I thought there were few things as isolating as the the first days of recovery. And then I found myself living alone during a pandemic lockdown.
The anxiety, fear, and boredom of early recovery feels a lot like what we're all dealing with today.
I thought there were few things as isolating as the the first days of recovery. And then I found myself living alone during a pandemic lockdown.
The anxiety, fear, and boredom of early recovery feels a lot like what we're all dealing with today.
It's getting tough out there, or in there. While being stuck at home, it seems like we're busier than ever. Working. Baking bread. Watching all of Ozark. Zoom happy hours. Training our dogs to jump over stacked rows of toliet paper.
And then there are those of you with bored kids and cats on your hands. Kids can't go to school. Cats can't go outside. And you don't want to overload them on screen time. Plus cats don't really use phones.
These days have begun to feel elastic: even the most banal social practice upended, oceans of time in front of us that feel by and large destined to be filled by anxiety. Oh, the new normal. The importance of maintaining routine are stressed upon us, the vague semblance of normality holding us together with tape and string. I myself never thought I could abide shoes in the house but am now cheered by the simple act of lacing them each morning, even if only to tread the same exact square footage as yesterday.
If social media is right, and it always is (at least in some fashion), people are now discovering that their apartment has a kitchen. I'm seeing daily "what I cooked" posts from celebrities, I'm seeing influencers making bread for the first time in their lives and being amazed by dough. But it's not just celebrities and influencers!
The championship game of the NCAA tournament would have been played on April 6th. Alas. So Kalani put his blank March Madness bracket to use and created the Third Place Books Basketball Book Championship instead! It was a competitive group of 16 basketball books that he recently read (mostly). Here’s a recap of how the imaginary tournament all went down.
The doctor is in!
We all have that book we turn to when we need a break from the stressors of the real world. The real world is offering an abundance of stressors lately, so I thought I'd compile a list of books that offer some respite from the uncertainty, fear, and boredom we're all dealing with right now. Most likely you've read a lot of the books on this list; these are old favorites, books that radiate warmth and comfort to help us get through this pandemic together -- from a safe distance.
I have an awkward confession to make. As a bookseller, it's generally expected that I'll be on top of the new releases—that I'll know all about the new campus novel and the new World War II novel, and the new nonfiction release about how Donald Trump is either the worst president ever or the best president ever.
But new books just don't really do it for me anymore. Instead, I've been working my way through a series of out-of-print public-domain ebooks of the kind that you'd be lucky to find used. I don't know what initially drew me to this. Maybe it's my natural contrarian streak, maybe it's the thrill of making rare discoveries (a thrill that's almost entirely imaginary at this point, when almost anything can be found and acquired for free online without getting out of bed). Probably it's because I like to get stuff for free.
There are many things to love about being a bookseller, but my favorite double edged sword is that we get to read so many amazing books before they are officially released in stores. Double edged only because we read books we love and then we have to WAIT, sometimes MONTHS before we get to shove them breathlessly into your hands.
There’s been a lot of buzz around the bookstore lately because of all the wonderful advance reading copies we’re getting through, and because the suspense is killing us, this is what we can’t wait to recommend in the coming months:
Look, Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to mean anything. You get to decide whether it’s a holiday celebrating love, or a capitalist trap designed to sell cards and chocolate. Maybe it’s both, or neither. Maybe it’s just another random Friday in February.