I sure do love stories about bookstores. Whenever I see one, I grab it fast before it evaporates. Somehow, I think bookstores are magical, even that sterile citadel Barnes & Nobel. I understand the economics of the bookselling business, and while I am all in favor of supporting the little shop, the fact is that most of us shop for price. Only the specialist bookshop can remain healthy and even those need a strong web presence to survive.
A redundant (read downsized) web design geek who needs a job finds an unlikely position on the night shift at Mr Penumbra’s 24 Hour Bookstore. And that is the last normal thing you will learn about the bookstore, the other employees and the owner from me. Or from anyone, actually.
This place is everything a bookstore should be — and more. We have ancient tomes, high tech, eccentric characters, and slightly bizarre goings on. Oh, and to get a job there, you have to be able to climb those tall rolling ladders you see in old libraries. And not get vertigo.
OK, I am not going to tell you any more. Except about the romance. Or the odd cult. OK. OK. No more. Nothing. Nada. Except the secret society. OK, that is absolutely it. You get nothing else out of me. Go read it yourself.
It’s Dan Brown meets Parnassus on Wheels. There. Is that enough for you?