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Every year, King 5 does a survey of Western Washington residents where they collate all the love showered upon various people, places, and things. The result is their annual Best Of List. This year, ninety-seven bookstores made the list, which is an absolutely lovely number (even if some smartasses listed Amazon.com as their preferred bookstore). Now, A Good Book made the list, and while we didn’t make the top spot, we did very well. 

In fact, Evelyn will still occasionally come sliding down the aisle doing her best Mary Katherine Gallagher impression, and we’ve seen Mark do his best (or worst, really) John Travolta Saturday Night Fever dance while shelving books. This is what happens when your local bookstore cracks the TOP TEN of KING 5’s BEST OF WESTERN WASHINGTON list. 

That’s right. 10th place. All ours. And yours. Thank you for voting for us. We appreciate your love, and hope to continue reciprocating it for years to come with shelves and shelves and tables and tables of really wonderful books. 

Thank you. It’s a really lovely present. 

Now, on to the books. Let’s do a bit of Speed Dating With Books. 

“They came like specters from the dark maw of the bayou, first ghostly light in the fog, then the rasp of a motor: an aluminum powerboat scudding across lacquer-black water.”

“Violet Morgan often wondered why she was so skilled at dressing a corpse, yet was embarrassingly incompetent in the simplest household task, such as selecting draperies or hiring housemaids.” 

“The future king of Bohemia lay dying on the floor at her feet.” 

“In the town of Martinsburg on the lower tip of the Valley, a seventeen-year-old rebel named Belle Boyd sat by the windows of her wood-frame home, waiting for the war to come to her. It was July 4 and the war was still new, only two and a half months old, but Belle—known by one young rival as ‘the fastest girl in Virginia or anywhere else for that matter’—had long been accustomed to things operating on her schedule, and at her whim.” 

“Within months of settling at Alki Point in November 1851, Seattle’s founding families realized they had made a mistake.” 

This one is a like dating one of those boys who insists on that you really pay attention to the 90% of all communication that is body language. 

We’ll be here Friday and Saturday this week, doing our part for the perennial celebration of crazed consumerism. The Old Cannery will be lighting the bridge and throwing sparkly lights into the sky on Friday night, and Saturday is Small Business Saturday. We’ll have a handful of authors in the building to assist you with finding books (as well as selling their own). There will be a raffle too (though we should probably figure out what cool books we might raffle). 

And then, in December, we’re doing Enigma Night. What we’re doing that night (which will be December 10th, from 7 - 9 PM) is still a mystery, but then, it’s supposed to be, right? Regardless, mark your calendars, and plan on coming down for some food and drink and merriment, bookstore style.



Overheard At The Store »»

Colby: I understand that you celebrate the giving of food to one another at this time of year, and so I made you this.

Bob: What is that?

Colby: It’s a hostoatopus. You like things stuffed inside one another, right? It’s an octopus stuffed inside a stoat inside a hog.

Bob: That’s . . .

Colby: But, since I am a delicate grass- and nut-eater, it’s all natural. Kale and squash and pine needles and, oh! I tried to put some of that boor bon that you said you like in it, but I didn’t know it was flammable, and I think the squash might be a little crunchy.

Bob: I, uh, don’t know what to say.

Colby: Here. Have a bite.

Bob: I couldn’t.

Colby: Please?

Bob: No, really. I — oh, don’t do that. Oh, please don’t make that noise. That’s . . . really.

Alice: I’ve never seen a marmot cry before. Is that what he’s doing?

Bob: I feel terrible. Here. Let me taste that.

Alice: And?

Bob: Now I feel worse.

Alice: Look at him. His fur is singed too. You should really try another bite.

Bob: You try a bite!

Alice: I’m not the one who needs to make friends, Bob.

Bob: (Sigh) I hate this time of year. 



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