Used Books in the Rabbit Room
I might as well tell you my dream for this place.
It has to do with what is possibly the greatest smell in the world. I find the musty odor of a bookstore–preferably a used bookstore–delightful. It is to me the smell of adventure; it’s the aroma of mystery and knowledge; it stirs in me a boyish wonder that renders the world around me in richer hues, the hours of the day suddenly fraught with possibility and romance. It helps me to believe that that storytelling Jesus just might be more alive and real than I ever dreamed.
That sounds overly dramatic, I realize, but it’s a weak attempt to explain what stories do to me. I get a similar feeling when the lights go dark in the movie theater, or when the children laugh at the marionette show at the library, or when I utter the first words to the first song in a concert. It happens when I savor the first few pages of a new book–first the cover, then the title page, the prologue or introduction, and finally the thrill of the first two words of pretty much every tale: Chapter One.
I love chapter one.
Before the Rabbit Room ever became a website, I built in my imagination a stone-brick cottage with a red round-topped door. A shingle hung above the door bearing a picture of a bespectacled rabbit with a pipe dangling from his mouth. The sign read,
THE RABBIT ROOM
and beneath it,
BOOKSTORE AND TAVERN.
When you pushed open the red door and walked in, that smell I was telling you about would wash over you and you’d see rows and rows of books, a fire burning in the hearth, people at tables sipping cider or coffee. Maybe an author or songwriter is sitting in the corner by the window teaching about creativity and Christ, about changing the world with light, love, and music infused with the Gospel.
Beyond the aisles of books you’d come upon a smaller doorway, small enough that a grownup would have to stoop to pass through–a reminder that you must grow young to enter the Kingdom–and you would find yourself in a room full of children’s books. Someone in a rocking chair is reading to a circle of boys and girls about King David and Mephibosheth, or Lucy and Eustace, or Hazel and Fiver on Watership Down. The children sit on the floor beneath the bowers of a tree that seems to grow out of the walls and into the ceiling.
Down the hall are private rooms where people are alone with their thoughts, writing, drawing, excavating the final lyric to a song; all of them are stoking a holy fire that they hope will give someone hope in their darkness, even if that someone is them.
That’s my vision for the Rabbit Room. If you build it, they will come.
But I’m not a rich man, and I don’t know how to build that building. I figured I’d start the discussion here, let it grow organically into what the Lord wants it to be. Maybe he means for the round-topped door to be dark green. I’m fine with that.
Until that zillionaire tracks me down, though, the RabbitRoom.com is the next-best-thing. Hundreds and hundreds of people every day have been coming here to read, to discuss, to support writers and artists who are committed to using their gifts to proclaim freedom to the captives.
I say all that to say this: we’re now selling used books. Since I haunt used bookstores anyway, I’m going to keep an eye out for the titles we recommend here, along with other books that we think you’ll love. I just found a few copies of Gilead, Mere Christianity, and Peace Like a River, all books that come highly recommended by the Rabbit Room contributors.
If you happen to find any used copies of the titles we’ve talked about here and want to donate them to the Rabbit Room, send an email to rabbitroomstore@gmail.com and we’ll figure out how to get the books and give you a free download in return.
Like I said, I’m making this up as I go, so we’ll see how it works.
Thanks for stopping in.
Don’t bump your head on the way out.
AP
So I was having a bad day. I woke up, for no apparent reason, at 5:30 in the morning, and my brain was already two hours ahead of my body. It was the kind of day that usually lands me in front of the mirror with a mental baseball bat. But on this day, I did not have the wisdom to walk away in defense. Instead, I moved in closer for a beat down. My arms would not reach up to fight, but remained stubbornly, helplessly at my sides. My face, totally unprotected from the oncoming head blow, narrowly dodged clear at the very last second, and I closed my eyes in relief. A minute or two passed and I gained strength enough to push away from the glass and head for the safety of my computer. I put my head down and got to work, hoping to shake off the shadows, but an hour later I found myself crying through the proofread because I hated every single letter on the screen.
Here is a small excerpt from John Piper’s excellent book Don’t Waste Your Life (which you can read here for free, or buy here for a pittance) wherein he expresses thankfulness for Clive Staples Lewis and details some of the ways he has cleared a path for us all. I’ll only add that I vigorously concur, and that JP is among the very few men who rank with CSL for impact in my own life. -sam
Heaven knows why it has taken me so long to write a little something about this album, the newest EP from friend and soul sister, Julie Lee. Julie and I met several years ago at a friend’s house and found immediate ease in conversation and a unique connection; sparks of light and magic hung lightly in the air around our collision. It was one of those instances where you know for sure that the God of the Universe meant for you to meet this one particular human being out of the millions that He created. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but I like drama (the good kind only, please) and am grateful when I find it happening in my little life.
