How to Manifest Your Own Morisaki Bookshop | A Totally Scientific Guide for Bookish Introverts

Ever dreamed of escaping the 9-5 grind to run your own cozy, slightly chaotic bookshop? One where the shelves are overstuffed with forgotten gems, the air smells like "regret and secondhand paperbacks," and your only coworkers are a judgmental cat and a dying fern? Welcome to your Morisaki Bookshop Era, a state of mind, a lifestyle, and possibly a cry for help disguised as aesthetic.

This guide will help you summon your very own bookish sanctuary, where time moves at the pace of a Victorian novel and the only spreadsheets you’ll deal with are "Which Classic Lit Character Would Hate Me" tier lists. Let’s begin.

STEP 1: Secure the Vibe

💡Lighting: String up fairy lights or invest in a vintage desk lamp that screams "I read 19th-century poetry by candlelight." (Pro tip: Flickering LED candles = romantic without the fire hazard.)

💿Soundtrack: Play "cozy bookstore jazz" on loop (bonus points for occasional vinyl crackles). If jazz isn’t your thing, try Dark Academia Playlist.

🕯️Scent: Mix old books + coffee + a hint of "rain on pavement". Congrats, you’ve bottled nostalgia. Now patent it before anyone else does.

STEP 2: Adjust Your Aesthetics 

👚Outfit: Oversized cardigans, turtlenecks in muted colors, or linen shirts with "I spilled tea on this" energy. High-waisted trousers, flowy skirts with pockets (for book hoarding), or jeans that whisper "I thrifted these in 2012." Beat-up ankle boots or loafers or slippers you technically shouldn’t wear outside (but do anyway).

📿 Accessories: A locket with a mysterious photo inside (it’s just your cat), a signet ring you pretend is an heirloom.

💇‍♀️Hairstyle: slightly unkempt, think "just rolled out of bed (but in a poetic way)." Braids, messy buns, or "I cut this myself during a Sylvia Plath phase" bobs.

💄Makeup: "I woke up like this" but with a smudge of eyeliner ("I was annotating Wuthering Heights too passionately"), a lipstick shade called "Barely There Bibliophile" or "Gothic Revival Red."

💬 Answer questions with quotes. "What time do you close?" → "‘The night is dark and full of terrors’… so 8 PM."

🎶Hum absentmindedly. Preferably classical music or the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack.

🧾When recommending books. Press a book into their hands like it’s a diagnosis. Whisper, "This one ruined me… you’ll love it."

🔖When asked for bestsellers. Gesture vaguely to a dusty corner. "We don’t do that here."

🧣Lean into the "tragically poetic" aura. If someone asks if you’re okay, just murmur, "‘Okay’ is a social construct," and float away in a cloud of scarf.

👻Your vibe: Part librarian, part ghost haunting their own bookstore, 100% unbothered (until rent is due).

STEP 3: Assemble Your Book Empire

📖Acquire books with history: Thrift stores, library sales, or that sketchy basement shop downtown. Bonus if they have marginalia like "WTF?? -Sarah, 1997" or a dried flower from someone’s tragic love affair.

🗂️Organize chaotically: Alphabetical order? Too mainstream. Try "vibes-based shelving" (e.g., Books That Made Me Cry next to Books I Pretend to Have Read).

🛍️ Include a "free tote" with purchase. Optional: Screenprint them with "I Spent My Rent Money on Books Again."

STEP 4: Adopt a Quirky Side Character

🐈‍⬛ Cat: Aloof, named after a dead poet (e.g., Poe or Plath). Must glare at customers who ask for "something like Colleen Hoover."

🪴Plant: A barely-alive fern you whisper "hang in there" to daily. (If it dies, replace it with a fake one and gaslight everyone.)

👴Eccentric Regular Customer: They only read obscure 18th-century nautical manuals and call you "kid." Secretly, they’re your favorite person.

STEP 4: Host ~Mysterious~ Events

🌌Midnight book club: Discuss The Picture of Dorian Gray while snacking fancy cheese (that’s probably expired). Discussion theme: Would You Sell Your Soul for Good Skin?

💐Blind Date with a Book: Wrap books in craft paper and write clues like "This will ruin your life <3" or "The author definitely faked their death."

🔮Literary Séance: Summon the ghosts of dead authors (Ouija board optional). Ask Hemingway for writing advice, Plath for life advice (do not), and Shakespeare to explain what "wherefore art thou" actually means. Vibe: Dim lighting, a single flickering candle, and a playlist of "Ethereal Medieval Chanting."

STEP 5: Embrace the Aesthetic Struggles

💦 Leaky roof? Call it "ambient water feature."

🐌Slow business? Blame capitalism and/or the zodiac. ("Mercury retrograde killed our sales, not my refusal to stock James Patterson.")

😟Existential dread? Redirect customers to the "Self-Help/Self-Destruction" section (it’s the same shelf).

STEP 6: Live the Fantasy

📒Keep a guestbook: Have patrons scribble secrets, doodles, or their ex’s ID number. (Legally, this is probably fine.)

📰Start a newsletter: Title it "Overdue & Over It" with hot takes like "Why Tolstoy Needed a Nap" and "Ranking Dickens Heroes by Who Could Fix Me."

🤷 When in doubt: Re-read Days at the Morisaki Bookshop and sigh dramatically into a cup of oversteeped tea.

Monetization Tips (For When Reality Hits)

💸 Sell "Tears of Literary Greats" merch (just eyedropper bottles of saline). Market them as "For When You Finish The Burning God at 3 AM."

💸 "Pay to Pet the Cat": Charge visitors $5 for 5 minutes with your aloof bookstore cat ("Poe ignores everyone equally, it’s a premium experience."). Upsell: "$10 if you want him to pretend to like you (we’ll sprinkle catnip)."

💸 Offer "Rent-A-Bookshop" experiences for Instagram influencers. Charge extra if they want to hold a cat for aesthetic.

💸"Pretend You Work Here" Experience: Let customers live the dream of being a bookseller for an hour ($25/hr). They get to: Smirk at people who ask for "the next Twilight." "Accidentally" mis-shelve Eat Pray Love in Horror. Judge someone’s "to-be-read" pile to their face.

💸"Overpriced Mystery Bags" with themes like "DNFs of the Damned" ($15 for 3 books someone else gave up on), "Books That Will Make Your Therapist Sigh" ($20 no refunds), "The Ulysses Bundle" ($5 to take it off our hands).

Final Warning

This may result in strangers showing up at your door asking for "the usual" and your soul slowly merging with the wooden shelves. Worth it.

Tag your future bookshop location below! Drop a 📚 in the comments if you’d quit your 9-5 for this delulu dream.