This post was originally published at Novelicious.com and is now at WritingTipsOasis.com. WritingTipsOasis.com acquired Novelicious.com in June 2022.
‘How did it feel,’ I ask. ‘To stand on the doorstep on Number 10, Downing Street?’
‘Exciting,’ says Frances Smith. ‘Fantastic.’
Frances and husband Keith own ‘Warwick Books’ and ‘Kenilworth Books’, and are famous for championing the causes of indie booksellers. They are fearless in the face of bureaucracy, and recently marched on Number 10, flanked by Margaret Hodge and MP for Warwickshire, Chris White.
They are campaigning for a fairer marketplace for independent traders, and collected over 170,000 signatures for the petition they presented to government.
I’m invited to visit their Kenilworth shop, and I eventually find it in a pedestrian square partially hidden by vast ply-wood hoardings. Apparently, there’s about to be a car park put in. ‘The pedestrian exit,’ Frances says. ‘Will be right opposite our door.’
‘Good?’ I say, cautiously.
‘Good,’ agrees Frances. ‘Much better than the big units the landlord had planned. It’s to have a little green hedge round, and there’ll be flowers –’ We both look out at the bleak square, at the rude wooden wall yards from Frances’ shop.
Frances smiles, seeing the future. ‘It’s going to be very good.’
A breathless woman in a brown skirt and flat shoes runs in, desperate to buy a gift-card. Frances serves her at top-speed, her movements deft, then she’s laughing and waving goodbye as the woman hurtles back out, calling her thanks.
I imagine it must take a lot to panic Frances into clumsiness. She has a neat blonde bob and an aura of intelligent self-possession – I’m not surprised celebrities such as Stephen Fry supported her and Keith’s tax campaign.
We start talking about customers, and what the people of Kenilworth buy. ‘History,’ I’m told. ‘Local history. Particularly for people who used to live here, or as souvenirs for exchange students.’
Frances tells me of one her regular customers, a blind academic. ‘In a book shop?’ I say, stupidly. Frances explains that there’s now software to read any book aloud, and her enthusiasm for explaining it takes away my embarrassment of being so ignorant.
‘Do you serve many academics?’ I ask, thinking of the proximity of two good universities.
‘Well, yes,’ says Frances. ‘But we sell a lot of fiction, too. We work with local book groups (and offer discounts), and then there’s the children’s books.’
The children’s section takes up almost a third of the shop, and there’s a little table and a brightly coloured rug. Frances sometimes holds readings, but also visits schools, and recently accompanied ace children’s author Chris Bradford on a school visit. ‘He was amazing,’ Frances tells me, face lit up at the memory.
A customer comes up to the till, and I wander off, trying to look as if I’m not eavesdropping. It’s a glossy dark-haired lady with a Northern Irish accent, and they talk about Patrick Fermor, who apparently was a brilliant travel writer. I linger by a rack of cards to hear more, and decide I’d also like to buy a book by a man billed as a cross between Graham Greene and Indiana Jones.
Frances tells me later that this is one of the most important parts of her job – talking to customers about books. They don’t just want advice on what to buy, they also want to talk about authors, lives, recipes, stories: they want to share passions.
The glossy lady leaves, saying she’ll be popping into the Warwick shop (run by Frances’ husband, Keith) very soon.
‘Does it make your shops stronger,’ I ask. ‘Having two?’
‘Yes, mostly. Helps when we’re doing events – talks and signings with authors. And of course, we have more purchasing power. Our website looks better, too. The downside is losing our small-business rates.’ Frances grins at me, over her counter. ‘According to the council,’ she says, ‘Kenilworth and Warwickshire Books are big business.’ I can see that the thought delights her.
It makes me think of a line written on Keith and Frances’ website, in a chatty up-date letter. ‘Although we are doing as well as anybody, in truth at the moment ALL bricks and mortar operations are struggling, not just bookshops.’
The big difference though, I should think, between Keith and Frances and ‘anybody’, is the refusal to give in, to give up. And Keith and Frances aren’t just fighting and striving and grafting for themselves, they’re campaigning for equality on behalf of all independent shops.
Frances’ shop is growing busy now, and I thank her for her time. As I leave, I look again at the wooden hoardings, and I imagine the new car park with the outpouring of foot-traffic and the little green hedge.
A vision, understanding and cause for hope, that I’d never have had, until I met Frances.
Best wishes to you both.