The Keys to the Kingdom
Whichever city we have ended up in around the world, we have inevitably headed straight for the nearest bookstore. In Moscow, we bought wonderful Japanese block prints in Dom Knigi, and treading the creaking boards of the upstairs room beyond the door in San Francisco's City Lights felt like walking in the steps of Dylan, Ginsberg and Ferlinghetti. Kinokuniya in Singapore had the most amazing stationery section with gold flecked writing paper and glass pens, while in London I invariably found my feet beating a path to the teetering stacks of John Sandoe's on the way home from work.
I had better come clean - I am a bookaholic. It's rare to return home without some new trophy stashed among the groceries and nappies, and my pile of books to read almost outweighs those on the shelves. And those are just the ones acquired since moving to Hampshire. The 'real books', (the room full of unopened Pickfords boxes in the basement where I write), are stacked from floor to ceiling. I won't feel settled until the last one is unpacked, and as we have moved have found myself with multiple copies of favourite volumes because when I have needed some book have been unable to lay my hands on it. Somewhere out there, I just know there is an empty library waiting for me and my numerous copies of Madame Bovary and Bonjour Tristesse. Who knows if it will be here now - the pilot has started talking about Sumatra, Abu Dhabi and Hong Kong.
The greatest pleasure of the writer's group in London was that we met in the Nomad bookstore on Fulham Road after hours - it was like getting the keys to the kingdom. One of the first things that drew us to Petersfield where we are based (for now ...) was the number of bookstores. Firstly, there is the labyrinthine second hand and rare book dealers Petersfield Book Shop, run by Pompeii's impressively tattooed number one fan and family. The open-all-hours courtyard where you can pick up three books for a £1 and put the money in an honesty box reminded me immediately of the open air bookstore in Ojai - Petersfield suddenly felt like home.
Round the corner is the wonderful One Tree Books - everything you could possibly want from an independent dealer, including thoughtful recommendations and now a lovely coffee shop where the little ones can happily sit at their own table colouring while you grab a moment's peace. Elsewhere in the town there is Waterstones, and the second hand sections in Oxfam and Sue Ryder are unsurpassed - beautifully arranged and it's rare to leave empty-handed. (Frankly with a habit like mine, if you bought everything at main dealers or Amazon you would be bankrupt). We are pretty spoiled living here with so many great book stores within toddling distance.
I had better come clean - I am a bookaholic. It's rare to return home without some new trophy stashed among the groceries and nappies, and my pile of books to read almost outweighs those on the shelves. And those are just the ones acquired since moving to Hampshire. The 'real books', (the room full of unopened Pickfords boxes in the basement where I write), are stacked from floor to ceiling. I won't feel settled until the last one is unpacked, and as we have moved have found myself with multiple copies of favourite volumes because when I have needed some book have been unable to lay my hands on it. Somewhere out there, I just know there is an empty library waiting for me and my numerous copies of Madame Bovary and Bonjour Tristesse. Who knows if it will be here now - the pilot has started talking about Sumatra, Abu Dhabi and Hong Kong.
The greatest pleasure of the writer's group in London was that we met in the Nomad bookstore on Fulham Road after hours - it was like getting the keys to the kingdom. One of the first things that drew us to Petersfield where we are based (for now ...) was the number of bookstores. Firstly, there is the labyrinthine second hand and rare book dealers Petersfield Book Shop, run by Pompeii's impressively tattooed number one fan and family. The open-all-hours courtyard where you can pick up three books for a £1 and put the money in an honesty box reminded me immediately of the open air bookstore in Ojai - Petersfield suddenly felt like home.
Round the corner is the wonderful One Tree Books - everything you could possibly want from an independent dealer, including thoughtful recommendations and now a lovely coffee shop where the little ones can happily sit at their own table colouring while you grab a moment's peace. Elsewhere in the town there is Waterstones, and the second hand sections in Oxfam and Sue Ryder are unsurpassed - beautifully arranged and it's rare to leave empty-handed. (Frankly with a habit like mine, if you bought everything at main dealers or Amazon you would be bankrupt). We are pretty spoiled living here with so many great book stores within toddling distance.
Petersfield library is also great - and it is amazing how much the little ones enjoy choosing new books every few weeks in spite of groaning shelves in their bedrooms. The library also runs excellent drop-in sessions for children, so it is well worth checking out your nearest one to see what is on offer. Last year I saw the lovely Sophie Kinsella of Shopaholic fame talk - given the chance to attend a reading, do go - it's always good to meet a Real Live Best-selling Author to reassure you that they are as human as you and me. As I used to work around the corner from Chelsea Library, I'd often stroll through the confetti on the steps of the registry office to find refuge there. You would often see Laurie Lee, Anita Brookner or some other local author wandering among the stacks. The secretary at our gallery had a phobia about communicable diseases and she couldn't understand why anyone would want to read a book someone else had handled - she avoided the library like the plague. I have always liked living dangerously - always been rather fond of second hand books, love the book plates, dedications and margin notes. Well loved books are like old friends, and they will always find a welcome here. As a hand written sign in City Lights declared: 'Buying more books than you can read is just the soul reaching for eternity.'
