Flying the Coop
Nine months ago I pitched an idea to my store-owner father about taking over a small room in the back of his bookshop. I have had a long-standing dream of a brick and mortar space where I can sell books, create networking opportunities, offer literary programming, and build brand awareness. This tiny space would allow me to scratch that itch without the outpouring of energy and staff required by a larger building.
My father said yes. The space was mine.
The Coop launched in September of 2022, not only making all internally published works available to customers, but I also curated a wonderful collection of thrifted goods — classic titles, pretty shelf decor, framed art, and (the surprising best seller) purses that were big enough to hold a laptop or tablet for those “Coffee Shop Writing Trips.”
On paper The Coop was a great idea. In reality—even though I really enjoyed curating the space and chatting with customers—it didn’t serve the ultimate goal of my business.
Chicken House Press is about the author first. It is about nurturing talent, propelling passion, and telling great stories.
Chicken House Press is not a store.
I think I had to open a store to fully understand this.
Don’t get me wrong—incredible connections have been built by this venture and new projects are in the works because of it, as well as ongoing conversations with leads I’m now nurturing because people popped in out of curiosity—however, it did not honour my mission.
As my father began thinking about downsizing his own store, I accepted that as permission to admit that The Coop was a wonderful experiment, but that it was time to move on.
And so, with little fanfare and a big thank you to everyone who stopped by to see the lovely space I curated, The Coop has closed its doors.
Down the road… who knows? Perhaps a new version of The Coop will appear. Until then, I will be working to list most of the remaining inventory online, packing boxes, and figuring out where to put the adorable orange vintage cabinet for which I traded a two year subscription to Blank Spaces magazine.
The closing of a storefront is bittersweet, but I know this is the right choice for myself and for my clients. For now.
The whole experience was very educational and I’m taking away many important lessons that I will apply to future ventures. I haven’t given up on the idea of a building to receive clients and customers; in fact, each morning I write the following forward-thinking-present-tense statements in my journal:
I own a literary hub that is the heartbeat of my business.
I employ a team of people who hold my vision and my values as if they are their own.
Because who knows…if science finally proves manifestation, I want to have already done the ground work.
