Rekindled Connection with Our Enduring Loves
A Review of
Ordinary Time: Lessons Learned While Staying Put
Annie B. Jones
Hardcover: HarperOne, 2025
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Reviewed by Lindsey Cornett
I first encountered Annie B. Jones back in 2016, when she appeared as a guest during the early days of Anne Bogel’s podcast, What Should I Read Next? From the beginning, I was enamored with her story and the way she spoke about books and bookstores. Since her twenties, Jones has been the owner of The Bookshelf, an independent bookstore in small-town Thomasville, Georgia. She began working as a bookseller in the store’s Tallahassee location in her twenties, and when that location needed to close, she relocated to Thomasville and began the process of buying the store from its original owners. As you might expect of a bookstore owner, Jones is a lifelong lover of the written word, and has now shifted the focus of that love toward her own memoir, called Ordinary Time: Lessons Learned While Staying Put. As the title suggests, she’s using this collection of 24 well-connected essays to explore what it has meant to settle down in a small town, committing to one location and one vocation for the long-haul.
After hearing Jones on Bogel’s podcast almost a decade ago, I immediately followed her on social media and subscribed to her store’s email list. In the years since, I’ve purchased many books and gifts from their online store, kept tabs on the ups and downs of their work during the pandemic and since, and dipped in and out of listening to Jones’s own podcast, From the Front Porch. From my social-media vantage point, it has seemed that Jones lives the most Kathleen Kelly-esque life; just substitute New York City for southern Georgia. (Not an insignificant swap, as Jones would surely tell you.)
In You’ve Got Mail, the bookstore’s closing is ultimately a vehicle for Kathleen Kelly’s deeper emotional work and transformation. Can she remain connected to her late mother even if the store her mother founded must close? Does the store’s closure mean she is a failure? What relationships in her life are worth holding on to? Is there room in her life for transformation, for dreaming new dreams? In one of the movie’s famous lines, Kathleen laments, “It’s a lovely store, and in a week it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon, it’ll just be a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person, will probably think it’s a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something.” This line is, of course, as much about Kathleen as her store. She will change alongside the bookshop and city she loves, and will all that change turn out ok? In the midst of change, is she someone who can be counted on?
These are similar questions to those that are at the heart of Ordinary Time. The book is, as the title points to, telling the story of an ordinary life. In some ways, Jones seems to be saying, “I am not Kathleen Kelly. Owning a bookstore is not glamorous. I haven’t always felt confident about this path.” A book ostensibly about choosing small-town life ultimately becomes a book about relationships: with family, friends, coworkers, customers, and yes, home, both the buildings and the geography. It is a reminder that whether we stay or we go, it is the people around us who make life rich and worthwhile. At the same time, Jones recognizes that our place does affect interpersonal relationships in very real ways.
For a memoir written by a bookstore owner, Ordinary Time is surprisingly light on book talk, but I found that to be a delightful surprise. It would have been easy, I think, for Jones to let other pieces of literature stand in for the turns of her own story, but she doesn’t take this easy way out. Those of us who follow her online or listen to her podcast hear plenty of book talk from her, but she went deeper here, telling stories that (to the best of my knowledge) she has not told elsewhere, and certainly not with this level of detail. At the same time, the influence of her reading life is still evident–primarily in the quality of the writing. The language is not ornate or pretentious; it is clear, thoughtful, and beautifully expressive. This is a memoir clearly authored by someone who spends their life immersed in good books by good authors. My copy of the book is now full of underlining and sticky notes, not because I learned something entirely new or because my paradigms shifted dramatically, but because Jones has a way with words. I knew this from her online presence, but it was a particular delight to immerse myself in her thoughtful reflections for these 200+ pages.
The title, Ordinary Time, is also a reference to a season in the Christian church calendar, and so as you might expect, Jones dedicates one section of the book to exploring her faith and, in particular, her relationship to church. She writes about it in such a way as to not make any assumptions about what faith, if any, the reader may hold. Certainly, anyone who chose to leave the church or religious traditions of their childhood will find resonance in Jones’s experience. Of her childhood church, she writes, “I am glad I left, and I have healed enough to say I am glad that, for a little while, I stayed.” When I read this line, something in my own heart healed and settled back into place. This is the kind of honest storytelling and gentle nuance often missing from our reflections on millennial departure from church. In fact, much of this book is an exploration of nuance.
In a recent conversation on her podcast, I heard Jones reflect that she didn’t want to write a book that could only be enjoyed by millennials. I don’t think she has, but if you are a millennial (like me), you’ll find so much here to enjoy and relate to–like references to The Babysitter’s Club and, yes, You’ve Got Mail. Those who have enjoyed work by Shauna Niequist, Mary Laura Philpott, or Kelly Corrigan will find much to love here. I also think this book is a wonderful choice for high school or college graduates–anyone who finds themselves on the cusp of big decisions of the “stay or go?” variety. Conveniently, the book releases just in time for graduation season.
As Jones is reflecting on her own life, she explores how it could have gone a great many ways, but she’s coming to peace with the way it has ultimately gone. The way she tells these stories reveals her love and care for her place and her people, and I came away more grateful for the enduring loves in my own life.
Toward the end of the book, she writes, “…I want to live in a world where we love what we love, and we aren’t afraid to show it: on our faces, in our words, with our actions.” In Ordinary Time, she did just that.
Lindsey Cornett
Lindsey Cornett is a loud talker, obsessive coffee drinker, and lover of the written word who lives in downtown Indianapolis with her scientist husband, 3 kids, and crazy Bernedoodle. Most days, you’ll find her wrangling the dog, managing snacks, reheating her coffee, and trying to savor as much joy and gratitude as she can in the middle of these very full days. Lindsey writes a monthly-ish email newsletter about the intersections of faith, community, and curiosity at lindseycornett.substack.com.
 Reading for the Common Good From ERB Editor Christopher Smith "This book will inspire, motivate and challenge anyone who cares a whit about the written word, the world of ideas, the shape of our communities and the life of the church." -Karen Swallow Prior Enter your email below to sign up for our weekly newsletter & download your FREE copy of this ebook! |
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