Barnes & Noble

When I first moved to Austin, one of the must-see places on my list was the Barnes & Noble in Arboretum. I've been a sucker for bookstores ever since I learned to read, and such a big one was a major attraction. When I saw it first, I knew immediately what part of Austin I wanted to live in forever and ever. So, two years later, when I graduated from grad school, and it came time for me to select a place to stay in which did not need to be within 1 mile of Taylor Hall, the Computer Sciences building in the University of Texas at Austin campus, I of course decided on Arboretum. Now I'd be close to my beloved bookstore.
I was slightly worried about the novelty wearing off -- that since I lived so close to Barnes & Noble now, I wouldn't want to visit it as much. I needn't have worried. I spend more of my waking hours there than I do in my own home, and the staff there knows me by sight. If anything, I think I go there a little too much. I know every crack in the wall, every spot on the carpet -- and pretty much the location of every genre of books. I think I could write an encyclopedia on the geography of Barnes & Noble Arboretum now. I can navigate the store blindfolded.
It's a wonderful store to go to. It resembles a library more than a bookstore. Tall stacks of books are neatly arranged all around the store, with people silently browsing through them. I know it's okay to talk on the phone, but I feel like a criminal, the library sense prevails so strongly. I don't have a specific favorite section, though I tend to mostly be in the manga section, or the mystery section.
When you enter, to the right is what I call the "oldies" section -- full of reference books, from the commonplace to the arcane, from the ordinary to the esoteric, from art to computer science to cooking and beyond. I love the travel section, and ever since I've booked tickets to visit Dunedin, New Zealand later this year, I've been regularly haunting the travel section. But my favorite section, by far, is the one on the left.
The left side of the store contains the entire fiction section -- my favorite. I don't really care what kind of fiction it is, I love to read it (except romance -- I hate romantic novels). It could be as gentle as Jane Austen, or as adrenaline-pumping as Matt Reilly, I read it all. My favorite genre is probably mystery, though, for I can resist anything but I can't resist a good whodunit. (That's followed closely by spy thrillers -- I love spy thrillers).
The literature section lies to the far left of the store, and is the section where most books are found. A few (like mystery or science fiction) are in their own specified section, which lies to the edge of the store, close to the window. Running at an angle to all these sections, and parallel to the window, is one of my favorite sections in the store -- Japanese manga. I can race through a manga in less an 30 minutes, even if I take time to savor the gorgeous drawings.
Upstairs is another reference section -- it is actually this section that contains the art books. I'd know, because for two years I stared at them with silent longing, but without the money to buy them. There are fantastic books on painting landscapes in watercolors, on developing your own manga characters, on layering shades in oil paintings to give them a "glow", on using various acrylic techniques.
To the right of this section is the DVD section, as I call it -- it contains an impressive array of CDs and DVDs. I haven't been there much, though, for I just watch all my movies online and not from a DVD.
On the lower level, right at the back of the store is the children's section. Bright and colorful, it contains a lot many books that I love to read even now -- every now and then I get tired of reading "adult" novels and revert to all that is magical and fantastical, and just a break from the grimness of "real" novels, and back into the wonderful world of children's fiction. I love children's books (maybe that's why the only book I've ever written was a children's book), and even though I feel faintly embarassed to be going into the children's section at the old age of 24, I do it anyway. Besides, most people seem to think I'm a teenager, so it's not too bad!
There's usually a lot of people at Barnes & Noble, but I like it best when there's no one around. Well -- that's not very common -- but even if the store is relatively empty, I love it. I love having an entire section to myself, feeling the soft soundtrack played in the store melt into my consciousness, and feeling like I'm the only one there. I like to curl up in a corner, picking up a volume of Trinity Blood or Black Cat and lose myself in the plot. Even better, I like it if I can lose myself in a new mystery novel, though there aren't too many left in the store that I haven't read, unfortunately. I'll always remember a day, last year, during the summer when it rained so much. It was raining hard outside, and the skies were dark and grey. There was hardly anybody in the store, and I felt myself losing myself in the feeling that I was the only person left in the world. It felt comforting, as I slipped into a comfortable slouch on the floor, curled up with a Dick Francis novel. I love Dick Francis novels, they combine mystery with British horseracing, and I could just feel myself immerse in the world of rich owners, cruel trainers and hapless jockeys. Meanwhile, it was getting darker and darker outside, and thunder growled in the distance. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of lightning, startling me, followed by a roar of thunder. Water lashed against the glass windows, and visibility outside was obliterated. It really felt like I was the only one in the world. I loved it.
Yes, indeed, no matter how many times I visit Barnes & Noble, it will remain my favorite bookstore. And for some reason, no other bookstore appeals to me quite as much, not even Borders which is at least as extensive -- or even another Barnes & Noble, such as the one I visited in Denver. No, this one has become my second home, and nothing can quite measure up to it. The staff knows me too, but now -- including the funny cashier who calls me "little troublemaker", but is always delighted to see me, his booming laughter echoing through the store. I love Barnes & Noble.