The Riverside Bookshop
Today is clear and not too cold. Once again I spent part of the day waiting for a delivery. We’re in our new place, and it’s really coming together, save the unassembled Ikea bed that also doesn’t have a mattress yet. We’re sleeping in the guest room / office, which I’ve rearranged to feel less like a large open room and more like a cozy space.
Once the delivery arrived and I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time putting together what looked like a simple toilet paper holder, I went for a run. At like noon. I also found a great park that I know we’ll return to when the weather is better.
As has been happening lately, by around 3PM I start to get a bit antsy. I could read (and sometimes do). I could also write, but for the most part my brain just isn’t settled enough to do much writing beyond these little updates and my Cannonball Read reviews. So, as I sit in a cafe reading my Book Lovers’ London, I decide it is time to explore a bit. I only have about two hours before I have to figure out dinner, but I still want Ijeoma Oluo’s new book.
Off I go to The Riverside Bookshop. It’s right by the London Bridge rail station, tucked into a corner of a larger shopping area. I’m expecting something a bit bigger, but it is definitely a nice little place to browse.
I don’t see Ms. Oluo’s book out on display, but I see a similar one so figure I’ll ask the staff. Turns out, Ms. Oluo’s book won’t be available in the UK until February.
I don’t quite understand delayed releases of books (or films, for that matter – apparently neither Lady Bird nor I, Tonya are out in London cinemas yet) when the internet exists. I could order Ms. Oluo’s book from the US Amazon site and have it sent here; why not release it in London at the same time so I can give my business to the local shops?
Alas, I have to wait. But in the meantime I enjoy looking through the shelves. I nearly make the mistake of buying what looks to be a great book (A History of Britain in 21 Women), but I have the wherewithal to look up the author first. Turns out she holds some pretty unfortunate ideas about trans women. So back onto the shelf it goes.
Instead, I find The Good Immigrant, which is a collection of essays written by people of color who live in the UK. I figure I need to learn more about my new home, and this is another good place to look.
I probably won’t be coming back here often, but if I find myself in the area I’ll probably stop in.