JULIET
My first day at Moonbeam Books starts with a tour. The shelves have been set up to create cozy nooks, so that every time you turn a corner, it feels like a discovery. In a way, it reminds me of a garden, where you never know what kind of plant or fountain you might stumble upon. There are regular overhead lights, of course, but also the twinkle lights strung all over the place, creating an ethereal glow. It would be easy to lose yourself in the magic of this place.
The store is loosely divided in half, with non-fiction like history, gardening, health, cookbooks, and art on the left, alongside children’s books. The right half of the store is bursting with literary fiction, romance, fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Poetry, self-help, religion, and educational books are near the checkout counter, and in the back corner are mythology, fairy tales and fables, and short stories.
I make a mental map.
“Okay, I think I have the general layout in my head,” I tell Spenser.
“Great,” he says. “But that’s the easy part. Now we focus on shelving.”
At first glance, the shelving looks fairly straightforward: fiction is organized by genre and sub-genre, and alphabetized by author. Non-fiction follows the same general pattern, organized by subject. But upon closer inspection, I find things are more complicated than they seem.
“Our system is based on three factors,” Spenser explains. “Genre is the first, of course, like any bookstore. But you have to remember, this store isn’t just for humans. We have to factor that in. So beyond genre, we also categorize by texture and scent, because many of our customers utilize smell and feel as much as by sight.”
“Okay,” I say. “I think that makes sense.”
“Take Contemporary Romance,” he says, walking to the section. He points to a dark shelf with books that tend to lean red, pink, and purple.
“Here, we have hardback books with embossed covers, because they provide tactile feedback for customers who prefer raised textures.” He pulls out a book called ‘Festival Flirtations’ with an illustrated band on the cover and hands it to me. “You can feel that, right?”
I nod, running my finger over the raised title, and he keeps going. “Both hardbacks and paperbacks with smooth covers are here”—he gestures to a shelf—“while the contemp romance books with floral scents like rose and lavender are one shelf over. Those tend to be favorites for our fae and nature-oriented customers. There are other species who prefer darker aromas, so those are shelved separately from the floral ones.”
“So…the same book could appear on multiple shelves depending on which versions we have?”
Spenser nods, leaning against the walnut bookshelf. “Yes, assuming it’s something we have multiple copies of. For example, I know we have two copies of ‘The Boss Games’ in stock. One is here in the scent section because it has a soft bergamot aroma, and the other is over with textures because the hardcover is embossed. Not every section is this complicated, though. Romance is one of our biggest sellers. Non-fiction tends to be simpler.”
I stare at the shelves, trying to organize all the information in my brain. “How do customers know which copy to get?”
Spenser grins. “That’s the best part. They either know what they want when they come in, or they wander around until they find whatever appeals to their senses. Which includes the human customers. It turns out they often have a preference, even if it’s something as simple as color or paperback versus hardback.”
I absently twirl a strand of hair, filing all this in my head. “It makes sense, at least theoretically. I guess as I shelve new stock, I’ll get the hang of it.”
“I have no doubt you will,” he says warmly, his antennae fluttering slightly. “Like anything, it just takes a little practice.”
Once he finishes showing me around, we head to the register so I can learn the system. Luckily, it’s very simple and intuitive.
“Okay, this is much easier than the shelving method,” I tell him.
“Yep. Just scan, hit this button here, and then take the payment via the terminal. It will ask the customer to choose their receipt method, and if they want a printed one, the computer will generate it automatically. Books go into one of our paper bags with a Moonbeam Books bookmark included. That’s all there is to it.”
A pretty, petite blonde who seems vaguely familiar approaches the checkout counter and gently places two books down.
“Hey, Ellie,” Spenser says. “Find everything you were after today?”
She nods and pulls out a debit card, waiting as he demonstrates everything he just
explained to ring up the pair of romance novels. She pays, thanks us in a quiet voice, and hurries out of the store.
“One of my best customers,” Spenser remarks as the door closes behind her.
From here, I can see not only the front door, but also a handful of display tables, the poetry and gift sections, and the kids’ books. It’s a pretty decent vantage point, so I can see why Spenser chose to put the checkout here.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to see the black cat from the first day sitting on a shelf next to a “New and Recent Releases” display. She’s staring at me, flicking her tail back and forth in a lazy arc.
“Hey, kitty,” I say.
She blinks at me.
