□ Marking One Full Year at Imprint Bookshop□In uncertain times, we’re reminded: stories connect us, sustain us, and keep the flame of community burning bright.
It seems these past few months I’ve been cutting it closer and closer to the wire with these newsletters—and with less than a week left in October, this one will just barely make it in under the line. The reasons are multilayered. The reprieve I imagined would come with autumn never quite arrived. This season has proven to be just as full as summer—only with more sweaters, fewer daylight hours, and the creeping awareness that the holidays are already fast approaching.
Nearly everyone I talk with lately seems to echo the same thing: life simply doesn’t slow down. Even when we promise ourselves we’ll simplify, the universe seems to respond by handing us more complexity—like it’s testing our resolve. I sometimes wonder: if I did find a quiet moment, would I even know what to do with it? Or have we all been conditioned by the times to meet chaos with more motion, more doing, more noise.
And then there’s the other reason these newsletters take me so long: the ever-raging dumpster fire of national politics. Just when I think I have a clear idea of what I want to touch on with you all, the landscape shifts again. It’s hard to know where to set one’s footing when everything feels like it’s moving beneath us. We know this constant destabilization is part of the authoritarian playbook, but that knowledge doesn’t make it any less disorienting—or infuriating.
Still, in the midst of it all, there are moments that demand a pause, and this is one of them. Because as of November 1st, we will have officially completed our first full year at the helm of Imprint Bookshop—one full orbit around the sun. That alone feels worthy reflection, maybe even celebration. I promised myself I’d chronicle this first year with you through these monthly missives, and it feels right to bring that cycle full circle now.
When I began training with Sam and Thom last October, I remember being both exhilarated and daunted. There was so much to learn and absorb—so many moving parts behind what seems, to the casual eye, like the simple act of selling books. Sam once laughed and told me that the entire inventory “lived in her brain,” and I remember thinking there’s no way I’d ever get there. But here we are, a year later, and—sure enough—the inventory now lives in mine.
Yet what I’m most proud of isn’t what’s on those shelves—it’s the relationships we’ve built across the counter. We’ve put our stamp on every corner of the shop, and you’ve responded with such warmth and affirmation that I find myself in a constant state of gratitude (and mild disbelief). The sense of togetherness that’s taken root here has borne fruit faster and deeper than I ever could’ve dreamed.
People often marvel at my ability to remember their names, and while I take pride in that, the truth is: you make it easy. Authenticity tends to be contagious. When you show up fully and generously—as so many of you have—I’m inspired to do the same. And together, we’ve built something that feels reciprocal and real.
From our first author event on Inauguration Day to the recent launch of our store-sponsored book club, the sense of shared purpose in this little shop has been palpable. It reminds me daily that independent bookstores aren’t just places to buy books—they’re sanctuaries of connection and conversation, a sort of community hearth.
Of course, I’d be remiss not to acknowledge the backdrop against which we’re living all of this. As cozy as Port Townsend can feel, we know we don’t exist in a bubble. The political and economic headwinds of this country reach us all eventually, and for many they’ve already arrived. Families are living paycheck to paycheck. Essential programs—school lunches, SNAP, WIC, healthcare subsidies—are being gutted in the name of “fiscal responsibility,” while money flows elsewhere for the enrichment of the already powerful.
This hits close to home for me. I grew up in a household that relied on food stamps and WIC to get by. Without those programs—and the grace of local food banks—my siblings and I would not have made it. The thought of those lifelines being withdrawn now feels unconscionable.
It’s painful to watch so much cruelty masquerade as policy, and yet despair is a luxury we can’t afford. Because if history and literature teach us anything, it’s that when institutions fail us, community becomes the safety net. If there’s any silver lining to this unraveling, it’s the reminder that we are all we have—and that’s not nothing. Mutual aid, compassion, and solidarity are how we weather whatever storms come next.
Anyone who’s spent time in the shop this year might’ve noticed a single title that’s remained on my staff picks shelf since day one: The Fifth Sacred Thing by Starhawk. I first read it nearly twenty-five years ago, and it has never left me. It’s part prophecy, part manual for surviving dark times—offering a vision of how those committed to peace and justice might confront encroaching authoritarianism. There’s a blessing in that book that has always stayed with me:
“May you never hunger. May you never thirst.”
In the story, that phrase is extended even to those who once stood as adversaries—a radical act of hospitality and hope. It’s a reminder that the only sustainable way forward is through togetherness.
This, more than anything, is the spirit we want to cultivate here at Imprint: not just a bookstore, but a space for nourishment—of mind, imagination, and civic heart. Independent bookstores are essential not just to a vibrant community but to a functioning democracy. They are places where people feel seen and safe, but also invited to see through another’s eyes – where stories nurture resilience, where difference is met with curiosity, and where democracy itself is practiced in miniature through the simple act of gathering and discussing what we are reading together. Every time you buy a book from an indie instead of a billionaire’s website, you’re casting a quiet vote for empathy, for curiosity, for the kind of world you want to live in. Each purchase is a legitimate act of resistance—an affirmation that we still believe in the power of words, of ideas, of one another.
If this first year at Imprint has taught me anything, it’s that stories are how we survive. They help us make meaning out of the noise, remind us what matters, and reconnect us to the better angels of our nature when the world seems intent on forgetting them.
