Still Grieving
I don’t remember if I made a proper post about Borders closing. Probably I did. But I’m still grieving. I know, it’s ridiculous, and there are plenty of people with much worse to grieve about, especially during the holidays.
Barnes & Noble keeps emailing me and asking me to comb through the hundreds (thousands?) of blog posts I’ve made in the last ten years or so to change all my links to Borders to links to Barnes & Noble.
As I posted on Facebook:
I don’t have time, I don’t care, and I LOVED Borders. I do not love you. I grudgingly appreciate that you’re still in business. Please do not mistake that for the eleven year—oftentimes daily—relationship I had with Borders based upon my love, devotion, and gratitude. Not to mention the memories, which I treasure. I will always miss Borders. The links stay as they are.
Borders has always been my home and my refuge. I’ve often said it was more a house of worship than any house of worship has ever been to me. All those books, so much information, and always the hope they hold the solution I desire, the knowledge I want, the inspiration for my writing, or just an escape from my problems.
And then there’s the community of people in the café. I miss knowing I can go to Borders and be among friends. I have a great café I go to, but it’s not the same, not even close. I love it, it’s awesome, and it’s the best café ever, but I don’t have a “circle” like I did at Borders.
When Barnes & Noble emailed me again yesterday, I got all sad, probably because it’s the holiday season, and with Tucson being my new home where I’ll be mostly alone during the holidays, I miss Borders especially.
It’s not only the people: I loved the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, too.
I miss Borders soooooo much.
But I think I’m going to rent a little shed and install a treadmill desk. How cool is that? I can’t wait. I’ve been wanting one for years, and I just don’t have time to do two hours of walking every night anymore, so I need to get my exercise in another way.
Do you miss Borders?
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Natasha Fondren is a writer traveling the U.S. in a camper with her four cats. She is currently enjoying the lizards and desert heat in Arizona.
Although we never had a Borders near where we are, there was one nearby in Rochester, NY and Mary and I did a book signing there with Ed Hoch, the master of the mystery short story and a really nice guy.
Sometimes it seems like change is most often for the worse. Or maybe I am just getting old and cranky.
I do indeed. For years we had our monday night writing group meeting there and I loved it. Now we meet at a coffee shop and I really don’t like it at all.
Tell B & N to go F*** themselves. It’s your blog, and your business! And then pull a Monty Burns on them (after he’s just announced no bonuses for the ‘semi-skilled’ workers, including Homer): “and one more thing: Merrrry Christmas!”
What gall! What nerve! Borders would never have requested a thing like that! I can’t stand B & N. You put it perfectly. “I grudgingly respect that you’re still in business”. Exactly.
Yeah, Natasha, I’m still grieving, too. My local Borders here in South Portland, Maine, was actually the most lucrative in the whole chain and was the last to close … but still gone. Now Books a Million (with its too-cheery BAM!) is there. But no free Wi-Fi … It was odd walking into the old store that I’d spent so many hours reading, working on my laptop, and just generally being a writer in a bookstore, which is like a dieter in a bakery. It was just heaven.
~ Meg
Darn. I’ve been so busy I didn’t even know it closed. Now you’ve really depressed me.
Rick! Really? It happened this summer. It was BIG! I can’t believe you missed it, LOL!