Fair Oaks Books

06/03/2026

Greetings!

Freedom seems to be on everyone’s mind at the moment. What it is. How we hold on to it. How it beds down with power. The sacrifice it requires. How it allows us to be who we are. In this months’ Selma Times Journal column I'm touting a book —and an event—perfect for these troubled times..

Here goes!

What if you had the chance to escape for a while? What would you do?
Probably not what author Sebastian Junger did. 51 years old, childless, facing divorce, with successes such as The Perfect Storm far in the past, he took off with his dog and a few friends on a 400-mile-walk along the railroad tracks of Pennsylvania to see if he could find his footing again.
I’m happy he made the effort. Freedom, the slim volume that came out of this adventure, is like one of those triple-decker club sandwiches you get at The Sandbar. It’s a pure pleasure to bite into, so to speak, but it’s a mouthful. The book serves up layer upon layer of information. When Junger isn’t running a sailcloth thread through his blisters to help them drain, he’s sharing research that weaves through stories about Dublin’s Easter Rising, the Ottoman Empire’s invasion of Montenegro, the conquistador Coronado gobbling up chunks of Texas, and Geronimo pillaging his way around western Pennsylvania long before it was the Keystone State. Add to these tales more facts about gender contradictions in running track, pro boxing strategies, and some of the grislier episodes of the Mongol Horde, and you understand why some readers take some time to finish their sandwich.
Weaving through all these stories are big questions about what it means to be free. Is freedom dependent on a sense of community? Is it the product of being feared? Does it demand suffering and sacrifice? Does it require courage? Is it the antithesis of power? Does wealth destroy freedom? Or is freedom simply the ability to walk away from it all?
And, significantly: what is happening to freedom in this country?
These are whopper-sized questions that Junger serves up as you’re barreling alongside him down the railroad tracks. His foot-level perspective flattens and lengthens the journey into a dramatic obstacle course. Railroads turn into steel snakes slithering through towns and fields, bringing dark surprises and, occasionally, a good Samaritan.
It’s a fine kind of sandwich, full of the writerly bravado Hemingway would have applauded and written in vivid, precise language that goes everywhere, all at once, fast.
I’d like you to get to know Junger’s great escape for yourself and to talk about what freedom means in these chaotic times. I’ve invited one of my favorite readers, Vietnam vet and Selma attorney Elliott “Skip” Barker, to introduce you to Freedom on Tuesday, June 23, 7 p.m., at 626 Union Street. Stop by and enjoy an hour of thoughtful conversation in the best possible way—sipping a beverage in a relaxing atmosphere with some of Selma’s most interesting people.

05/07/2026

This month's Selma Times-Journal opinion column,, Hooked on Books. Apologies in advance to lovers of Theo of Golden.

Thoughts on Theo

Is it my imagination, or have more than a few local women fallen in love with Theo of Golden? If so, they’re joining a long line of ardent fans. A quick read-through of Amazon’s customer reviews would lead you to believe more female hearts have been warmed by the book’s 400 pages than the last time Mitch Albom published anything. These warmed hearts have fueled a sizzling word-of-mouth, pushing sales of the novel past the million-sales mark and locking it on the New York Times bestseller list—three years after it was published. Book-club members here, there, and everywhere have opened their tear ducts—and purses—to it.
By all rights, none of this should have happened. A first-time writing effort from Allen Levi, a retired, small-town Georgia lawyer, Theo has no best-seller staples: dead bodies, seedy love triangles, or warring aliens. The title character is a mysterious old man who arrives with a secret one day in the small Southern town and is charmed by some drawings on the wall of a local coffee shop. He likes them so much that he decides to give them back to their subjects as gifts. In doing so, he befriends the residents, shares their stories of grief and resilience, and, going by percentages, heals more lost souls than Buddha and Ghandi combined.
And now I’m going to step in it.
I’ve tried at least three times to lose myself in Mr. Levi’s well-intentioned and gracious book and failed each time. These failures bothered me enough that I thought I’d try and lay out why.
I might have failed because, after promising a secret at the beginning and a surprise at the end, most of the plot is a list--a long, long, list--of the residents’ individual stories. Story follows story follows story, told in prose that, from its uniform rhythm, steady pacing, and consistency of tone, is the literary equivalent of warm milk. Or AI.
Or maybe I’ve failed because that same plot structure—and prose—seem to flatten the characters into caricatures. Theo himself is so unrelievedly kind and good that, somewhere around page 300, I was ready for him to take a pratfall. (My preferences for Jesus-like figures in popular culture lean toward Ted Lasso.)
I’ve possibly failed because of simple professional envy. Mr. Levi’s book is not only a smash, but a smash with legs. Compared to the millions of Theo sales, my last book is gathering dust in a warehouse. It’s enough to make a person bitter.
Ultimately, however, I’ve most likely failed because, along with most male readers, I’m not drawn to the gentle joys and soulful empathy which thrill so many women reading this book. Whatever we men are reading these days, we don’t seem to be reading for empathy, let alone joy.
And that particular failure is both sad and dangerous.