Each month, as we unpack boxes from our distributors, I’m reminded how many authors out there are also trying—through fiction, memoir, poetry, and essay—to steady us in uncertain times. They ask big questions, but they do so with tenderness and imagination, inviting us to lean in rather than turn away. We owe them an enormous debt of gratitude—the writers, dreamers, and truth-tellers whose life’s work makes the running of a little bookshop like ours even possible. As we head into the darker months, my wish for all of us is simple: that we keep tending the light—through kindness, through curiosity, through the stories that sustain us.
And so, as we mark this first anniversary, we’re also looking ahead. The truth is, our ambitions for Imprint have outgrown our square footage. We’ve been dreaming big about how to make this little space more functional and more conducive to the kinds of gatherings and offerings we know you want. And the sooner we are able diversify Imprint's offerings and fully realize its greater potential, the more we ensure its long-term sustainability and continued vitality in the years and decades to come.
Here’s a glimpse of what we envision making happen in our second year:
Opening the wall into the former Writers’ Workshoppe room to reintegrate that space—creating a whimsical, welcoming children’s area and a home for storytime gatherings.
Relocating the checkout counter to the front window so that booksellers are able to greet you the moment you arrive—and, frankly, enjoy a bit of natural light and a view of the water while working.
Upgrading shelving and displays to better showcase our growing inventory and allow each book a bit more breathing room.
Replacing the flooring and refreshing the paint, leaning into the Victorian history of the building and honoring the timeless beauty of this downtown space we’re lucky to inhabit.
To bring this vision to life, we’ll need to turn, once again, to community—the same spirit that’s sustained us all year long. We know times are tough. We know everyone is stretched. And yet, we also know the abundance that exists when people pool their creativity, generosity, and belief in something they love.
Think of it as an old-fashioned barn raising—but for your local bookshop. A chance to invest in something tangible, beautiful, and deeply rooted in this town’s cultural fabric. If you have ideas, resources, connections, or the means to contribute, we’d love to hear from you. We’re hoping to begin renovations in February, when things slow down a bit, and will do everything we can to minimize disruption to our daily operations.
As I look back over this first year, I feel a swirl of emotions—humility, exhaustion, pride, gratitude—but mostly awe. Awe at the way you’ve shown up. Awe that we get to do this work at all. Awe that even in such uncertain times, a little bookshop can feel like a beacon.
From the bottom of my heart—thank you for being part of this story.
Here’s to another year of good books, brave conversations, and small acts of beauty that ripple outward in ways we can’t always see but deeply feel.
With gratitude, John (& Garrett)
Imprint Bookshop
A regular customer browses the new book Always Remember: The Boy, the Mole, the Fox. the Horse and the Storm by Charlie Mackesy and finds something unexpected! Someone had left behind a sweet postcard with words of encouragement and inspiration for a perfect stranger.
Addressed with "If you found this, it was meant for you", these small acts of kindness towards strangers are exactly what we all need more of in troubled times like these. Heartfelt thanks to all the customers who sprinkle a little sunshine and joy wherever they go!
Upcoming bookshop events...
□ Join us in reading Signal Fires by Dani Shapiro for our last Imprint Book Club pick before the holidays.□
Just a few new releases for you to consider...
Ripples on the Cosmic Ocean: An Environmental History of Our Place in the Solar Systemby Dagomar Degroot
A sweeping, mind-expanding history that places Earth’s climate within the grand story of our solar system. Degroot invites us to see ourselves not apart from the cosmos but shaped by it—an ecological perspective as humbling as it is awe-inspiring.
The Way to a Beautiful Worldby James Norbury
From the creator of Big Panda and Tiny Dragon and The Dog Who Followed the Moon comes another tender parable for our times—an illustrated journey of kindness, courage, and the quiet work of building a more beautiful world, one small act at a time.
Always Remember: The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, the Horse and the Stormby Charles Mackesy
Mackesy returns to his beloved companions in this moving meditation on loss, love, and endurance. A book to keep close—gentle, honest, and full of the reminders we most need when the world feels heavy.
Tom’s Crossing: A Novelby Mark Z. Danielewski
The genre-defying author of House of Leaves returns with a haunting, kaleidoscopic novel about grief, transformation, and the strange ways stories carry us across time. Danielewski’s language is wild and hypnotic—a journey like no other.
Dead and Alive: Essaysby Zadie Smith
With wit and moral clarity, the author of White Teeth and The Fraud, Zadie Smith, reflects on art, power, and what it means to live awake in our present moment. These essays shimmer with intelligence and compassion, revealing the restless curiosity of one of our greatest living writers.
Sea Change: Unlikely Allies and a Success Story of Oceanic Proportions by James Workman & Amanda Leland
A rare story of hope in the face of ecological crisis, Sea Change chronicles how fishermen, scientists, and conservationists came together to restore life to depleted seas. It’s a powerful reminder that collaboration—not conflict—may be our greatest tool for planetary healing.
Love Rebels: How I Learned to Burn It Down
Without Burning Outby Kitty Stryker
Part memoir, part manifesto, Love Rebels is a fearless exploration of activism, boundaries, and self-preservation. Stryker writes with honesty and humor about learning to resist systems of harm while staying grounded in love—a timely guide for anyone fighting for change without losing themselves in the process.
A Poem to Leave On...
Praise What Comes by Jeanne Lohmann
Surprising as unplanned kisses, all you haven't deserved
of days and solitude, your body's immoderate good health
that lets you work in many kinds of weather. Praise
talk with just about anyone. And quiet intervals, books
that are your food and your hunger; nightfall and walks
before sleep. Praising these for practice, perhaps
you will come at last to praise grief and the wrongs
you never intended. At the end there may be no answers
