Nic and I are often asked why we chose to change career to set up a bookshop. Thinking right back to the beginning is pretty hazy, much like at the birth of a child. Memories are fragmented – we were just so impossibly busy, it was so long ago and phone cameras weren’t a thing but I’ve done my best to recount how and why it all came about. I hope it proves interesting or at least provides you with some entertainment over your morning coffee and if you make it to the end, you will be rewarded with Part Two soon!
The Idea that Stuck
“What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare…”
This opening from W.H. Davies poem is one which regularly taps me on the shoulder when I am consumed by to-do lists, reminding me to stop, breathe, look around me and take it all in. It feels especially prescient now as Mr B’s celebrates its 20th year and it feels like a good time to take a brief pause in the whirr of daily life to reflect on where we are now and where it all began. It is also apt since it was at a moment of stopping and staring that the whole idea of Mr B’s came about in the first place – at a crossroads in our lives, when the energy and naivety of youth meant that the path less-travelled seemed like a great idea, and not at all foolish or scary.
Nic and I had met in 1998 in London at Allen & Overy, a large city law firm and a few years later moved to Prague where Nic was transferred and I worked part-time as lawyer while also trying my hand at being a photographer. It was immense fun. We made some incredible friends, travelled all over Europe, bought a little Skoda and got married in the meadow of an onion-topped Czech castle. Something was niggling at us though, a sense that neither of us were doing something we felt passionate about. Nic was a frustrated entrepreneur at heart and whilst I loved the creative side of photography, I missed working as part of a team. We were both ready to leap, but unsure of where to.
Fast-forward to our honeymoon in 2004 and a bleary-eyed first two days in Seattle, on our way to Alaska. Under a startling blue September sky, we meandered around the fish-smoked Pike Place market and then hunted out the local independent bookshop, Elliott Bay Book Company. In its meandering wooden nooks, walkways and personalised favourites shelves, we discovered the most soulful browsing bookshop experience we’d ever had.
With that wonderful bookish afternoon fresh in our minds, we hopped on a float plane to the little island of San Juan. As we sat on the balcony, sipped our G&Ts and watched the whale-watching boats come in and the sun turn pink over Friday Harbor, we contemplated our future. Should we stay in Prague? Should Nic go for that promotion? Should I try my hand at something new? All our thoughts kept circling back to the same thing – that we should try to do something that we would both really loved. We didn’t want to “live for the weekend” and we reasoned that if we did something we felt passionate about, that in itself would feel like success. We also thought it would be fun to do something together. The question was, what did we both really love and reading was the most obvious passion that we shared. Aha! “So why don’t we set up a bookshop?” – one just as magical as Elliott Bay Book Co. but back in the UK? How hard could it be, right?
With each G&T, the idea became an increasingly sensible and achievable one for two lawyers whose only retail experience between them was a two-month stint on the deli counter at Morrison’s.
pre-phone selfie!
The Plan and a Dog
Holidays were always the times when we made crazy plans together. With our minds freed from routine tasks and our souls feeding off the energy and beauty of new scenery, we would often envision exciting new ventures. This time, however, the dream-bubble didn’t pop with the unpacking of bags.
Instead, the idea started to crystallise. Before anything else though, I had one critical mission to complete before anything else and that was to get a dog since life is always better with a dog. Within a few weeks and much searching of rescues across Czechia, we had a little scraggy bundle of a pup we called Vlashka. Next up was the bookshop idea but before we could even start fleshing things out, we needed to figure out a possible location. Bath for us was an obvious choice. Nic had links from when he and his parents used to stay there, and I had recently visited and fallen for its little side-streets, independent shops and golden stone. On a more practical level, it had a rich cultural heritage, two universities and plenty of tourists which we hoped would surely help the chances of bookshop success.
The Name and the Book Monkey
We had a very clear vision of what we wanted the bookshop to feel like and what its key characteristics would be. But what would it be called? The question of the name felt critical to taking the vision forward and also, frankly, the most fun thing ever – coming up with the name of our very own shop. This was long before we had a premises or even before we’d arrived back in the UK, but it consumed our thoughts as we meandered Prague’s cobbled streets. We felt we wanted the name to somehow reflect the shop’s character and that once we had bottomed out a name, everything else would follow on.
The trend at the time was to go short and minimalist-feeling – places with names like “BOOKS Etc.” and “EAT.” were opening up everywhere. This didn’t suit our vision though. If our shop was to be full of character and colour, it should be something that sounded like a circus or a shop in a Dickens novel but also with a modern twist. A long name, but one that could also be shortened perhaps?
