![]() Then Michael told me he’d had to close the bookstore. When I’d pictured what it would be like to publish a book, one of the things I’d imagined was having my book displayed in the window of Williams Corner. He congratulated me on my first novel, The Fires, which was about to be published. Many years later, after I’d moved to New York City, I got an unexpected phone call from Michael Williams, the owner of Williams Corner. I was just starting to become a writer then, and this store was a haven on both dark days and good ones, the place I often went to feel less lonely. I took note of the new books published that week and which author would be reading soon. When I was a starving graduate student in my early twenties, I went into the store twice a week, and walked past those windows nearly every day, on my way to my waitressing job a little farther down the mall. Its picture windows faced the cobblestone walkway, new books displayed behind the antique glass. In Charlottesville, Virginia, on the historic pedestrian mall, there once was a bookstore called Williams Corner. ![]()
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