In the digital age, it may come as a surprise that bookstores are making a strong comeback. Across the country, independent bookshops are popping up and thriving—fueled by a growing desire to disconnect from screens and reconnect with the simple pleasure of reading. Nowhere is this more evident than in Midway, where Folklore Bookshop is quickly becoming the community’s newest favorite gathering spot.
Founded by Lindsey Leavitt Brown, Audrey Lind, and Alison Russell, Folklore is more than a bookstore—it’s a labor of love. On a perfectly stormy day, the kind of day made for curling up with a good book, I met with the trio behind the shop. With Lindsey’s background as a children’s book author, Audrey’s librarian expertise, and Alison’s retail experience, Folklore was destined to be something special.
If it’s been a while since you’ve walked into a bookstore, let me paint the scene: the moment you open the door to Folklore, you’re met with the intoxicating scent of paper and ink. Walls of colorful tomes beckon you in, each promising an adventure, a lesson, or a new perspective. There’s something comforting about being surrounded by stories, and Folklore knows exactly how to make you feel welcome.
The shop carries a thoughtful selection of titles across every genre—fiction, non-fiction, thrillers, romance, horror, and, of course, a robust children’s section filled with board books, picture books, and chapter books. As we sat among pop-up books and picture books, Alison showed me a copy of Willis Wilbur, one of Lindsey’s own titles. It was clear that this was a place built not just for selling books, but for celebrating them.
Cozy seating throughout the store encourages visitors to slow down and stay awhile. There’s a quiet magic in turning the pages of a book, something you can’t replicate with a swipe on a screen. As an avid reader, I’ll always choose a hardcover or paperback over an e-book. Science backs me up: study after study shows that reading physical books improves focus, sleep, and retention—unlike screen time, which has the opposite effect.
The Folklore team agrees. When asked about competition from online giants, they smiled and jokingly referred to one in particular as “The Big A.” But they also pointed out that shopping local supports your community. As Alison put it, “When you buy locally, you’re giving back to the community. That money stays where you live.” Authors get paid regardless of where their books are sold, but local purchases benefit neighbors, not corporations. Plus, nothing compares to holding a book in your hands before you buy it.
More than just retail, Folklore is a space for community. Sociologists talk about the importance of a “Third Place”—a space that’s neither home nor work, where people gather, connect, and exchange ideas. Coffee shops, parks, and bookstores often fill this role, and Folklore embraces it wholeheartedly. The store is a hub for book clubs, author signings, and special events that bring people together.
On the day I visited, a group of a dozen women had gathered in the back for a book club meeting. Despite the gloomy weather, the room was full of warmth, laughter, and conversation. Think about the last time you talked to someone about a book you both read—how your interpretations sparked deeper discussion. That’s the kind of interaction Folklore hopes to foster regularly.
“People will always need bookstores,” Lindsey said. “Reading is just what people do—it will never go out of fashion.” The team is especially proud of their passionate and knowledgeable booksellers, who have a knack for helping customers find the perfect read. Whether you’re a voracious reader or someone just dipping your toes into a new genre, they’ll make you feel right at home.
Folklore also hosts several events each month. Thanks to Lindsey’s connections in the publishing world, they’ve already featured some top-notch authors. In February, they threw a fun “Galentine’s Day” party, and in December, a birthday bash for Taylor Swift. When I asked if the shop was named after Swift’s 2020 album, Audrey and Alison shared knowing smiles. “Oh, that question,” Lindsey laughed. “I am a Swifty, but we chose the name back in 2018.” While there’s a playful nod to Taylor—the poetry section is called “The Tortured Poet’s Department”—the name Folklore is much deeper.
They explained it this way: break it down—folk, meaning people, and lore, meaning stories. “Connecting people and stories,” they said. That’s their mission, and it shows in everything they do. Whether you’re browsing, buying, chatting about your favorite characters, or just sitting quietly among the shelves, Folklore invites you to be part of something meaningful.
As I stepped back out into the wind and rain, I felt a little more rooted in this valley—grateful for places like Folklore and the people who create them. Because in the end, it’s not just about the books—it’s about the stories we share and the community we build.
More Information: @folkloremidway
folklorebookshop.com
