Looking Ahead to 30! Yes, THIRTY!

Waukazoo Street, 1993

 

As my annual seasonal retirement from bookselling begins for 2022-2023, my bookstore buttoned up and closed for the winter, already I wonder what next winter will bring. I know, however, what next summer will bring: the 30^th anniversary of Dog Ears Books and my 30^th anniversary as a bookseller Up North. Incredible!

 

When my husband and I rented the little sheds on Waukazoo Street in 1993 (now long gone, along with Woody’s Settling Inn next door, also remembered fondly, for its old sign, as Hotel Bar), little did either of us imagine that I would still be selling books 30 years later. That first summer what we had for stock was the overflow of our combined personal libraries, all the books we decided we would probably never re-read. (At home, the bookshelves were still full, but we had eliminated boxes full of additional books stacked on the floor.) Our little starter bookshop experiment was so well received, however, that we attended the Interlochen Public Library book sale that summer and bought more used books for the shop. It wasn’t a yard sale. It was a business. Run by a couple with little business sense or experience but a deep love of books.

 

That was the beginning. As for the name, my husband came up with it. I had adopted a little mutt in the spring, and we were selling only used books that first year, so Dog Ears was a natural. Although if we had been able to look ahead 30 years, we might have come up with something more dignified, still – as David observed that first summer, overhearing people murmuring as they walked by -- “People love to say the name.” Dog Ears, Dog Ears, Dog Ears....

Nikki in her old age, 2007

 

I remember my delight when someone would walk through the door and ask, “Do you have a poetry section?” Yes, I do! So glad you asked!

 

Many of you who have become lasting friends I met that first year: Julia was one of several who asked for poetry. Mark bought a Simenon novel. George chose The Last Time I Saw Paris, one of my all-time favorite books.

 

Those first years were trial by fire. So much to learn! At first, it was only used books, our own, but how did one tell a first edition, what was the value of a dust jacket, and what books were worthy of shelf space, when shelf space is limited? (And shelf space is always limited!) Old books are like violins, I tell people now: age alone does not equal value. There must still exist a market for the author’s works. And then – condition, condition, condition!

 

Oh, the challenges of those early years! Not only learning the market but the daily trial, difficult for a shy, bookish introvert, of having to greet and converse with strangers! Gradually – it took me about five years – I realized that most other people feel shy, too, and that when they come into what they perceive as my space, it’s up to me to put them at ease. In that way, my bookstore helped me grow as a person.

 

A few years into the game, after sending people day after day to other bookstores when they wanted field guides I didn’t have in stock, it occurred to me to add new books to the mix. Those were the days of Partners Book Distributing, and it was always a joy to phone in an order from those friendly people. They stocked the nature field guides I initially wanted, and a treasure trove of Michigan and Great Lakes titles, fiction and nonfiction and illustrated children’s books. I was one of their happy “partners” for years and still miss them.

 

Not to get too deeply into reminiscence, however – I’ll save some of that for next year -- eventually, like other booksellers who fell into this strange, somewhat marginal career more by happenstance than by plan, as years went by I seemed to have found my niche. I also see, looking back, that my husband’s career as a working artist and my work as a bookseller dovetailed into a very rich life for the two of us, giving us opportunities to meet interesting people from all over the country, even the world, who appreciated art and books.

 

And so, now, as I keep repeating -- more out of astonishment than boastfulness, believe me! -- next July will mark 30 years of that little bookshop born one summer in a modest shed. It took a village but more than a village. It took a willing daily partner (“a donkey for literature,” he used to call himself, carrying boxes of books for me -- while I called myself a "handmaid to the arts" as I helped shlep large paintings), a long list of marvelous Michigan authors, and the material support of local and visiting customers, year after year, buying both new and used books in my shop. My heartfelt thanks to you all for helping keep this dream alive!

 

I’m already thinking about how to celebrate the 30-year mark of Dog Ears Books, and I have a couple of ideas, but if my customers have suggestions for me, too, I will be happy to hear them. Please share! And again, thank you!

Book pup Sarah, 2008