Visions of standing on the banks of the Mississippi with the water rising.

Visions of standing on the banks of the Mississippi with the water rising.

Six thousand books needed to be transported. Let’s form a line of book wrestlers from Dog Ear Books old location on Academy Street up two generous city blocks to their new location on South Main Street.

A beautiful day in the neighbor to move 6,000 books.

Who in the world came up with that idea?

Jon Tonge put out the call for just such effort and Madison showed up. Last Saturday, my children and I bundled up and headed out in the gray and cold to join the brigade.

When we arrived, the end of the line was already in the parking lot of the Cornerstone Church. By a stroke of good luck, we were directed across the street to stand inside the new space putting the used books in the back room, new books up front and the children’s books …somewhere.

A little bit after 1 p.m., the books started coming and coming…and coming. I had visions of standing on the banks of the Mississippi with the water rising or looking for buckets of water to douse a house aflame.

Pivot, grab a tower of books, pivot then pass it another who placed the book in its new home on the shelf. As volume after volume passed through my hands, the author’s names caught my eye, Grisham, Walker, Tolkein, Miss Piggy…

Have you ever attempted to write a book? I have one stalled at page 182 in first draft phase. Recently starting with another idea, I accomplished ten pages in a month. Many people have great ideas for books, and many (with the help of an excellent editor) can write. But to get idea meshed with writing ability all the way to publication, it is a monumental undertaking.

To have one’s thoughts miraculously blended with words bound into a volume that can be held and caressed. Did you ever notice that books have their own scent? The older ones smell of mildew and your grandmother’s house mixed with the some ancient monastery nestled on the hills of Turkey. There’s something sacred about them.

Intimate and quiet, reading is a solitary experience. One in which you interact with the expression of another who gave six months to 10 years of their days to see the final product come to fruition.

Writing too is a lone act — as book after book passed through my hands — that thought remained. All these books, written by all these different people, all putting thoughts down on paper in such a way that ended up bound and on a shelf. A lasting document that someone can take down, page through and escape into a world crafted by another. And on last Saturday, make a trip of two and a half city blocks placed from hand to hand.

 Reading and writing are magical voyages through time and space at the pleasure and pace of the individual. But moving a bookstore takes more than one. Moving a bookstore takes a village. A very special village.

           Jon Tonge’s post about the move….http://www.dogearbooks.com/