Last Saturday was Independent Bookstore Day, and I (of course) bought a pile of books at my favorite bookstore in SF, Dog-Eared Books. There’s nothing like walking into a great bookstore, and I always leave with a stack of new reads. Not only that – I always find new books I could never find anywhere else. In a world of bland recommendations, indie bookstores remain the best way to explore the wonderful world of print. So I wanted to take a moment to really appreciate them – and break down what makes them so special.

1. They’re the best way to browse

Most of my online book discovery is through sites like CrimeReads, or algorithmic recommendations. Now I’m no Luddite, and I appreciate the convenience that algorithms can bring. It’s really nice, sometimes, to hit “subscribe” on toothpaste or laundry detergent and never worry about running out again. But to date, in my opinion, no algorithm has really cracked books.

Algorithms are reliable. They want to understand your taste, break it into little chunks, and then exploit the the hell out of those patterns for recommendations. And this means that my algorithmic book recommendations are either books that I’m already aware of, or best sellers. Neither of these are necessarily bad…

…but as a reader, I’m not quite so reliable. I like to read both fiction and nonfiction, and go through phases of reading different genres. I bounce between mystery, fantasy, sci-fi, economics, politics, and science on a regular basis. Ands I love to be surprised and delighted by a book I never knew existed – or re-introduced to one I was curious about.

In my visit to the bookstore this weekend, for example, I found a copy of Ducks by Kate Beaton. Kate Beaton is one of my favorite cartoonists and I remembered vaguely that she’d released a book. But I wasn’t sure that I’d enjoy a book about life in the oil sands, and never hit “buy” – until I was able to flip through IRL. Seeing the art style reminded me why I love Beaton, and gave me the confidence to purchase something out of my comfort zone. And seeing the book in the real world instead of in the dopamine-filled online context made it easier to pursue curiosity, not just comfort.

2. They feel like an exploration

I have only a little shame in saying that I absolutely buy books for their covers. I feel so strongly about covers that I order books from the UK to get the prettier covers. And so one of the most common ways I find something new is a really intriguing cover just in my peripheral vision. There’s nothing like picking up a book that passes the vibe check and realizing there’s a whole new topic to get excited about.

This weekend, for example, I passed by the mythology section on my way to sci-fi/fantasy. (Pause for a second to appreciate that the staff at Dog-Eared books have separated the two! Which is wonderful, as mythology books – compendia and modern retellings – generally have a different vibe than pure fantasy. Loving the care put into these choices…) And prominently on display, bright on a shelf of dark covers, was Flying Snakes and Griffin Claws by Adrienne Mayor – a book that promises to explore the origins of myths via science and anthropology.

I LOVE this kind of thing – the cross-genre exploration and deep-dive into a very human subject. But it’s published by Princeton Review Press (not really advertising mavens) and online recommendations tend not to fare well with cross-genre writing. If I hadn’t spied it on a shelf, I’d have missed out completely. And these explorations – this serendipity – can only happen when I can experience things I didn’t even know I was looking for.

I read for a variety of reasons – for fun, for comfort, for curiosity – but one of the big reasons is to expand my horizons. It’s hard to do that without finding new sources of information and inspiration. And because bookstores are deliberately curated for a bunch of different readers, they’re great ways to find new writing and learn a thing or two. It’s this kind of discovery that makes a trip o the bookstore so exciting – the feeling of uncovering something brand-new.

3. They’re full of care for readers

It’s such a warm feeling to walk into a place that is cared for. Whether it’s a home or a public space, there’s this feeling of joining a community that is hard to replicate between the standardized walls of a megamart. Walking into a good bookstore is an instant portal to acceptance.

You can tell pretty quickly when you’re in one of these places. The walls are crammed with books, floor to ceiling. Handwritten signs mark out different sections, and the staff’s favorite offerings are prominently on display. Someone has taken the time to curate the selection, and has been vulnerable enough to share what they like for all of us to read.

Walking into a bookstore is like walking into someone’s mind. You learn about their interests and priorities; the writing that keeps them up at night. There’s no other space that can afford so much asynchronous intimacy with its management. And for me, there’s no better way to encounter a new book than in a place where someone thoughtfully selected it.

My local bookstores also do so much to keep reading accessible. They offer extensive used book selections, just as thoughtfully curated as their new sections (and sometimes more extensive). Many also offer free book drops where patrons can pick up an extra book or two. And it feels as good, if not better, to patronize a store that care not only for which books to put on its shelves, but how many can access them.

The care sets independent bookstores apart from their corporate and online counterparts. I read to learn more about others, to empathize with their experiences, and indie bookstores are a microdose of that empathy before the main event. Walk in, and feel cared about from the moment you set foot in the door to the last page of the book you buy – who could resist?

I’ll be back soon with more of the usual fare. Until next time, stay cozy, and stay curious!