If I owned a bookstore...

The library at my school wasn’t a particularly awe-inspiring place; creaking rows of brown shelves were corralled by a particularly cranky librarian with shocking blue eyeshadow. To me, though, it was magical. I owe my vocabulary, my imagination and my talent for quietly opening a packet of Rascals to that space. If I opened a bookstore, I would want it to emanate the feeling that I got every time I stepped foot into that library. Safe, happy and comfortable.

‘Stories by Starlight’ was one of my favourite events in primary school. Every once in a while, our library would host a candle-lit evening of hot chocolate and stories. We would sit on the floor in front of a lurid pink couch, upon which Mrs Mickey (the nicer of the two librarians, as her name suggests) would perch. In my bookstore, I would continue this tradition by hosting stories by starlight for my younger customers. Maybe I could even host a grown-up version, swapping hot chocolate for wine. I imagine I would be doing both children and parents a favour…

Ideally, I would like to have a large bookstore: a place where people can get lost among the shelves and in the pages of their books. Bean bags and wooden stools would serve as landmarks to light their way, and if those don’t help, I’ll have a couple of librarians to guide them. Outlandish it may be, but I’d employ people who actually know something about books and can offer educated advice.

In the centre of my literary maze, I would have a little café; a coffee machine, a medley of teas and, of course, a bottomless jar of rusks. A steaming cup of Rooibos is always on hand while I’m reading, so why shouldn’t my customers have the same homely experience? I am a stickler for the sanctity of a new book though, so I would have a smallish collection of eat-and-read books that people can peruse while they’re sipping a coffee. If they dig into the book to the point that they dig for their wallets, they would find a clean, fingerprint-less version on the neighbouring shelves. If they’re feeling particularly daring, they can purchase the book first and then sit down on a squashy armchair to enjoy it with a hot cup of something.

My childhood was fuelled by fairy dust and the Famous Five. I may sound like an old woman, but the youth these days are so swamped in technology that they’re at risk of losing their imaginations. It is a vehement belief of mine that children need books, especially fantasy books, in order to grow into functioning adults. Without that wonderful escape that Harry Potter, the Faraway Tree and Roald Dahl provide, how will children learn to dream, and to think for themselves? My bookstore would be piled with these books and more.

I have a list of books that I think everyone should read at least once in their lives. My reasoning varies. The Lord of The Rings, for example, is so excruciatingly tedious that finishing it is akin to finishing a marathon: a feat of endurance not to be hurriedly repeated. To Kill A Mockingbird prevails through the decades as a delectable combination of educational and engaging. For want of a better word, Shantaram is an epic journey of the human spirit. The title of Mukiwa: A White Boy in Africa speaks for itself - it is a haunting, raw depiction of Rhodesia’s transformation into Zimbabwe. These too, would be found on my shelves.

Of course, I would stock the classics and the standards, the self-helps and the money-churners. But the stars of the show are the books that my customers need to read in order to learn and to grow, which is the goal of any good book. This would be the goal of my bookstore: to help readers to grow beyond the confines of what they should read and into the boundless worlds that books offer, giving them the confidence to live their lives as the main character.