Category: memoir

The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap by Wendy Welch: A Review

“Third places are those needed spaces, neither home nor work, where we are known by our names and valued for being whatever we decide to be — the clown, the intellectual, the quiet person. Being part of a family is a wonderful thing, and I’m all for team-building at work, but having a place where you don’t have to be anything to anyone makes a pleasant breather.” 

Wendy Welch, The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap

Like a lot of people who love to read, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to chuck in my day job and work in a funky little bookstore somewhere. It was that kind of daydreaming that prompted me to pick up Wendy Welch’s memoir about opening Tales of Lonesome Pine Used Books in Big Stone Gap, Virginia. Wendy and her husband, Jack, might seem unlikely entrepreneurs: Jack is a Scottish folks singer, and Wendy has her Ph.D. in ethnography and neither of them is exactly, (ahem) in the spring of their youth. They made the decision to open a used book store at a time when Wendy had given up her job in what she called the “Snake Pit” (no actual snakes or pits involved) and Jack had retired. They were travelling through Big Stone Gap and fell in love with a big old house that was on the market. Over nachos and sangria at a local restaurant, they decided almost on a whim to throw all of their savings into the house, which would become both bookshop and home.

I really enjoyed Welch’s self-deprecating way of recounting their early months as booksellers. When they opened Lonesome Pine, they had no idea how to run a book store, no inventory beyond their own books and a few yard sale finds and very little money. Big Stone is a small town, and both Wendy and Jack did not realize how significant putting down roots would be in the success of their business. After some unpleasant interactions, the couple threw themselves into not only book selling, but also making their store a community space – what Welch calls a “third place” – where people could come to connect. The store hosts craft nights, music nights, semi-annual murder mysteries and a myriad of other things to make it feel like a community space. I loved reading about all the ingenuity and elbow grease it took to get the store up and running. Welch writes about her store, her community and her husband with open affection. Welch talks about how leaving a job she hated to open Lonesome Pine feels like she is, “no longer renting space inside my skin” and her writing communicates that. She is unflinching in describing the mistakes she and Jack made, their interactions with annoying customers, and unpleasantness within the town, but she is also generous in describing the bookstore’s regulars, her pleasure in talking books with others and the fun of finding a home in Big Stone. There is something very reminiscent of The Little Engine that Could in the way that the couple kept plugging away at their dream until they made it a success.

The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap is full of energy and charm. I love memoirs of everyday people because I think it shines a light on acts that we often take for granted. Welch is also a blogger and you can visit her here if you want to get a sense of what the store is all about.

That’s it for this post! Until next time, happy reading!

Tell Me More by Kelly Corrigan: A Review

“Like the padre, said, life is a mystery to be lived. Live your mystery.” – Kelly Corrigan, Tell Me More

I really liked the concept behind Tell Me More. Sitting around their dinner table one night, Corrigan’s family began debating the question: what are the hardest things we have to say to others? The conversation became the inspiration for Corrigan’s book, which includes the 12 hardest (and often most important) things to say. She gives each its own essay and weaves together experiences from her life to illustrate the moments when she realized what really needed to be said, and the moments where she was actually brave enough to make herself say them.

Some of the essays deal with very difficult experiences, like when Corrigan lost both her father and a close friend to cancer in a very short period of time. She writes about both experiences with vulnerability and grace but also with attention to the bigger lessons – how do we move on when we feel profound loss? How do with deal with regret? But the book is also very funny and relatable. The essay, “Yes” is just a list of things Corrigan will always say ‘yes’ to – everything from, “more sleep, more volume, more help” to “breath mints”. In her essay “It’s Like This”, which largely deals with her grief over the loss of her beloved father, she also writes about how she breaks up a fight between her daughters over a T-shirt managing narrowly hanging onto her cool while her husband calmly flips bacon in the kitchen. The insights into Corrigan household dynamics she includes could be any family and this is what makes her writing ring so true. While many of the topics she tackles are profound, she uses self-deprecating humor that keeps her writing from becoming sentimental or preachy. Her writing invites you in, so that you are rooting for her in her struggles to make sense of it all, to own up to her short-comings and to say the hard things. Her stories are really warm and heart-felt. She had me laughing and tearing up on the same page. As I read it I could imagine putting it in the hands of so many friends.

What are you reading this month? I’d love to hear about it.