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Part 1 of 3: The invisible labor, the lingering, and the curation that makes great bookshops possible I set out to visit 40 independent bookshops before my 40th birthday. In the end, I visited 54 across two continents, four countries, and 18 cities. Along the way, I learned that great bookshops are not defined by square footage, bestseller tables, or even coffee quality (though they all help create a great experience!). They are shaped by curation, community, and an enormous amount of invisible labor that most customers never see. This is what a year inside indie bookshops taught me. How it startedWhen I turned 39, my book-loving friend Jen floated a glorious idea: visit 40 independent bookshops before my 40th birthday. What may have started as a casual suggestion took root almost immediately. As an avid reader and longtime indie bookshop admirer, I booked a birthday weekend in Washington, D.C. and set out on what would become a year-long grand tour of independently owned bookstores. Over the next twelve months, I planned every work trip and personal journey with bookshops in mind. I slipped out of a 14-hour conference day to visit Madison Street Books in Chicago. I added extra days to city trips in Germany to explore unabhängige Buchhandlungen. At a conference in Augusta, Georgia, I recruited an entire posse of book lovers to visit the city's only independent bookstore with me. Between five of us, we purchased 21 books plus tote bags, candles, and other literary accouterments. I like to think we made their day. Friends joined me for some visits. By month six, even my then seven-year-old could explain the mission I was on. She had heard me introduce myself to booksellers enough times to understand that this was not simply shopping. It was something closer to a pilgrimage. At every stop, I made myself do three things: talk with the booksellers, buy at least one book, and write about the visit on my blog. I met wonderful booksellers and not-so-wonderful ones. At some shops, I walked out empty-handed (oh hi, Philadelphia!). At others, I could have used a handcart to move my growing towers of new titles to the car. During my Hamburg visit, things got so out of hand that I shipped eight hardcovers home because I was heading to Copenhagen (to visit more bookshops) next and my backpack was already bursting at the seams. I regret nothing. I studied the shops' interiors, their curation, their events and their atmosphere, trying to discern what made a great bookshop that I wanted to move into and never leave. I may have suggested this move to Elif at Minoa Berlin. She thought I was joking. I wasn't. In the end, I visited 54 independently owned bookstores across the United States, Paris, Copenhagen, Berlin, and Hamburg. I brought home 81 new titles and a deeper appreciation for the invisible labor and intentional care that make these places possible. Is it retail, or is it a place to linger?Some bookshops are exactly what they claim to be: places to buy books. Getting this part right alone is harder than I understood when I first set out. When I began #40BookshopsUnder40, I pictured booksellers sitting behind the counter reading, occasionally looking up to take payment. Once I started helping out my local bookshop, Staunton Books & Tea, I realized that running a bookshop is SO. MUCH. MORE. Running a bookstore is an intricate choreography of ordering, receiving, shelving, displaying, recommending, event planning, troubleshooting, and constant recalibration. As a customer, all you see is shelves and hopefully great titles. What goes on behind the scenes is the invisible labor of any good bookseller: guiding readers through shelves and spines to the book they didn’t know they were looking for. Let’s just agree that this magic alone is a feat of excellence and not to be taken for granted. But I visited bookshops that took the experience further. They didn’t just sell books; they invited visitors to linger, to explore, to spend time among bookshelves and choose with care: At Minoa in Berlin, beautifully designed shelves and a small café create the perfect environment to settle in with a cappuccino. During my visit, I struck up a conversation with a complete stranger, which is unheard of in German culture and a testament to Minoa’s special atmosphere. Kapitel 3 in Hamburg offers pastries, sofas, and the quiet hum of laptops tapping against a backdrop of bookshelves. I browsed and chatted with one of the owners for over an hour while my daughter happily chewed on croissants. The self-control I displayed by buying only three hardcover books deserves a mention here. And what’s more, one of the readers there turned out to be author Saša Stanišić, working on his latest novel, another testament to a bona fide literary mecca. At the other end of the cozy spectrum is Politiken Boghallen in Copenhagen. It feels almost cinematic in scale. I forgot I was in an independent bookshop, not the Danish version of Barnes & Noble. Their lower floor, dedicated entirely to English-language titles, is filled with reading nooks that invite discovery. We piled books around us and happily lost hours there. These spaces reminded me that a great bookshop is more than retail. Curation is keyTo me, great curation is when you walk in with a specific title in mind and leave with three books you had never heard of but suddenly cannot live without. That moment of stumbling upon something unexpected is rarely accidental, even though it might feel that way to the reader. Now that I’ve looked behind the scenes of over 50 bookshops and talked to just as many booksellers, I understand and appreciate the deep knowledge booksellers carry: readers, trends, community interests, literary ecosystems. Whenever I visit Fountain Books in Richmond, I trust the shop’s instinct more than my own reading list. Their displays introduce me to authors and small presses I might otherwise miss. Conversations with booksellers there often send me home with titles I did not know I needed. Madison Street Books in Chicago impressed me with its sustained spotlight on independent publishers. Their “Not Your Big 5” book club and dedicated shelving create visibility for underdog titles in an increasingly crowded market. Once again, I walked out with titles I hadn’t heard of but would not want to miss on my shelf. At Old Town Books in Alexandria, the browsing flow feels almost like being pulled along by an invisible current. New arrivals lead you toward bestsellers, then toward books you cannot believe you do not already own. In the children’s section next door, reading nooks tucked into the walls and a giant tree for young readers transform shopping into exploration. Great curation feels like magic. In reality, it is discipline, taste, and constant attention. Community careSome bookshops are more than a retail space or café. They are community spaces that invite discourse and debate, take a stand for what they believe in, and serve the occasional meal for free to neighbors in need. I encountered all three types and remain in awe of both their courage and their business models. I visited The Potter’s House in Washington, D.C. on my 39th birthday. It’s a bookstore café that can pride itself on great food (we had brunch there to fortify ourselves for our first bookshop crawl), a delightful children’s section, and its role as an anchor in the community. With a focus on organizing and social justice, they host author talks and events and invite customers to pay-what-you-can, helping provide meals to their neighbors in need. While most of my Philadelphia bookshop crawl was a slight disappointment, Harriett’s stood out as a beacon. Owner and operator Jeannine Cook, an author herself, organizes so much beyond the bookshop that you can easily forget you’re there to buy books. I hung on every word as she told me about their Deeply Rooted Trolley tours, ever-changing exhibitions, and community partnerships. Yes, she sells books, but the store, named in honor of Harriet Tubman, is so much more than a retail space. It’s community care in practice. The event series and community conversations I help host at Staunton Books & Tea serve a similar purpose. Owner Julia Sabin and I enjoy convening our local community around international literature (we host an international book club every other month), current events, and literary themes we’re intrigued by. In 2026, we launched the Staunton Reading Society to create more space for readers to come together and share their love of reading. These visits showed me that bookshops often function as civic infrastructure. They host conversations, nurture relationships, and sometimes feed their neighbors. Next in this series: My subjective favorites from 54 visits, including the best niche bookshops, best children’s corners, and five unexpected bookshop ideas I instantly fell in love with.
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