Browsing the shelves of wicked-cool used bookstore here in Nashville, McKay Books, I happened upon Kathleen Norris’s (The Cloister Walk, Dakota, Amazing Grace) latest, Acedia & Me. Though I had no idea she had a new book out, the cheap sticker price for a primo first edition (Note: you will recall from a previous post that I have a more than slight affinity for used bookstores and, especially, first editions) was an easy decision. The title itself was mildly intriguing since I was vaguely familiar with the word, “acedia”, but of which I knew very little. The subtitle, “A Marriage, Monks, and A Writer’s Life”, though hardly an enticing, round-em-up, gather-em-in slogan, is true to Ms. Norris’ midwestern style, neither flamboyant nor melodramatic.
I’ve been hearing about this children’s Bible called The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones for a year or so now, first from Ben Shive, then from a smattering of others whose opinions I respect on such matters. One night last week Jamie and I were putting our sweet Skye to bed (she’s 6 now), and we were talking to her about Christmas. I’d been gearing up to leave for tour and with the first Sunday of Advent fast approaching we wanted to find out what she thought. Jamie asked her who was born on Christmas morning, and Skye answered, “Um…Noah?”
Russ Bremeier at Christianity Today:
Is there a qualitative difference between learning a song from your Grandfather and downloading a song from iTunes, from getting a recipe online and pulling out the yellowing paper of an old, family recipe? Ken Myers answers in the affirmative, channeling C.S. Lewis when he discusses the need for thoughtful Christians to consider not only content in what we appreciate in art, but also how we receive it.
The other night my wife and I had the opportunity to see Charlie Peacock in concert. The Art*Music*Justice tour, featuring Sarah Groves, Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Brandon Heath and Charlie, had an off day in Kansas City. So Charlie set up a house show with just him and his piano in the upstairs art gallery of the world’s most perfect Christian bookstore, Signs of Life, in downtown Lawrence, Kansas. (No kidding. Not a Scripture mint to be found, but huge sections on art, history, classics and local writers. There’s one wall devoted to the puritans, and another to Walker Percy, Flannery O’Connor and the like. Dangerous.)
Mystery. Intrigue. Drugs, dark secrets, the decay of the will, and the transforming power of God’s love sown by a single man to a harvest of redemption.
My favorite book I’ve read this year was initially only a curiosity piece I perused while killing time in a Barnes & Noble. I had recently bought Unchristian – a book that offers an insightful look at how outsiders of the faith view the church – by David Kinnaman & Gabe Lyons, but decided I needed a mental break and started looking for something a little lighter. I’m not inclined to reach for humor books, but the cover of a book featuring a man dressed in Old Testament garb and looking earnestly heavenward with the ten commandments in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other proved irresistible. I picked it up, thumbed through the pages and found myself laughing out loud in the aisle at Barnes & Noble – another uncharacteristic behavior for me.
The Yellow Leaves: A Miscellany, the new book from my favorite author, Frederick Buechner, was released on June 16th. I added it to my Amazon shopping cart when I first heard about it from the Proprietor and Eric Peters, after they heard Buechner read a couple excerpts during the grand opening of the Frederick Buechner Institute back in January (which also featured a concert by Michael Card, with AP opening for him).
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
The musical bumper sticker on my car during the ol’ college years would have definitely read “I’d Rather Be Listening To Acoustic Music.” Therein was my initial foray into the early careers of Square Peg artists like our own Proprietor. I found great enjoyment in the Texan college worship scene (early Crowder, Robbie Seay, Justin Barnard, anyone?). And the great unknown (acoustic) rock over which I stumbled came in the form of Jill Phillips.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Andy Gullahorn is funny, but he’s also one of the more serious lyricists I’ve come to enjoy in a while. Listening to Reinventing the Wheel, you come to understand that he is more than a good songwriter. He is a craftsman. He knows what he’s doing, where he’s going, and where he’s taking his hearers.But as I said, people say Andy Gullahorn is funny. They say that, I think, because he makes them laugh. But as for me, I’m calling it nervous laughter.
This is perfect. The Rabbit Room has become a haven to me in the couple of months that I’ve been stopping in every day.
I’m in.
I’m so in.
I’ll be extra-vigilant for well-loved good books.
What fun!
I love it! This is a tremendously cool idea Andy! I’m looking forward to being a regular customer.
you have got me all misty eyed. oh how i miss the smell of a great library! the silence as i read! I’ll bring the coffee if you bring the room!
What has been created here in this Rabbit Room has been my safe harbour for the few months I have been reading. However, in a few minutes I am off to a local lumberyard to find that perfect piece of lumber for the sign.
