In construction, projected 01/2027 completion.
: Shop.
: Our Mission.
: Newsletter.
: Contact Us.

Growing up down the road from a small bookstore, Flynns Books, I would often walk down to the store to browse and spend whatever change I collected from my fathers folgers coffee tins where he attempted to save his loose change. His efforts were in vain because I was quick to empty him out of any Quarters, dimes or nickles to walk down to this quaint, but vast bookstore run by who I estimated then to be an 80 year old woman (though I was a kid and my ability to correctly identify a persons age beyond 18, was pitiful and offensive, the odds of me guessing right let alone in the correct ballpark, playing the correct ball oriented game, were aganst me more than the casino) And I would fake sick from school and walk the quarter mile from my home to break the monotony of binge watching Jerry Springer, or Maury, or Dawson's Creek, the type of garbage daytime TV played, I suspected, to discourage kids like me from playing hookie. But upon arriving a Flynn's, I would always enter in sync with the bell chiming above my head, announcing my arrival, and never had I not turned my head 40 degrees to my left before I spotted the old, gray, and always happy to talk, older woman, who either would sit and read or sit and watch the wheel of fortune, but always sitting, behind the counter, with a little 10in. by 4.5in box TV set, adorned with a bigger attenna then the TV it sat upon. While she'd make small talk, occasionally suggesting books I may enjoy, or telling me about her cats who would often roam the store for her entire shift, before she'd return to the book that has her attention this particular day, and I'd be off to browse the sci-fi, horror, and young adults sections while I killed an hour looking for either goosebumps or something by Steven King, despite how intimidating the size of his books would make me, I often would buy them with plans to read when I entered 8th grade. Then me and her would resume our conversation while she would ring me up, and she'd count my coins, before sending me on my way, back home to pretend to be too sick to leave bed.
This was a pivotal moment for me, where I realized how badly I wanted what she had, just surrounded by the smell of old books, and isles of knowledge and stories that allowed my imagination to run wild, I wanted to be a cartoonist, but realistically I knew I wasn't good enough at art, so booksales met all the check boxes when I would consider who I actually saw myself being when I grew up, and could work a job, I saw a bearded, taller version of myself, "do you need any help?", running 'Flynns Bookstore' or "The Dust Jacket" till I became a frail bag of bones. And those dreams may seem dull to some, but they were comfort combined with a considerable intrest in books of all kinds, I wanted to read everybook there was to read, I saw me in every book, every story, every character, no matter their gender, I could relate and books were my first inanimate love, and I realize I should prefrence, my last as well. I had dreams that the novel was the center of them each, one day write a bestseller, one day sign that same book at my own store. But despite the level of consistent planning, the dream was one built with faulty pipes, and only more unattainable did the day in which "I will own my own store" become a big risk with no guarentee of staying in buisness, as I was faced with the reality of high rent, living paycheck to paycheck to keep my own lights on, let alone the lights of my buisness and the lights at my home. But surely, buisness owners are wealthy and rarely struggle? This was what I told myself when I began to rewrite the second half of my life story, except quickly the bookstore's of the 90's, early 2000's were all shutting down, not just the ma and pa shops, borders went under and by 2012 I don't believe a single location remained in Connecticut after 2012.
Technology and online shopping slowly made the bookstore obsolete, and currently as it stands, Connecticut has a total of 5 book stores, all distantly spaced from one another, and only 2 of them have been in buisness longer than one year, so the future for the other stores are unknown and the idea of taking that chance, doesn't go hand and hand with my personality type, a careful, timid man who is terrified to fail, especially when the implication would mean failing at the thing I had banked so much of my life plans and my future around. Pair that with the risk evaluation and the fact I have two young boys who rely on me to provide for them, and the uncertainty that being a buisness owner entails, in a market that is in a state of decline, the job insecurity is keeping me from going in the bank and taking out a business loan, though the temptation is constant, I believe it's calling me to the shelves.
That's when I decided to take online booksales seriously for now, though the dreams of a physical store is still very alive. I want to build a reputation on the internet and through social media and self promotion, and hopefully have a substantial devoted following of fellow book lovers who want to see me succeed just as bad as I want the brick and mortar store to be a reality, my true calling. Because I have big plans for my store one day, plans that will ensure my relevance in the bookselling sphere, create a space to hang out, have coffee, make friends, as well as join a book club, or a creative writing course which would be offered for free for those interested, much like what the public libraries offer, (among other ideas I am unwilling to announce as of now, because for the sake of longevity I reckon a bit of creativity may be the phsical shops saving grace, to help define my shop, stand out from all the rest. I need to keep the cards in my palm a secret, until the actual day I announce "The Dust Jacket" has an official address.) Stay tuned because I feel confident that that day is closer then even I think. And I appreciate all and any support you can give me, whether it's buying books from my site, or merchandise, or spreading the word, I appreciate everyone who, no matter the size contribution, is showing me that my initial path to book sales is not what I imagined it to be, but you're giving me hope that one day I will cut the ribbon to the store I dreamed up almost 25 years ago, faking sick, only to play hookie from school so I was able to decide what I read.
~Daniel Costa (Owner and founder of 'The Dust Jacket - Second hand booksellers' Located in Hartford County, Connecticut)