Lectern’s New and Used Books: Summer Break

by Dave Bryant

Sci-Twi finds a book that shouldn’t exist

Lectern’s New and Used Books was quieter a half-hour before closing than it had been earlier on a busy Friday evening. The seven girls had spent a few after-work hours with take-out dinner in the front sitting room, chatting and comparing notes. Now most of them were dispersed into the rest of the neighborhood for some last-minute shopping as a reward for keeping their noses to the proverbial grindstone, leaving only the most bookish of the group to do their celebratory shopping in Lectern’s itself.

Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle idly perused the same section of used books on the upper floor, looking for some entertaining fiction that wouldn’t break the budget if it didn’t turn out to be their cups of tea. This late, the shelves were in some disarray, littered with occasional out-of-place strays and untidy piles. Twilight’s penchant for neatness made her hands twitch, but for the most part she resisted the urge to do the staff’s job for them, as more than one of her friends had chided her about in just those words. Sunset was less moved to reshelve books, but did grumble under her breath at the way the mess complicated browsing. She was doing so again when Twilight’s voice, in a frightened hush, spoke up.

“S-Sunset? What did you say the name of your country is?”

“Equestria. Why?” Sunset turned around to see her disturbingly pale companion staring at a book held in both hands as if it were one of Fluttershy’s more obnoxious animal charges about to try biting and scratching. “Uh—what’s wrong?”

Without a word Twilight turned and presented the book, and Sunset caught her breath. In an elegantly thin flowing chancery was the title Tales From Equestria, under which the subtitle proclaimed the book to be “STORIES FOR THE YOUNG AND THE YOUNG AT HEART”. Yet it was the cover artwork, more than the title, that made her freeze in sudden heartstopping shock. Brilliant slanted shapes, plainly intended as bright sunlight spilling through a tall mullioned window, framed a glorious rendition of a curly-rayed sun, textured to suggest a paved floor, right down to the gold metal strips framing each block of colored stone.

“What . . .” she croaked after a moment. One hand reached out, claw-like, and Twilight surrendered the book more than willingly. Sunset turned it over and looked at the back cover. Similar, but less intense, shapes slanted the other way, highlighting a fanciful crescent moon set in a different flooring, with the usual back-cover squib reversed out of the dark-shadowed area at the top of the image.

It took clearing her throat twice before she was able to read aloud, “‘Once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria . . .’ With these words the world was introduced to . . . blah blah blah . . . a host of writers and artists . . . blah blah blah . . . children’s television program . . .”

“I’ve never heard of that television series,” Twilight said nervously, “but it sounds exactly like—”

“—Like where I came from, yeah. And those sure do look like the Chamber of the Sun and the Chamber of the Moon in Canterlot Palace. I’ve walked on those floors.” Sunset stared at the book in consternation. “But . . . the way this reads doesn’t sound like any kind of official adaptation.”

“I looked at the preface and some of the pages at random. It’s . . . it’s fan fiction. Of a television show that doesn’t exist. About a world almost nobody knows about.” Twilight swallowed. “With us—or at least the pony versions of us—in it.”

Sunset blinked and flipped through the book rapidly to confirm Twilight’s chain of logic. She stared at the page for a long moment, then let the softcover fall shut again. “Okay, let’s go downstairs and find out what’s going on. This is pretty elaborate for a practical joke. Even Pinkie couldn’t create a whole book like this—and I know I’ve never mentioned the Chambers to anyone.”

The college student behind the counter frowned down at the mysterious book lying there innocently, back cover up. “Huh. That’s weird. The copyright date doesn’t make any sense, and there’s no ISBN or bar code.”

Both customers leaned over to look down. “ISBN?” Sunset asked blankly.

“International Standard Book Number,” the other two chorused. The older student shrugged at Twilight, who continued, “Every book published in the last, um, thirty years or so has one. Well, more accurately every book that’s supposed to go into the retail market gets one. If a new book doesn’t have an ISBN, no distributor or bookstore will touch it. I remember reading in a newsletter about a graphic novel published by a small press, run by somebody who normally worked with comic books. They never worked with books before and didn’t bother to get an ISBN for it, so it never got into distribution and flopped horribly.”

The cashier, who’d spent the time during Twilight’s lecture tapping on the check-out tablet’s screen, looked up again. “There’s no record of this in the inventory system. I—huh. I’m gonna have to call Mister Lectern on this one. It doesn’t even have a price tag.”

Twilight opened her mouth to demur, but Sunset overrode her. “Go ahead. It looks interesting, so I’ll take it.” She ignored Twilight’s stare that said more eloquently than words, Are you crazy?

Lectern, summoned via intercom, appeared shortly and took over the other check-out tablet. After being briefed by his employee, he quickly verified no listing for the book appeared anywhere in the store’s database—or indeed in any public bibliographic database. “Well.” He turned and favored the girls with a wry smile. “Not to worry. Once in a while something slips through the cracks, despite everyone’s best efforts. Though I confess the lack of a price tag, or any listing anywhere, is rather puzzling. How about . . .” After a moment’s thought he named a rather nominal price, which Sunset paid promptly. Lectern handled the rest of the sale himself and saw off the girls with a cheery farewell.