What about a book sharing program? If you donate a book from the recommended list you can receive another book from the recommended list? Or you can just purchase a book outright. Just a thought.
If I ever win the lottery, I will build your room. Until then, I’m glad to help build this one.
Or what if you received Rabbit Room Store credit for donated books?
great idea. love the whole post by the way.
Definitely something with store credit or a book for a book! Great ideas! Wow this is gonna be sweet!
Brilliant… you can bet when I am back in the states in the summer, I will be purchasing a boatload of Rabbit Room used books… or maybe getting a list of books and hunting through the used book stores in Cbus. Also, google Kaldi’s Coffee House and Over the Rhine to check out a cool place in Cinci that is a similar idea, though maybe not so Christ-centered.
Nice idea. I just spent about 10 hours yesterday moving stuff we had in storage into the shed at our new place. And, to be honest, about 80% of it was books and bookshelves! We plan on going through each box, one at a time, but I just can’t throw away a book. But, I could give several of them away to the RR as long as I knew they’d be read and appreciated. Maybe I’ll make a list when we inventory them and send it along. A lot more of it is theological than narrative, but perhaps there’s an audience for that kind of material here?
i crave good books…being an English major and all, but i must admit that my medical education has all but ruined my ability to read much (really only about a book a month). so i am delighted by what you suggest, the community you have built here, and the suggestions on stuff to read (i have never heard of many of the “best books of 2007″ mentioned). thanks, from a fellow believer in parables!
Thanks, AP, for sharing the vision.
I’ve hung out in one of those rooms down the hall lately, gratefully. My dad passed away just before Christmas, and I spent several days of my bereavement leave “Waking Mark McCoy” with you all here, and listening to my AP smart playlist.
Thanks again. Daddy would have loved The Rabbit Room, too.
PS. And if you haven’t seen Waking Ned Devine, you really should.
I’m still trying to make it fit Pete’s earlier theolovision post….
I am glad someone else loves that smell! What a great post! Thanks for sharing.
I’m stuck in the valley in a snowstorm tonight and can’t leave the office. The Rabbit Room is a great place to be if I can’t be home putting the kids to bed. The smell of used books was one of the things that helped to bring my group of c losest friends together in college. There were planty of early Saturday mornings that we would sit up in a big live oak and read together and learn from each other. My wife and I spent a fair part of our first year of marriage reading our favorite books to each other. Thanks for helping to recreate some of those feelings. And thanks for helping me to learn. I’m a rabid reader but not a particularly great thinker. The RR, AP, Gullahorn, and all the posters and commenters. Thanks.
If that cottage were real I’d spend an inordinate portion of my waking hours haunting its insides.
Love the smell of books.
If the door must be dark green, put a brass knob right in the middle.
If it did physically exist, where would we put it? Would the location be secret and known to only a few for fear of people who strive to ruin good things, or would it be an open place where people of all beliefs and creeds could meet and talk?
Seems that most people here are hopeless romantics for fairy tales and fantastic stories. I consider it a good thing.
How’s a Rabbit Room Book Club feel to any of you out there?
I’m sure some great discussions would result as we crack open those musty, worn, (or new) books together.
It would be interesting to take the journey with friends.
And what book would we start with?
Rabbit Room sure is cozy. Thanks to all!
Andrew, I so agree with you about loving books, especially OLD books. There is just something cool about the way they look on your shelf.
I will definitely be checking out the used books here on the site from time to time.
I appreciate your insights and for sharing your ideas. The Rabbit Room is fast becoming a favorite site.
Andie
Dude, I am digging this! I want in! I love the idea. It is winter here in MI and I can totally see reading good books by a fire with Andrew Peterson and friends from the RR! Thanks for the dream!
Well, in my little feeble brain this sounds a lot like heaven. If it could be nestled on the peak of a mountain so the wilderness of the mind could retreat to the outdoors every now and again, I definitely think it would be pretty close to heaven.
Hey Andrew, I emailed rabbitroomstore@gmail.com but never heard back. I could just be impatient though! I’m getting ready to move, and this will be a perfect time for me to sort through all of the multiple copies of my favorite books that I buy “just in case” and send some to the Rabbit Room. But, of course, maybe you all are still working out the details. Thanks!
I loved this piece. I can’t stop smelling the aroma of the pages. Musty, yes, but remembered by me simply as the scent of books.. of adventure. I used to love visiting the library as a child for just that smell. I would spend hours wandering up and down aisles trying to select the perfect book to read. Somehow I always felt lead to “the one”. Seldom was I disappointed. Ahh, spending leisurely Sunday afternoons drifting through the pages as I explored the rabbit hole with Alice. Thank you for the nostalgic visit.