Page 7 of Battle of the Bookstores

And with that, I switch gears and do what I do best: match readers with stories to help them realize they deserve the kind of love people write books about.

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Seven hours later,I’m headed home, having finally finished my closing duties, including vacuuming up all the crumbs the teenagers left after camping out all afternoon in “their” reading nook.

Not that I minded. The busywork kept me from ruminating over worst-case scenarios.

Instinctively, I slow down outside Josie’s store. I can see her through the window, her hair still in that severe bun, head bent over a book. I’m tempted to go inside and ask what she’s reading, but I’m probably the last person she wants to talk to.

It’s just…she looks so lonely in there.

Or maybe that’s because the store is so sterile and organized it feels more like a museum than a bookstore. I shiver at the thought of her taking over Happy Endings and destroying the inclusive, beautiful selection of novels I’ve worked so hard to curate.

Across the street, a group of drunk college students pile out of an Uber, making enough noise to wake the dead. And attract Josie’s attention.

I look away a beat too late, and as I hurry toward the Davis Square T stop, I try not to think about her sad, beautiful green eyes.

It doesn’t work. I’m still thinking about them when I get home to my studio apartment in Charlestown. I pour a big glass of wine and break into the “better than sex” cookies a customer brought me today.

Desperate for a distraction, I grab my laptop and open BookFriends, the review site for booksellers and librarians. At first, I didn’t understand the strict anonymity rules, but after a popular YA author made homophobic jokes at one of my events, I realized how grateful I was for a place where I could share a warning without fear of blowback.

But my favorite thing about BookFriends is the reviews people share. It reaffirms the saying that there’s a lid for every pot. What one person thinks is pure drivel is another’s literary masterpiece.

There’s one woman whose reviews I always look forward to. BookshopGirl reads big books like the ones Josie sells. But BSG (as I think of her) isn’t a snob. Her reviews are thoughtful and inquisitive; I can tell she puts a lot of time into them.

A couple months ago, we had a lively discussion on a thread about Lily King’sWriters & Lovers—one of the few books we’ve both read. The question at hand: Can a book be both literary and a romance novel? My answer was one hundred percent unequivocally yes, and after much cajoling, I got her to agree.

Someone commented and told us to “get a room”—so wedid. BSG started a private message chain, and we’ve been chatting regularly since. In the spirit of the site, we haven’t shared our names, locations, or any other personal information. Although it doesn’t get more personal than sharing the books you love.

I’m relieved to see a green dot by her name; she’s online. I pull up our chat and pick up where our last conversation left off:What page are you on now?

BookshopGirl:376.

RJ.Reads:So you’re what? Halfway done?

BookshopGirl:More like two-thirds. I’ve got about 150 left.

I shake my head. A few romance novels have left me wanting more, but not three hundred pages more.

Good book?I ask, feeling the tension in my shoulders finally start to dissipate.

BookshopGirl:Technically speaking, yes. The prose is beautiful and the characters are well developed.

RJ.Reads:And not technically speaking?

BookshopGirl:The author is a bit pretentious—but I know that frompersonal experience, so I’m trying to keep an open mind about the book.

RJ.Reads:How diplomatic of you.

BookshopGirl:I try. How about you? What page are you on?

RJ.Reads:Page zero. Finished an ARC on the way home and haven’t picked my next book yet. Got a suggestion for me?

BookshopGirl:Hmmm.

As I watch the three dots appear and disappear, I smile at the prospect of reading a book of BSG’s choice. Based on the books on her Favorites shelf, it might take me the whole summer to read whatever she picks, but I can always get an audio copy. Or I can do what I did during my remedial English classes in high school—google reviews and cobble together enough information to make it sound like I read the book.

Not my proudest moments.

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