Once out on the sidewalk Twilight leaned in and hissed, “What were you thinking, Sunset? That book—”

Sunset pitched the book into one of the sturdy trash barrels spotted at intervals along the street. It rattled against the receptacle’s anti-tamper roof before vanishing into the pitch-black depths of the canister, invisible and all but unreachable. “That book from who-knows-where is something we will never, ever mention to anybody. Or anypony. Especially our friends who are in it. Right?”

Twilight blinked and looked at the trash can, then back at Sunset. “Right,” she agreed firmly.

Author's Note:

This one is pure silliness and not to be taken seriously. The book cover that generates so much horrified puzzlement is on Deviantart for the reader’s viewing pleasure—but don’t look at it before reading the story.

Comments

[badninja]

I wonder why Sunset was so adamant that the book be gotten rid of? Yes it was odd but she should have found a better way to deal with it, possibly.

[Dave Bryant]

7671516 I’ve added a bit more dialog to underline that Sunset and Twilight quite naturally are disturbed by the idea of a book, apparently from nowhere, containing fan fiction that shouldn’t exist—about them and their friends, to boot, or at least their pony counterparts.

[badninja]

7671633

Yea that would be a bit creepy. I would have still read it to see what these crazy authors came up with.

[Dave Bryant]

7671646 I’m not so sure. It would be rather like reading the diary of someone who’s stalking the reader. I don’t find it at all hard to imagine being too creeped out to deal with it, especially given some of the conversations I’ve had with female friends and acquaintances on similar subjects.

Anyway, this was intended to be humorous in a mildly Twilight Zone-ish way, nothing more.

[kul]

7671633
Understandable.. Im also having this issue, but maybe that can be contrinbuted to me skimming it very fast, since Im very curious about the twist in this one! Continue on!!

[swyrl]

If you get rid of something, it will find a way to haunt you.
The book must be destroyed.

[Dave Bryant]

7672053
7673123
I don’t plan to follow up on it; these are one-shots, and I don’t want to put too much emphasis on what really was a whimsical minor idea.
That doesn’t preclude someone else following up on it, though. . . .

[Ggunsailor]

I can't wait to see more!

[BenRG]

I'm getting a strong 'Never-Ending Story' vibe here! Who put the book there? Destiny; she also wanted the girls to find it too!

[Emerald Harp]

That was interesting.

[Dave Bryant]

8125687
I’m glad you found it intriguing!

[livinthelife]

This late, the shelves were in some disarray, littered with occasional out-of-place strays and untidy piles. Twilight’s penchant for neatness made her hands twitch, but for the most part she resisted the urge to do the staff’s job for them, as more than one of her friends had chided her about in just those words. Sunset was less moved to reshelve books, but did grumble under her breath at the way the mess complicated browsing.

But rummaging through random piles of books is half the fun of a good used book store!

Man I still remember my favorite book store back in my home town. A haphazard labyrinth of dimly lit wooden shelves, battered but sturdy. A nonsensical floor design from their expanding into the building a bit at a time over decades. The aging hippie of an owner planted permanently by the door, chatting with regulars. Remembering that smell of paper and wood and must still brings a smile to my face. There're many used book stores near where I live now, but none compare to my first.

[Dave Bryant]

8226159
I confess my sympathies lie with Sunset. I don’t enjoy random-walk browsing; I prefer to zero in immediately on authors, publishers, and titles. Stacks in disarray prevent that, which makes me notably cranky. On the other hand, I’m not quite at Twilight’s level of compulsion to set things right.
   Oddly for someone who’s loved books and reading as I have, I never have formed strong attachments to any bookstores, though I do have fond if hazy memories of a comic shop. In childhood, my family moved around too much. As a young and middle-aged adult, a combination of poverty and lack of access precluded it. More recently I’ve read less and bought e-books instead of paperbacks.
   All that said, I did construct Lectern’s to be just the sort of idiosyncratic, lovable local bookstore people visit, and recall, fondly for many years. It may not resemble exactly the store you describe so glowingly, but I did want to evoke exactly that sort of response in the reader.

[EchoWing]

I disagree with the decision to pitch it. With it in the trash, anyone can pick it up. Makes more sense to lock it away somewhere, just in case.

[Dave Bryant]

8304117
Most modern street-furniture trash receptacles, such as the model used in the city where I live, are designed specifically to make just that sort of rummaging difficult if not impossible, even when partially full. Once the book disappears down into the dark, sheltered interior, it’s effectively invisible and nearly unreachable. When a city crew pulls the bag from the container, the book almost certainly would be buried somewhere in the middle. I’d assumed that sort of design is familiar and widespread, but I’ve added a sentence explicitly spelling this out.

[Eroraf86]

Well. That just happened.

That was meta as F***!

What the -- get out of my comment, Deadpool!

[Antiquarian]

That was the best possible way to handle that.

[Ice Star]

Oh no, this story is educational too? What have I stumbled into?