Story’s ending yet to be written, but it’s a worthy tale so far

Dead Poet Books was still in shadows with only the light of a stormy Friday morning filtering through its front windows. Gina Haas worked in the half-light, shelving used hardbacks and preparing the store at 937 S. Rainbow Blvd. for another uncertain day of business.

Used bookstores are the coal-mine canaries of many communities. Because they operate on the slenderest of margins and struggle to turn a profit in the best of times, they are particularly sensitive to everything from employment slumps to changing traffic patterns. When they disappear, it is a minute economic indicator.

The Dead Poet is still alive, but its heart is palpitating as its owners, Linda and Richard Piediscalzi, attempt to keep its doors open in the face of rising rents, Internet competition, changing reading habits and cold economic realities.

No one gets into the trade expecting to get wealthy. Used bookstores aren't businesses so much as shrines devoted to the belief that words and stories matter. In my experience, their operators feel a connection to the stories and at some level seem to appreciate that books are not dead trees but living things with spirits of their own.

Of course, not everyone shares the Piediscalzis' near-religious devotion. Haas, a store employee for more than three years, is one who does. She spends many hours meticulously preparing the previously owned books for resale, cleaning them and shelving them and even listing them on Amazon.com.

Haas believes the store, with its vintage posters, deep purple walls, funky carpeting and occasional gatherings of poets, is a reflection of her friend Linda's character and soul. Piediscalzi, a cancer survivor, possesses the incandescent spirit of optimism shared by so many who have endured so much. When she heard my daughter, Amelia, had been diagnosed with cancer, Linda shaved her head in solidarity.

"She's just met so many phenomenal people, and she's touched so many people's lives through the store," Haas says.

As for Linda's spirit, Haas smiles and tells the story of the customer, a complete stranger, who was ready to check out. Linda looked at the customer and said, "How long have you been a survivor?"

"In two minutes, they were hugging," Haas recalls. "Linda has that light and recognizes it in others. She has so much compassion for others."

But, as they have learned, compassion doesn't pay the rent.

Dead Poet shelves thousands of books on everything from auto repair to zoology, but many thousands more remain boxed in storage. To properly display all their editions, they'd need a store half the size of the nearby Albertsons supermarket. And the rent on their current space is already ruining them.

Used bookstore denizens winced a few months ago when Albion Books was locked shut with its thousands of hardbacks held for ransom. Although many of the books were trucked to a local library, others were crammed into Dumpsters and hauled to the landfill.

"It would break her heart if these books were ever dumped and not given a home," Haas says.

Will the Dead Poet share Albion's awful fate?

Local representatives of Weingarten Realty appear to be willing to work with the Piediscalzis, but officials with the Houston-based parent company have stockholders to consider. Frankly, it's difficult for me to understand how the business center on Rainbow would be improved by closing the store.

The owners aren't standing still. They tried subletting part of their space to a fellow who specialized in dragon statues and metaphysics, but the arrangement lasted only a few weeks. They recently concluded a "30 percent off" sale and are exploring other ways to raise revenues.

Given the grim possibilities, do you reinvest your small windfall or cut your losses?

If you're in business, you pack up and move on. If you run a used bookstore, you dust the stock, pray to your God for relief and readers, and work to conjure customers despite the daunting odds.

Each day we hear a new report about the failing health of newspapers, the downward spiral of book publishing, and reading in general.

Publishers scramble to embrace new technologies from Web sites to e-books while cynics lament that the younger generation doesn't read like its elders.

Perhaps that's true. But I think used bookstores contribute to the character of a community in many ways not measured by accountants and corporate landlords.

Dead Poet Books is a living poem as long as it lasts.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.