Let’s Hear it for the Hometowns

If you’re like me, you’re lucky enough to come from a hometown that fills you up—where the roots run deep and the love runs deeper. It’s the kind of place not many people leave, and the kind that never really leaves you. A place that welcomes you back without question, and in my case, proudly puts your book on its shelves.

If you’re an indie author, you know what a big deal this is. I’m almost willing to give up my firstborn for some shelf space in these bookshops. JK, Stevie. 

Self-publishing is exhausting, definitely not for the faint of heart. Admittedly, I knew this going in, so it’s fine. I mean, sure. But, yikes. 

And then…what even is TikTok? I cannot for the life of me understand why some videos go viral. I watch a twenty-something type on her laptop with a vaguely existential question floating in Comic Sans, and somehow it gets 400K views. Meanwhile, I’m out here filming golden sunsets and enchanted forests, contorting my 40-year-old body to capture just the right shimmer on a stream—and my top video? 968 views. Total.

But then something like this happens: your hometown bookstore says yes. They make room for you on the shelf. And suddenly, none of the algorithms matter. You remember why you started. And you’re reminded—again and again—that the truest kind of support is the kind that’s rooted in home. River Bend Books on Main Street in Glastonbury, CT… thank you.

Let’s hear it for the hometowns.