Hi! My name is Therese. I'm creating Quimby's Books. And I do not entirely know what I'm doing.
I know SOME stuff.
I've been a NYT Bestselling author for near a decade now, so I know a little about books. I know what rules and algorithms New York publishers examine before they fund the thousands of dollars it takes to put book in our hands. It's...it's pretty intense. It's MATH. Ech. They have made a science of purchasing and designing stories YOU want, whoever you are. I respect that.
And I also know we don't need brick and mortar book shops anymore. Especially not for the spendy brand new books.
It's no one's fault. It's sorta how one day we didn't need to see live performances if we wanted to hear the latest Tin Pan Alley hits or opera...this phonograph thing came along and you could listen right at home, any time! No contest!
That was probably just an utter kick in the brass (section) to the Opera Houses and vaudeville theaters that still stand stony guard in nearly every downtown (there's one right next to my shop!)
But here's the thing.
People never stopped going to concerts because the phonograph was invented.
We never stopped loving horses once the car was invented.
We never stopped wanting to see the real Mona Lisa, or a real beach sunset, or a real doe and her fawns quiet in the forest morning, even though a million photographs with much better definition of these images were available.
And my friends...I'm staking my retirement on the fact that...I think we aren't gonna stop loving bookshops.
There has been a pivot, of course. Some people will always prefer Spotify to Madison Square Gardens, or a nice nature calendar to trekking through a misty glen. That's normal.
But for you who remain...hi! I'm one of you! Bookstores were the touchstones of my life. I felt welcome in bookstore, and full of potential in a bookstore. These greeting cards you wouldn't find at the grocery store made me want to write funny letter to friends. The feel of high grade paper made we want to tackle a hard classic that might need a dictionary accompaniment. And the smell!.....ah me.
I'm building Quimby's Books in honor of those who remain. Those who sing under their breath to their horses while they brush them down after a good ride. To those who spread a blanket in front of a local band's one hour music in the park despite the heat.
To everyone whose realized..."I can just get it at home, probably for cheaper. But...I think I may...sorta hate doing that all the time? I think I'd like to go somewhere."
That realization, when I had it, was the first birth pang of Quimby's Books. But don't birth pangs end so sweetly?
Come see me when we open in August...we'll talk about it!
