The Living Room
Underlined twice on page 40, in pencil, by someone who clearly needed to hear it too.
Every book below passed through a staff member's hands before it reached the shelf — reread, priced, and shelved with a note.
Underlined twice on page 40, in pencil, by someone who clearly needed to hear it too.
Twenty-six pages. We've sold four copies this month and reordered from the small press twice — that's a record for us.
A slim, strange little argument for boredom. Not for everyone. For the right person, everything.
Spine is soft from being read on a beach somewhere. The ending still holds up.
She wrote most of it three tables from where you're probably standing. Ask us about the launch night — it rained, and nobody left.
Three staff members have bought their own copy of this after reading the store's.
Read one story at a time. Do not binge it. We learned this the hard way.
Dust jacket has a tear along the spine fold, priced down for it. The photographs inside are untouched.
Only one copy left. We keep meaning to order more and keep forgetting.
Six hundred pages on shipping routes. Somehow it moves fast. A customer returned to argue with us about chapter twelve for forty minutes, and we'd do it again.
Corners chewed by someone's toddler, sold as-is at half price. Still a favorite for storytime.
A former staff pick, three years running. It keeps coming back to us in trade-ins, which we take as a good sign.
Margin notes throughout, in three different hands. We left them in on purpose.
Came in as part of an estate sale. The previous owner dated every reading in the front cover — eleven times since 1994.
His first novel, set two streets from here. He still stops by to sign stock when he's in town.
Understory opened in 1998 in the basement of a hardware store that has since become three other things. We moved upstairs in 2011 and have stayed put since — same creaky floor, same argument about whether the poetry section should live near the front door (poetry won).
We don't sort by algorithm. Every book that comes through the door is read, or skimmed, or at minimum flipped through by someone on staff before it's priced and shelved. If a book doesn't earn its shelf space, it goes to the discount cart out front instead of the recycling bin — someone always takes it home.
Bring in a box, a shelf's worth, or a single book you're ready to let go of. We look through everything on the spot — no appointment needed during open hours. You can take store credit (worth 30% more than cash) or cash on the counter.
We're currently buying deep in poetry, story collections, and anything by a writer from this region. We're overstocked on business bestsellers and diet books, so those may get a pass — no hard feelings.
We hold twenty folding chairs and a bad microphone. That's turned out to be enough for a decade of these.
Street parking after 6pm, or the lot behind the bakery two doors down — they don't mind if you're quick about it.
Want first look at what's new before it hits the shelf? We send a short note once a month — new arrivals, upcoming events, and whatever the discount cart is doing.
One email a month. No trading your address to anyone.