Back in July of 2012, Jason and I started talking about opening our own business. We discussed the pros and cons: the economy was terrible; we'd be dependent on others (namely, book-buyers) to earn our living; but we'd be doing something we love (talking about books is one of my favorite things, second only to reading books!) and eventually decided to make the big leap. It was wonderful and terrifying.
I love our little bookstore. The biggest drawback is that it is rather little; our overstock quickly spilled over to our home office, dining room, and basement. But I can't emphasize enough how awesome it is to have so much reading material right at my fingertips. (The downside is we can't have company over for dinner in the dining room anymore, but I was never much of a socialite anyway.) I can't remember the last time I was this happy.
But owning your own business is hard. We've missed holidays and birthdays and nephews' baseball games and nieces' dance recitals. We've lost sleep over how to pay the electric bill and the rent. We've had author events cancelled due to blizzards and illness. We've even had a puppy piddle on our carpet.
Why am I going into all this now? Because, quite frankly, we've had a terrible month. I'm not sure if it's due to the rise of the Kindle or the impending cicada invasion, but June has been our worst sales month so far (yep, even worse than February, believe it or not!) So I'm asking everyone I can think of to help support our bookstore.
How can you help? The easiest way, of course, would be to stop by and buy some books. We'd love to see you, and as I mentioned, sometimes you can't shut me up when I'm talking about a good book. If we're too far away, check out our Amazon storefront and see if we have any titles up there you might be interested in. Or visit our website at www.booksandboos.com to see other titles we carry. 
Perhaps you're a Kindle reader, and don't like to buy physical books anymore. In that case, please consider donating to us directly by either visiting our donations page or PayPalling us directly at stacey@booksandboos.com. Donating is the only way to guarantee that I won't chastise you for owning a Kindle.
I can't thank our friends, family, casual acquaintances, and total strangers enough for your support.
And I promise to be funny again next week.

I like to participate in the MS Walk every year. As you can see from this picture, the MS Walk isn't just about fundraising to find a cure for MS. It's also a major arena to showcase your athletic talents. That's my friend Carol sitting to my left in that picture. Think of her as the Burgess Meredith to my Rocky. This picture was taken at the Rhode Island Walk MS in 2010, and you can see that we were at the peak of our physical prowess.
Besides being a major athletic competition, the MS Walk has benefited me in many, many other ways. I don't do it every year just because my friend Renee can no longer feel her hands and therefore has to wear elastic-waist pants. I do it so that when I go to the doctor for my annual physical and she asks me if I exercise regularly, I can honestly answer yes. Because thanks to the MS Walk, I now walk regularly, once a year, like clockwork.
It also doesn't hurt that I can list the MS Walk on my resume. Of course, I prefer to list it as "volunteer work with the handicapped" which would make me feel bad except that I know Renee does the same thing. Every year when she asks me to participate, she puts it on her resume as "working with the mentally challenged to get them involved in everyday activities." So it goes both ways.
I don't like to brag, but I can get pretty hard-core with my fundraising. See, the only way to get a free t-shirt proving that you were actually at the MS Walk is to raise at least $100.00. I like to start early, hitting up my family at Christmastime, when they can afford it the least. Then, when I see the girl scouts selling cookies outside the grocery store, I like to hop in to one of the store's electric scooters and putter up to them, pretending that I have MS (or some other severe handicap that causes me to drool and foam at the mouth. Like they know the difference. They're ten!) Usually their moms are pretty generous about paying me to go away. Finally, to make up the difference, I contact my friends and blackmail them with pictures of drunken, absinthe-fueled evenings at various horror conventions (I cannot tell you how important it is to stay sober at these events. The blackmail photos alone are worth tens of dollars.) That usually gets me to my fundraising goal, proving that I have no scruples when it comes to earning a free five dollar t-shirt.
I think everyone should get involved in volunteer work. Honestly, it will make you feel better about yourself. I know I do!

I hate to sound Grinchy, but I’m a little tired of giving this holiday season.
I’ve bought gift baskets to support the National MS Society and candy bars to support the local high school kids.  I’ve donated canned goods to Gemma Moran and shopped for toys on Black Friday for the Stuff an Ambulance Toy Drive.  I’ve donated a dollar to St. Jude’s at the register every time I buy groceries, and bought my Christmas cards through Easter Seals.  So why is it that I can’t look the guy in the Santa hat ringing the bell outside Stop-n-Shop in the eye when I exit the store?
It’s a tough time of year, money-wise, and really, I feel like I’ve already done my part.  Half of my friends and family members are getting homemade papier-mâché ornaments for the holidays because we’re on a really tight budget right now.  We keep our house at 55 degrees and dress the cats in flannel to save on the heating bill.  But every time I pass the bell-ringing Santa with the red pot, I feel bad.
Really I feel bad because I don’t want to give him my spare change.  My cupboards are bare from the canned goods drive and I’ve been struggling to come up with creative dinner ideas using the mustard sauce and beef log from the MS Society baskets.  When a pint of sour cream comes to $2.89 (with the St. Jude donation tacked on), you know our grocery budget has been blown to snowflake-like smithereens.  If I want to hang on to the two measly quarters that I’vegot rubbing together in my pocket, isn’t that my prerogative?
Maybe I want to save that money for something special – maybe as a treat for my nephews.  A cup of coffee on a cold day or an apple pie from McDonalds after a long day at work.
Oh, sure, beady-eyed Santa, you might be looking into my soul and knowing that none of those things cost 50 cents and you could feed a family for a week with my two quarters, but my intentions are good. Okay, no they’re not.  Really.  I. just. want. to. keep. my. change.
Fine, take my money.  Here.  It was burning a hole in my pocket anyway.  But that’s it.  I am DONE giving this holiday season.  I’ve decided to avoid all malls and stores for the rest of the holiday season; that way, the bell-ringing Santa menace can’t guilt me out of any more money.We can survive on beef log casserole in mustard sauce for the next two weeks, right?