The Bookseller

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This short story idea came to me on August 10th, 2022 while serving my mission in the Hyde Park area of London, England. Enjoy:

"The Book Seller"

He checked his watch uneasily and sweat pooled on his brow. It was already the evening and he hadn’t made a single sale. Around this time, in mid spring, Nate’s town would always hold an annual market sale, and for the first time in his adult life, Nate saved up enough money for a booth to sell his life’s works of written novels.

Nathan Jack was an armature book author working two other jobs to provide for his family; but deep inside him, he held on to a hope that he would one day be a world renowned author with archives of best selling books, that way, he wouldn’t have to spend so much time away from his wife and kids scraping up any cash that he could.

He looked at the other booths around him, why did they have so many people in them? The grounds were swarming with shopping folks, yet not a single one of his books had even caught a glance.

After much hesitation, Nate sighed and stood up halfheartedly, taking ahold of the clips and carabiner that held his little tent up. As he started loading them into a box, he couldn’t help but get a little emotional. He had put grueling hours and sleepless nights into building worlds and characters that no one would ever learn to love.

Just as a mist of tears filled his eyes, his depressive thoughts were interrupted by a soothing male voice. “Excuse me, my friend?” It said.

“Uh yes, yes hello, how can I help you?” Nate wiped his eyes before turning around.

He met eyes with an older man who seemed to be personified by his long grey beard, bald head, and circular wire-framed glasses. Thanks to his imagination and creativity, Nate pictured him as a classic mid-evil wizard ready to slay a dragon.

“Well I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t sold a single book,” the man said.

“H—How did you know?” Nate asked puzzled.

“Well, my friend, the methodical order in which your books are arranged is far too perfect for a crowd like this,” the man replied, pushing his glasses up.

Nate looked at him shamefully, “Is it that obvious?”

“Evidently,” the man said as he pulled out a briefcase and put it on the table that Nate stood behind. “But you’re in luck Mr.—?”

“N—Nate. Mr Nate,” Nate extended his hand for a handshake.

“You’re in luck Mr. Nate,” he finished, shaking Nate’s hand. “I am trying to break a world record my friend.”

“And what does that entail?” Nate asked.

“I am currently constructing a house just one mile from here, and it is completely made out of books. I was on my way to a book store in the main city, but it seems that what you have here should be perfect for me to finish the small section that I had underestimated,” the man smiled.

“I’m confused, you would like to buy some of my books to build a house? In hopes to break a world record?” Nate clarified.

“Precisely. And I would not like some of your books… I would like all of your books. Will this be enough?” The man opened his briefcase, revealing a about a thousand dollars in cash.

Nate flinched, he had never been offered such a thing before. Someone was willing to pay that much money for something that he wrote? But was it really worth it? He had always dreamed of making a name for himself and he also wanted his family to have sufficient for their needs, but above all, he wanted people to fall in love with the magic of his writings. If this man bought all his books, they would never be read, hidden in a world record as a building block.

He bit his lip and looked at his precious books. “I can’t do that. These are important to me,” he somehow managed to say.

“But you haven’t sold any yet, why would you turn me down?” the man objected.

“These books are my everything sir. I sell them to people who will spend time in them, not just throw them away… no offense.” Nate turned around and continued to take down his booth.

“None taken,” the man responded. He then took his glasses off and faced Nate fully. “Nathan Jack, well done. You have proven your devotion and passed a well-planned test.”

Nate turned around just in time to see the old man put on a well-worn pointy hat with thick brims. He smiled, nodded, and then in a strike of magical haze, he disappeared. A trail of colorful sparks buzzed around the small tent with mystic aura and illuminated everything within. A blue spell-like formation appeared on the outside of his booth with glowing letters; it read: “Do you believe in magic?”

“Woah!” some people gasped, pointing.

“Look look!” some kids hollered at each other.

Nate looked around in wondrous awe, the old man had done this, he truly did perform some sort of magic like Nate jokingly assumed that he could.

Nate shifted his gaze to the people staring at his booth pointing and commenting. They were actually interested in what was happening at his booth!

Tears filled his eyes, “will they actually be interested in what’s inside?” he thought to himself.

As if fate had heard his query, a little boy looked up at his books in absolute awe.

“Look Mommy, those books are alive!” he shouted, tugging on his mother’s skirt.

Nate glanced at his books and couldn’t help but let the smile form on his face.

-Cale Montoya (10/13/23)

As you can see, this short story is not particularly lengthy. In fact, I thought it would be fun, this time, to challenge myself to see just how much meaning and content I could fit in a 3 minute read. The challenge revolves around the concept that you really don't need so many words to portray a story.

As some of you may know, my life's dream is to become a book author. Unlike "Nathan Jack," the "world renowned" aspect is completely redundant to my goals, but the reader "falling in love with the content" is. Like I told you in my last post, everything I create has a little piece of me in it; in this specific story, it's not even hidden.

The main theme of this story is one that I've pondered about very often. The old man in the story offered a large sum of money to Nate so he could use his books as garbage basically. Being in love with the books I am currently writing, I often ask myself: "if this happened to me, would I want the money or would I wait for people to appreciate it?" The answer is obvious though because a book would cease to be a book if it wasn't read. The beauty of a book is the time it allots for the reader to imagine and pretend. This short story explains the depth of this concept.

The old man is also very symbolic of the fact that characters in books really can come alive. I tried my best to give the reader the idea that he really was a wizard and that though literal magic can exist, the magic of literature is more than real.

I hope you enjoyed! Tune in for more next week!

-Cale Montoya