It was one evening, having dinner in a bustling Balkan restaurant close to our flat in Mala Strana that Nic said “What about something like Mr B’s Emporium of Reading Delights or Mr B’s for short.” “Yes! That’s it.” I replied and despite playing around with it for a few weeks after that, fiddling to see if we could improve on it, it was the name we kept coming back to.
We mused that if anyone asked who Mr B was, rather than just say it was short for our surname of Bottomley, we’d say that the shop was named after an eccentric fictional character who travelled the world bringing back curios and incredible literature. Mr B would have a monkey as his pet/side-kick and with that, the idea of the Book Monkey was born, the same monkey who came to life in our logo, encircling the elaborate name within his tail, and who has appeared in various shop features ever since.
The Reality and Much Positivity
With a name and a vision, it felt like there was no going back. We made the plunge, quit our jobs and worked out our notice in Prague, searching for houses on the very new “Rightmove” as close to Bath as we could afford.
I set about my own “Changing Rooms” style renovation on our newly purchased cottage within a few miles of Bath. Nic in the meantime drove Vlashka and himself to my parents’ house in South Manchester where he started a research tour of bookshops in the north of England. Driving all over and up into Scotland, he visited bookshops and their owners, peppering them with questions and finding out as much as he could about the workings of the industry. Fresh from his rigorously organised lawyering days, he made files and files of notes, cuttings and insights, all beautifully and neatly labelled in ring binders.
What became clear very quickly was that the book industry was unbelievably collaborative, filled with kind-hearted, book-obsessed folk who were incredibly generous with their time and who were so welcoming and encouraging (if sometimes more realistic about the challenges than we’d hoped!)). Sue and Andrew at Simply Books were particularly kind, as were the team at the magnificently eccentric Scarthin Books in Cromford and the various booksellers in Wigtown, a book-town that a decade or so later would become the home of the Bookshop Band.
How else did we prepare? Well, we read books of course. “The Truth about Bookselling” by Thomas Joy, The Complete Guide to Starting and Running a Bookshop” by the Booksellers Association and the thrilling (but genuinely vital) “The Mathematics of Bookselling” by Leonard Shatzkin. Also, books on customer service, such as “Hug Your Customer” by Jack Mitchell. By this point it was starting to dawn on us just what hard work it was going to be and what a very steep learning curve we were on.
The vision of our bookshop’s core characteristics were non-negotiable – an absolute focus on customer-service, experience-led, very personally curated and quirky (the word “du jour”), with a fun edge. We were also far from work-shy. As city lawyers, used to long hours and an obsessive attention to detail, we were completely focussed and driven towards our goal of creating this shop.
It’s odd to look back now and realise how completely filled we were with this unstoppable, positive energy. How we never once doubted (for long at least) that things would work out. We repeated the mantra to ourselves that if you worked hard enough, things would surely succeed. It seemed unthinkable that it wouldn’t, and I think that that refusal to let doubts creep in was absolutely crucial in allowing the vision to unfold over the next few months.
The Team – When Two Became Three
As we busied ourselves planning in our little attic space, our team grew to three later in 2005 when my brother, Harvey, came back from his travels and joined Project Mr B’s. Having quit his city job as a forensic accountant a few months earlier, he had been travelling and returned without a concrete plan. Somehow, we convinced him that setting up a bookshop with us should be top of his priorities list. He moved in and immediately started pouring over spreadsheets. His skills as an accountant came in mighty handy with the creation of our business plan, as nothing was going to get off the ground without a bank loan. He was also a massive bookworm, devouring copious piles of books every year, so all in all a very useful man to have on our team.
Next up was the rather critical matter of finding the retail unit for the shop within Bath. We took to the streets to do some footfall measuring in various locations, establishing where a good place for a shop would be. Clearly, we’d never be able to afford the big shopping streets, such as Milsom Street so we needed a spot as close as possible to these but that was affordable. At any rate, once the shop was open, we’d be putting all of our energy into building its reputation and making it a destination – so being slightly off-pitch would, we hoped, be a short-term problem. After a bunch of viewings we stumbled on a property on John Street that was being used as an additional showroom by Quiet Street Antiques around the corner. It was full of character but would need large-scale cosmetic work. Still undaunted, we got the loan and signed the lease.
While much of that planning phase remains a blur of frenzied happenings, that particular day remains crystal clear in my mind. Signed lease in hand, the three of us went for a drink in The Raven pub. As we raised our glasses in celebration, we stared out of the window in giddy excitement and not a small amount of trepidation, down the street to where we would very soon be opening our very own bookshop. Yikes.
Up next, many ISBNs are cut and pasted, the bath takes centre stage and major panic sets in on the opening day. Stay tuned for part two.