Where I live, we don’t have many bookstores. For someone who’s spent nearly two decades in the book industry, that’s a quiet kind of ache. So when the Friends of the Cumberland County Library held their fall book sale, I made sure I was there.
I dropped in on day two of a three day event with a little cash in my pocket and no list in my hand.
Just being among the books
It wasn’t a big sale. Ten long tables, a few bookcases, and the library’s own shelves standing quietly behind it all. But the moment I started walking those tables, something in me settled.
Novels and history. Cookbooks, more of them than I expected. Audiobooks, music CDs, DVDs, even jigsaw puzzles. Spines facing up, little colored price dots on nearly every one, most of them somewhere between one and three dollars.
I didn’t go in with a plan. I went in to see what would catch my eye.
My first pass was quick. A title I’d been meaning to read for ages. An author I recognized. Something I knew the second I saw it. My arms filled up fast, and the two women running the sale kindly offered to box up my books and set them aside so I could keep going. That small kindness changed the whole morning.
Then I went back. And back again.
The second time through is my favorite part. That’s where I slow down. The books I’d only half noticed on my first pass got more of my attention this time. I picked them up, which I hadn’t done the first time. I read the back. I held each one a little longer and let the weight of it help me decide whether it was coming home with me or going back on the table.
The books I left behind
Here’s the part I keep thinking about. I’m almost certain there were books on those tables that are on my TBR list. I never checked.
I didn’t want to stand there going back and forth between the table and my phone, scrolling and comparing. I wanted to be immersed. I wanted a book to speak to me at that moment, not because a list said it should.
So some of them stayed behind. And honestly? That felt good. A TBR list is a living, breathing thing. Some books will wait on it for years. Some you’ll eventually admit you were never going to read. Walking away from a few isn’t missing out. It’s just not right now.
I also didn’t feel the need to come away with everything. I just needed to be there, among the books, and notice how I felt.
The ones that came home
Some of what I carried out had been sitting on my list for a long time, and a few were hardcovers. For a dollar or two, getting the nicer edition felt like a little gift to myself.
Then I spotted Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks. I had read it before and loved it, but it had never lived on my own shelves. I didn’t even hesitate. There was no way I was leaving it there.
I picked up a few for my son too, including the first two books in a series I’m hoping might hook him. That’s the beauty of a dollar book. There’s no pressure in it. If he loves them, wonderful. If he doesn’t, they’ll go to his classroom or to another kid who will. They can sit on his shelf for a week or a year. I just like knowing they’ll be there if and when he’s ready.
A conversation about books
Somewhere in all that browsing, I fell into conversation with those two wonderful women. I never caught their names, and I didn’t mention the website. I just wanted to talk about books with people who clearly love them as much as I do.
We talked about how few bookstores there are around here, how we’re living in something of a book desert. I shared some of what I learned in my years in the industry about what that costs a community. It’s not just about where you buy a book. It touches the local economy, and even whether bigger businesses see a place as somewhere worth coming to. They told me about a bookstore they’d hoped was opening nearby before it ran into trouble. I could hear how much they wanted it.
It was maybe ten minutes. But it was the kind of conversation that reminds me why these spaces matter, and why the people who keep them going matter even more.
The proceeds from the sale go to the Friends, and their brochure shows just how far that reaches. Summer Reading and youth programs. New books, media, and technology. Author talks and computer skills classes. Even furniture and equipment for the library itself. So the books I carried out were doing a lot more than filling my shelves. They were helping the library do more for the next reader.
Already looking forward
At checkout, I was glad I’d brought cash. They were taking other forms of payment, but cash just makes it easier. I’d set myself a budget before I came, with a little cushion, because you never know if you’ll leave with a few books or a bag you can barely lift.
Then they told me about the next two sales, and I’ll admit I got a little excited. Okay…maybe a lot more excited.
In December, there’s a clearance sale. Perfect timing for Christmas. It’s already on my calendar, and this time I want to be there the first morning, right when the doors open.
In January, there’s a bag sale. They hand you a bag, and whatever you can fit inside is five dollars. I’m already picturing it. The cookbooks I passed on. One of those big photography books I flipped through. The ones I was on the fence about, and the ones I think someone else might love. When the stakes are that low, curiosity gets to lead.
Before I left, I made sure I was on the Friends’ email list. If your library has a Friends group, get on theirs too. It’s how you’ll hear about sales like this one, and about all the quiet ways you can support a place that’s been supporting readers all along.
And if you’ve never been to a library book sale, maybe this is your sign. Bring a little cash. Take your time. Walk the tables twice. And see what finds you.
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