- Published: 30 October 2019 30 October 2019
The year that I left for college, a bookstore opened in my hometown of Winchester, TN. The two owners were my best friend’s mom, Debbie Petrochko, and my elementary school librarian, Suzy Smith. It was called Expressions, A Bookstore/Art Gallery. It was a tiny space, but the books were carefully chosen, and the women were dedicated to providing a space in our small town for literature, so we didn’t have to drive to Nashville for a book. That summer when I stopped by the store, Mrs. Smith, who had heard that I wanted to be a writer, told me about the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, which I knew nothing about. By the time I graduated from college, I was on staff at the conference, where I met my wife, where I would get a job at the university teaching fiction. That bookstore closed a few years after that summer.
"What I mean is that bookstores have changed my life, have made me love books even more because of the community that these places provide. And when they close, that absence changes a town, the loss of all those transformational moments."
When I was a freshman at Vanderbilt University, I discovered Davis-Kidd Booksellers. I saw a notice in the paper that a debut author, Frederick Reiken, would be reading, and I decided to go, had never gone to a bookstore reading. By the time I’d graduated, I’d gone to more than a dozen readings, spent so much money on books that I read more closely than the books I had to read for my classes. I bought Ann Patchett’s The Magician’s Assistant, David Sedaris’s Me Talk Pretty One Day, Victor LaValle’s Slapboxing with Jesus. I saw my professor Cecilia Tichi, read from her mystery novel while Paul Burch and the WPA Ballclub accompanied her. Davis-Kidd moved to a new location, a much larger space, and I read there when my first book of stories came out. That bookstore closed a year later.
What I mean is that bookstores have changed my life, have made me love books even more because of the community that these places provide. And when they close, that absence changes a town, the loss of all those transformational moments.
I now live in a town without an independent bookstore, and I miss the ability to simply stop by after work, to attend a reading whenever I want to. I know how integral independent bookstores are to the local community, but I now realize how important these bookstores are even for customers who don’t live there. Whenever we go to a new city, we always take the kids to the local bookstore to stock up, to see the unique qualities of that store and how it feels so connected to the city itself. On weekends in Chattanooga, an hour away, we have lunch at Good Dog and then walk to Star Line Books. When we’re in Nashville, we go to Parnassus, take in how the store has changed since we were last there. It’s always so amazing when we walk into a store for the first time, to see that it’s thriving, filled with people. And I always hope that the town will keep it that way, so that when we come back, we can feel that same thrill, even if it isn’t entirely ours, of having a place to come to when we need something to read.
Kevin Wilson is the author of the novels The Family Fang, a New York Times bestseller adapted into an acclaimed film starring Nicole Kidman, and Perfect Little World, as well as the story collections Tunneling to the Center of the Earth, winner of the Shirley Jackson Award, and Baby, You’re Gonna Be Mine. His third novel Nothing to See Here has just been published by Ecco. He lives in Sewanee, Tennessee, with his wife and two sons.