The used bookstore as a form is disappearing and we should mourn it. Not the category — there are still used bookstores — but the specific kind of used bookstore that was also a place and a community and a slightly eccentric cultural institution.

What made those stores great was curation plus chaos. Somebody had decided what was worth keeping and had organized it according to a system that made sense if you understood it, which you could learn over time. There was always a section labeled something like 'Staff Picks' or 'Owner's Obsessions' that revealed a person.

I have a standing policy: when I travel to a city, I find the independent used bookstore and spend at least an hour. Sometimes I buy nothing. Sometimes I spend sixty dollars on things I didn't know I needed. Both outcomes feel correct.