“I love Poe!” a teenage girl exclaimed, racing toward a shelf of Edgar Allan Poe volumes. I was sitting in BookMarx, a small independent bookstore in Ohio, when she burst through the door, a weathered-looking elderly woman trailing behind her.
“Go ahead, take a look,” the woman said as she glanced warily at the shelves. The older woman was clad in an old parka; the younger, in an oversize heavy-metal band sweatshirt.
The girl grabbed a copy and began examining it before stumbling over the title “The Cask of Amontillado.” The shop’s owner, John Byron Kuhner, gently supplied the pronunciation before recommending a few more stories. Minutes later, the girl walked to the counter carrying three books.
As John rang them up, he asked the teenager if she’d like to join the frequent buyer program. She nodded vigorously.
“Oh, here we go again with those books,” the older woman sighed.
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