Green Dragon Books: 2 of 30
Monday, Nov. 2, 2026
Green Dragon Books is cozy but not small, exactly. We’re in the bottom floor and basement of a three-story building sandwiched between a barbershop and a bar downtown. The top two floors of are “lofts” — fancy developer speak for “overpriced apartments.” I live in one above the bookstore; you can’t beat the commute, even if the walls are a depressing hue of millennial beige.
The exterior of the building is red brick, with oak and beech trees providing shade for the sidewalk. Two big windows and my green-and-white sign frame a wooden door darkened with years of varnish and age. Walk through that door and you’ll be welcomed in by the smell of books and coffee. The front portion of the store is bright and well-organized: the latest Book-Tok hits are artfully displayed, covers up, on two tables and a series of shelves framing the entrance. The counter and stool are to the left as you come in, and the windows themselves feature cushioned seats where you can curl up with a new purchase.
You might have to evict one of the two store cats, though. Tabitha is an ancient brown tabby (get it?) who I never see move but somehow cycles between half a dozen nap spots throughout the store and empties her food bowl every day. Hobbes is properly orange, feisty and eager to participate in all bookshop activities, from stocking shelves to checking out customers, despite offering no substantive assistance.
Beyond the entrance area is the reading nook, a comfy couch and a few tables and chairs surrounded on all four sides by shelves. I don’t sell drinks or food, but you can get free coffee or tea at the coffee station. Occasionally I have to evict a college student or remote worker who takes too much advantage of the space and caffeine, but for the most part everyone is cool. In one corner of the space are a couple overstuffed chairs and a chessboard where a few regulars duke it out. I’m always glad to get a game or two in on slow days.
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Beyond the reading area is a hallway (also full of books) that leads to the stacks: row upon row of used books. I do my best to keep that area bright and cheerful, but it has a way of descending into a state of dusty decreptitude. So it goes. The books are, at least, organized by genre (this can be more difficult than it sounds. I once argued for 37 minutes with a man who insisted that Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch” was genre fiction, not literature, and belonged in the Crime-Thriller section). Literature and popular fiction in the front, then fantasy and science fiction (two different genres that have no business getting shelved together), mysteries/detective fiction/crime, thrillers, romance, westerns, poetry, classics and children’s books. Non-fiction includes history of all shapes and sizes, religion, philosophy, biography, politics, social sciences, sports and a wide array of everything from cookbooks to a tome about different kinds of windows in the ancient world.
The Stacks are the part of the store I understand the least. It probably comes from reading too much C.S. Lewis and Elizabeth Enright as a child, but I swear that the Stacks can change form. From time to time, after I’m done shelving a new shipment, I make a wrong turn somehow and stumble upon a section I don’t remember. The books are vaguely familiar, but there’s a piece of furniture I’ve never seen before or a window that looks out into a different alley. The first time this happened, I was truly alarmed. But I’ve learned to just take a deep breath, browse a few book titles and calmly return to the store when it feels right to do so.
I sometimes worry that my customers will get trapped back there, but I haven’t lost one yet. Still, next time you visit, it’s worth being careful in the Stacks.
Behind the Stacks is a storage room with a roll-up door that leads to the alley, which is where I accept large shipments of books or unload my findings from estate and garage sales. There’s also a flight of stairs that lead up to my apartment and down into the basement. The basement is nondescript — unfinished, small, full of mop handles and discarded cardboard boxes. I don’t spend much time down there.
Anyway, time to get a pot of coffee brewing, flip the “Open” sign on and try to get some reading of my own done before the first customer of the day. See you tomorrow!
