By Susan Reese
You might be surprised to learn that convenience stores have appeared in scenes of a number of works of fiction. Unfortunately, the stores are all too often “the scene of the crime.” So last year, when a Pulitzer Prize-winning author released a book about a convenience retailer, it was hard not to be hopeful that convenience stores would finally be portrayed as more than just a setting for robbery and murder.
Richard Russo’s Bridge of Sighs could be one of the best novels ever written about a convenience store. Technically, it’s about small-town America and the relationships among families and friends, but the store is definitely an important part of the story.
Russo, who won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel Empire Falls, and also wrote Nobody’s Fool, which was made into a movie starring Paul Newman and nominated for two Oscars, is known for his storytelling ability, his strong character development and his ability to portray small-town American life with compassion and understanding. He doesn’t gloss over the downside of that life and confronts the issues head on, such as the economic struggle of a town when a company shuts down and leaves, or occasional small mindedness and even bigotry.
The main character in Bridge of Sighs is Louis Charles “Lucy” Lynch, the owner of what his son refers to as “an empire” of convenience stores — which actually amounts to three. At 60 years old, Lucy is looking back upon his life. His late father, “Big Lou,” bought the first store when he lost his job as a milkman. The town’s first supermarket had just opened, so buying one of the few remaining corner markets — most of which had gone the way of the milk truck — wasn’t a very good idea. And he didn’t tell his wife about it until after the deal was done.
But it’s the practicality of Big Lou’s wife that saves the family when she realized that to compete with the big supermarket, their store would have to offer something more — staying open at times when the supermarket wasn’t — and so the town’s first convenience store was born. The store carried the name of the previous owner — Ikey Lubin’s — because the Lynch family didn’t want to spend money on a new sign.
As a teenager, Lucy had a love/hate relationship with the store. It nearly wrecked his parents’ marriage, and its long hours and struggling existence tied the family to the place, especially Lucy, who had to help out when he would rather be doing other things. But the store gradually became a place of comfort where not only his father’s many friends could come for coffee, but Lucy’s friends could find refuge as well.
The New York Times once noted Russo’s “attention to the rhythms of small-town life,” and that attention is certainly apparent in Bridge of Sighs. For many of you, your stores are (or perhaps used to be) a focal point of small-town life, a place where friends could drop by to share news and find fellowship. Why hasn’t a convenience store, the place where America shops and congregates, appeared so prominently in contemporary literature until now?
By the end of the novel, readers may find themselves longing to stand at the door of Ikey Lubin’s, looking forward to opening the door and hearing the tinkling of the bell, then going in to find the Lynch family behind the counter and their friends gathered at the small table drinking coffee.
Detective novels typically depict convenience stores as scenes of robbery, murder, kidnapping and general mayhem. In Janet Evanovich’s books from the Stephanie Plum series, the main character, Stephanie, is a convenience store kind of girl — and a bounty hunter. And since she is constantly getting herself into trouble, it was inevitable that in one of the 14 books in the series, she would end up running into trouble at a convenience store.
In Ten Big Ones, Stephanie and Lula — her friend and coworker at her cousin’s bail bonds company — head to a deli-mart in “The Burg” section of New Jersey because they have a craving for nachos. Unfortunately, at that same moment, a criminal runs out of the store, and in the ensuing chaos Stephanie’s car gets blown up.
Although more for entertainment than great literature, Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum books are wildly popular, and one of the reasons is that the characters are a very funny bunch — from Lula, a plus-sized former hooker, to Stephanie’s grandmother, who likes going to funerals and often gets kicked out of them.
As a bounty hunter, Stephanie is barely competent. Her first attempt at bringing in someone usually results in her falling down (or into something unpleasant), getting handcuffed herself or even the occasional stun gunning. She usually solves the central mystery of each book almost by accident. She has bad hair days and obsesses about food — and we’re not talking tea, organic fruit and fine dining. It’s more like doughnuts, pizza, beer and food of the convenience store variety.
While Evanovich’s books contain violence, it’s mild compared to those of some other writers. John Ridley is a former stand-up comedian, television writer and author whose novels include Everybody Smokes in Hell, in which the main character works nights in a convenience store. Darkly comedic and extremely violent, the book, perhaps ironically, never portrays extreme brutality in the convenience store.
The main character, Paris Scott, is pursued by drug dealers, Hollywood agents and other criminals and psychopaths, who all come looking for him at the 24/7 Mart. Instead, these folks often encounter Scott’s boss, Mr. Bashir, a decent family man who falls under the overwhelmingly seductive powers of the woman who is in pursuit of Scott — a woman who is among the scariest to ever grace the pages of a book. Incredibly, by the end, the store manager and the store clerk are among the few characters left alive. How’s that for irony?
The book is not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach, but if you’re a Quentin Tarantino aficionado, you’ll probably enjoy it.
As an industry expert, you might find some literary depictions of convenience stores off base, unfamiliar or even downright weird.
Falling into the bad weird category is The Afterlife of Trisha Bumwood, by Francis DiPietro — a book in which the title character ends up in the afterlife because she is killed while working in a convenience store that is owned by — wait for it — Jesus. The devil, in the guise of an old crone, frequents the store. Why Jesus would own a convenience store is unclear, as is the reason this single mother, who doesn’t seem to be particularly special in any way, inspires the love of Jesus, God and the devil — all of whom fight for her in the afterlife. And, yes, the book is every bit as offensive as it sounds.
In the good weird category is a short story called “The Hortlak,” which appears in Kelly Link’s book Magic for Beginners, a Time Best Book of the Year. The story is mostly set in the All-Night Convenience, which is built next to the Ausible Chasm, a deep dark place filled with zombies.
What seems like the worst site planning ever turns out to have a purpose, however, since the zombies represent an entirely new sales demographic for the All-Night Convenience. Each night the zombies come into the store, but they aren’t violent and apparently would like to shop. The manager and clerk don’t know what they want, however, because they can’t understand what the zombies are saying. On top of that, the zombies seem to want to purchase things they’ve brought in themselves.
There are three main characters in the story: Eric, the young store clerk; Charley, the young woman he has a crush on who drives by each day giving euthanasia-doomed dogs a last joyful ride in her beat-up old car; and Batu, the strange store manager. Link’s writing is hard to classify as horror, fantasy or even science fiction. But, while definitely eerie, her stories have a certain charm and quirkiness. When the All-Night Convenience is robbed, it is by a man armed with a coat full of bees.
In the end, is the story about crass commercialism — will big companies sell anything to anyone, living or dead? Is it about what it means to really be alive — is Eric really the only one of the three who has a chance at that? Is it about Batu’s cool pajamas? Not figuring it out exactly doesn’t diminish the fun of reading the story.
…but then again, maybe not. Ian Watteau dedicates his book Convenience at a Price to, among others, sales clerks everywhere. If only it were better. Clearly self-published and filled with bad spelling and other errors, it tells the tale of a really long shift in one store that predictably ends in violence.
Another self-published book is Not Even Your Money — Stories of a Quick Stop. The author, Matthew Ralph, and his brother Mike worked in a convenience store, and the book is a compilation of their experiences. Perhaps others who have worked in convenience stores might find this a book to relate to, but it still could have used the services of a good editor.
The great non-fiction convenience store book may not have been written yet, and perhaps will require gathering stories from across the country to make a compelling collection. But in the meantime, we at least have one good novel that tells the story of one special convenience store in Bridge of Sighs — and that’s something to celebrate.
Susan Reese is a senior editor with Print Management Inc., a Virginia-based editorial services company.