Yesterday American Booksellers Association CEO Allison Hill welcomed attendees at the 21st Winter Institute with a story about the parallels between an unexpectedly difficult but beautiful hike she took years ago and what booksellers have experienced in the last few years:
"Many, many years ago--I was working on a cooperative farm in what was then Czechoslovakia--which is a much longer story for another day--but for today, I'm just going to tell you about a hike I took while I was there. I didn't have a map of the countryside or mountains around the village of Studenec where I was staying, but I could see the mountains and they were beautiful and it looked a little daunting but I was 21... so I decided to go hiking. I packed some water, shouldered my pack, and set out. And the first stretch was good. It was a steady trail and as I looked left I could see out over the countryside this group of women wearing colorful kerchiefs and hoeing potatoes. And as I kept walking, I got into the rhythm, took in the scenery--over to my right were old granite boundary stones set back from the path, and off in the distance was this majestic stone lookout tower. Then I hit the first switchback, and the trail got way steeper than I expected. So I tightened my little REI backpack straps, leaned forward, kept going.
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| Allison Hill | |
"And then the next switchback came. Steeper still. And then another and another. And each turn seemed to demand more of me than the last. The pack hadn't changed, but it sure felt heavier, and that sun sure felt hotter. I stopped paying attention to my footing, and I stopped enjoying the view, and I started worrying about if I was gonna make it and started thinking I don't want to do this anymore. But what kept me going were the moments of grace--a cloud drifted by and blocked the hot sun for a few moments, the trail suddenly plateaued and there was a flat stretch where I could catch my breath, and there was the occasional quiet nod from other hikers when we passed each other on the trail.
"Sound familiar? A series of switchbacks that began with the pandemic. Not one big challenge over the last five years, but a series of steeper and steeper switchbacks--and definitely no map for what you've been through. And some of you have dealt with far worse than my little hike--we'll call it snakes and steep drop-offs. And with each change of the incline, you've had to change your strategy unexpectedly. With each switchback that required you to double-back, you had to trust that you were still making progress. You had to accept along the way that the world is no longer mapped by a '5-Year Plan.' Often we aren't expecting the challenge that comes next.
"This journey you all have been on has been tremendous. From any perspective what you've been doing is hard. From my perspective--up here on this stage--it's been beautiful. And it's been important.
"During a loneliness epidemic, you've created spaces for people to gather and connect. During an era of disinformation, you've provided history and truth. During a time when the voices of Black people, trans people, people of color, and LGBTQIA2S+ communities at large are being silenced and erased, you continue to center and celebrate these vital stories. As the world has been flooded with AI-generated content, you've championed authors and illustrators, real people who put their hearts and souls into their books. And you've continued the day-to-day seemingly ordinary, but truly extraordinary, gesture of connecting readers with books that entertain them, reassure them, reflect them, challenge them, and often change them.
"I hope that while you've been doing that vital work your path has included those moments of grace that keep indie booksellers going--the young person who returns to tell you how much they loved the book you recommended, the customer who shares that your store feels like their refuge, the debut author who thanks you for hosting their very first event.
"And I hope this week Winter Institute offers you that same grace--a flat surface to catch your breath, a cloud to block the glaring sun for just a moment, and nods from 1,000 other hikers to quietly say, I see you, this is hard, but it's important and we're in it together."