I was going to move on from Canadian book shops after my first post focused exclusively on the wonderful book shops of Atlantic Canada, right over here. I want to talk about other book shops I love– ones I’ve visited in the UK, in France, and in Israel, for example. Instead, living in the USA as a dual-citizen, Canadian born, I’m frankly revolted by the tariffs President Trump is threatening, month after month, to force down the throats of just about everyone. Canada, neighbour and ally and my home for most of my life, has a massive 25% Sword of Damocles– well, a knock-off version, signed in gold Sharpie. I don’t like cheapness, bullying, or poor taste. I am proudly snobby, a stickler for excellence and high ideals, and I’m giving you the names of friendly Canadian book shops with brilliant taste in books, and I’m sprinkling in authors and titles along the way.

With links.

If Trump wants to spread economic chaos, which he does, I encourage you not to do what he wants. Don’t panic, don’t go into hysterics. Be annoyed, call reality what it it; to say it’s anything but bad and dangerous is untruthful, so say the truth. Every good book is truthful. But panic is nonsense. So go forth and calmly buy the best books you can from the best shops you can, give books, spread literature, spread art, and buy Canadian books from Canadian shops if you possibly can. Here’s where to go, here’s what to buy, and here’s information on why.

I already told you about my very first childhood book shop, Tidewater Books. My first children’s book shop, though, was Mabel’s Fables in Toronto, a beautiful shop I love dearly. I had my first job interview there, too. It was frankly ridiculous of my even to apply since I had basically zero availability, but they gave me an interview, listened to me, and made me feel absolutely amazing. They had a cat, named Mabel, of course. It was, for most of my middle and high school years, a friendly and welcoming place. I remember the first time I sold another customer, confused parents, on a book, and I felt so great, and the bookseller just smiled at me even though I was sure I was a complete weirdo stepping on his turf. He made me feel like I was just another potential bookseller, which, at that point, was all I wanted: to be someone who shared books.

Almost unbelievably, that’s the place Mabel’s Fables still is. When I took my kids to Toronto last time, I nearly had to drag the Changeling (now 11) out the door back to her grandparents’ house. Later, while she was busy in an activity, the Spriggan more or less said “Mabel’s Stables” (that’s what he calls it, and the bookseller smiled at him and said it was an excellent name, probably better than Mabel’s Fables, because, well, it’s an amazing place) over and over, sometimes wheedling, sometimes soft and sad, sometimes petulantly, until we took him back. Bliss reigned as soon as he was back in the shop. “Mabel’s Stables,” he said contentedly. I made sure to leave a lot of those The Hidden World of Gnomes by Lauren Soloy there for others to buy, among their other fine books, mostly because they had more copies than I could carry. I would have taken Mabel, but she didn’t get all the way in the stroller…

The booksellers are brilliant, they know their stock, and they have fantastic taste. And did I mention they have a cat? They do, as many places do, have toys now. Like Woozles, they have added them to the stock, but not allowed the store to become a gadget place with books. They are relevant, creative, and artistic. The keynote of the stock is inspiration and creativity, and books, books, books are what the place is about.

I am a very, very big fan of lovely French children’s books from lovely French book shops. I do a French storytime at my local library once a month and it’s pretty much the absolute highlight of my month that doesn’t actively involve my own children. I don’t recommend French books that often because I don’t have many French readers. But I can’t pass over my beloved Quebec, and if you have any wish to get French language books, Librairie Le Port de tête is a lovely spot where my husband got me really great books, some fascinatingly old and out of print and some new, and then they got stolen with our car. I’m never, never getting over that. I had to miss out on a trip to Montreal and the books he got me were stolen. At a good Quebec book shop, you can get French-language literature from Canada and France, both. I love Marianne Dubuc, Roch Carrier, Isabelle Arsenault, and more. But you can also get, for example, all the Gabrielle Vincent Ernest et Célestine books. You miss out on a lot of wonderful books if you only read one language…

One of the things about Canada is that it’s massive, it really is just so very, very big. This year we got to visit my wonderful friends in Victoria, British Columbia. From my childhood address on Squire Street in Sackville, New Brunswick to my friend’s house in Victoria, it is 5, 609 km. But if you did decide to visit Tidewater Books and then, on a whim, drive for three days to see what the book shops on the opposite coast are like, I would recommend visiting Munro’s Books, which, in addition to having a staggeringly beautiful selection of literature, has a reputation for treating its employees extremely well. They stay for a long, long time, and, therefore, are keen and educated readers, know the stock, know the history of books, and can recommend not just what’s top of the frontlist, but the best books for you, the reader in front of them, right there and right then. I have never left without being impressed. This last time, I got to observe them helping another friend who was looking for a book for her child who is autistic and keen on animals. The employee listened closely and produced a few books that were just right. The Canadian literature is plentiful, from classics by Robert Munsch and Phoebe Gilman (I continue to think that The Balloon Tree is a staggering example of a debut picture book) to more recent titles, with a particularly fine collection of Indigenous literature, including David A. Robertson and Julie Flett’s On the Trapline, a stunning example of a book that speaks truthfully to an enormous range of ages and peoples. I’m always so excited in there that I never seem to take a proper picture of the place. I guess they need a cat for me to take pictures of, like Mabel’s Fables…. But someone doing their face-out book placements shares my taste, clearly…

And did you know– Sydney Smith up there– he might live in Nova Scotia, but there his books are, facing out, and that one’s in a collaboration with an author from California, mind you. Sydney Smith is one of the greatest Canadians living, and that’s a hill I’m prepared to die on, so please go forth and buy his books. Share them. And say, “This is what Canada has to offer the world.”

I’ll share book shops from other countries, too, very soon. But I’ll let you browse these, first.