. I'm hoping that you will find some comfort as I have, in a poem by the wonderful Mary Oliver:
I Worried
I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.
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