The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap Read Online Free Page B

(find cash register)
    Establish how to run a trade credit system
    Publicity
    Cat, optional (check and mate) 1
    Five years later, I found this list in a drawer and laughed. Besides revealing my housekeeping limitations, it seemed surprisingly comprehensive for someone making it up as she went along. Adding a degree in family therapy, plus lifetime supplies of hand sanitizer, patience, Goo Gone, pencils, packing tape, and humor—not necessarily in that order—would have been wise. Other than that, the envelope pretty much covered it. That’s how you run a used book store. (Dogs may be substituted for cats if well behaved.)
    The day I made the list, Jack poured himself a Scotch and we took the easiest item first. Our shop sat across the street from the amphitheater where the outdoor drama of Fox’s novel ran, so our name needed to celebrate his The Trail of the Lonesome Pine legacy.
    After less thought and more alcohol than should have been put into it, we came up with Tales of the Lonesome Pine Used Books, Music and Internet Café, which seemed to cover everything—although we later learned it wouldn’t fit in the phone book advertisement. As we met other business owners, it became evident that the Lonesome Pine moniker could get even better exposure. With a bottle of wine one night, we had a good time renaming several businesses around town. For some reason, friends who helped create the list wish to remain anonymous, but Ms. Polly the drama director loved it:
The liquor store
Ales of the Lonesome Pine
The local gym
Whales of the Lonesome Pine
The car dealership
Deals of the Lonesome Pine
The post office–cum–federal courthouse
Mails and Jails of the Lonesome Pine
The pharmacy
Ails of the Lonesome Pine
The farmers’ market
Kales of the Lonesome Pine
The school museum
Fails of the Lonesome Pine
And the pet grooming service that actually did use the idea
Tails of the Lonesome Pine
    In a small town, we make our own fun. Beats people making fun of us.
    Okay, back to that envelope checklist. What next? Well, maybe getting in some books so we could sell them?
    Jack wanted something else first. “A mission statement.”
    “A what? Are we on a mission here, babe?”
    “I come from a business college background, and I need a mission statement,” he insisted, stroking his white goatee. (He does that beard thing when he wants to look wise.) So Jack drafted a mission statement and we hung it on the wall:
    Tales of the Lonesome Pine Used Books, Music and Internet Café Mission Statement
    1. We believe in providing quality books, music, crafts, and service at a fair price.
    2. We believe in making a fair profit.
    3. We believe in shop hours that balance the wishes of our customers with our need for a life.
    4. We believe in assisting and advising customers to the best of our ability; we believe everyone is fallible.
    5. We believe in being responsible members of our community.
    6. We believe that a used book store is neither a new book store nor a garage sale; that it is a hard way to make a living; that it is a kind of sacred trust; and that it should be friendly and fun for customers and us.
    The mission statement provides balance on days when we can’t remember why we thought owning a business/living in a small town/being married to each other would be fun. Usually we don’t have trouble recalling any of that, but in those early days of naïveté and enthusiasm, plenty of marriage-and-resolve-testing times lay ahead.

 
    C HAPTER 3
    Mommy, Where Do Books Come From?
    Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.

    —Dr. Seuss (aka Theodore Geisel) as quoted in Looking Tall by Standing Next to Short People & Other Techniques for Managing a Law Firm by H. Edward Wesemann
    W E BOUGHT THE HOUSE IN July and planned to open shop in October; a quick turn-around meant the place could start paying us back for its purchase. Since we didn’t have any investment capital, without remorse or pity we culled our