Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know Borders has bit the dust. I’m very sad about this. When I first moved here, there were many occasions I needed good wi-fi. As a matter of fact, for two months I haunted Borders every day. I occasionally hit it now and then when I need a change of venue, and it’s where I purchase all my Christmas gifts.
Not any more.
I’m really sad as a reader. I’d enter Borders and take a good, long whiff of the Seattle Coffee aroma permeating the air. I’d wander around the “New Release” table and dream of seeing MY book on that table someday. Strolling over to the magazine rack, I’d marvel at how many magazines there were dedicated to building muscle or telling us every detail of Kim Kardashian’s engagement and how few left with writing or stories or literature of some kind. And I’d buy the latest Writer’s Digest or Poets and Writers.
My Borders had very comfy chairs, plenty of electrical outlets and tables, a fine little cafe shop. Not anymore. I visited first thing this morning. All the chairs are taken out, the cafe is shut down and the tables covered with merchandise. I will admit to tears in my eyes.
I’m crushed, and wondering if I’ll ever find another haven, a break from working in the same environment every day, a place to delightfully diddle away a few hours. As a writer, I’m scared. A whole industry is changing so rapidly and it’s difficult to know where to plant your feet. And I’ll never see a book of mine on a Border’s shelf.
It’s a hard death for that particular dream.
So yes, I haz a sad. The closing of Borders signals some huge changes coming up on several levels. Hopefully they will be for the better, but like any change the pain comes first.