D.B.Tipmore is the owner of Fair Oaks Books in Selma and the author of My Little Town. His new book, Barefoot Boy, is coming out this fall. He can be reached at [email protected]

04/02/2026

Hi, everyone,

Below is the latest entry of Hooked on Books, which appeared in an "altered" version in this week's Selma Times-Journal:

Title: Isn't it Iconic?

It’s everywhere, like litter.
That word iconic.
Iconic books. Iconic islands. Iconic films and buildings and speeches and singers and mountains and—you get the point.
Clearly, we live in an iconic world. (I recently heard the word used four times on a recent podcast.)
Have you ever noticed whenever a word becomes popular, it loses its power? Take another look at the verbs you see in today’s headlines.
Shock. Rip. Target. Cancel. Skewer. Attack. Stun.
And the newest favorite: obliterate.
These verbs fit nicely with iconic. They’re just as bloated and shrill.
And, thanks to their over-use, just as powerless.
Been there, heard that.
We know all about mission creep in war. (We might be living through it now.)
What we’re dealing with here is meaning creep, when a word’s use exceeds its grasp.
We pulled iconic out of the thesaurus, after all, to juice up awesome and amazing and incredible and fabulous and the latest competitor, epic, even as these words are already becoming old hat. So now we seem to be upping the ante. Since fabulous seems incapable of capturing the indescribable wonderfulness of, say, a Lainie’s BBQ Platter or a Gulf Shores getaway, we add a little more intensity. Really iconic. Totally awesome. Absolutely amazing. Truly fabulous.
The way we talk to each other is now so inflated and extreme—no, it’s super-extreme, it’s hyper-extreme—that we have nowhere to go but crazy. Or maybe obsessed. Or even insance, our latest version of a compliment.
The longer we traffic in these exhausted words, the more quickly we erode our capacity to think. Don’t believe me? Here’s motivational coach Tony Robins on the subject: “Simply by changing your everyday vocabulary, you can instantaneously change how you think, how you feel, and how you live.” Or (slightly mad) philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein: “All I know is what I have words for.” Ditto from American idol Joan Didion: “The ability to express ourselves determines our ability to think.” Or finally, the writer Maggie Stievater: “People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper.”
Hard to deny there’s a whole lot of shouting going on these days.
So where do you go to find some new words?
Books, of course! Pick your medium—kindle, audio, zine, hardcover, whatever. Pick your genre--fantasy, romance, sci-fi, history. You name it. Anything with words that might halt this troubling meaning creep and connect you to some new words with fresh views of the world. J.K. Rowling. Mark Twain. Toni Morrison. Tolkien. James Baldwin. Open your ears to their voices and attitudes. Jack London’s voice in White Fang. Salinger’s in Catcher in the Rye. Ralph Ellison’s in Invisible Man. Dr. Suess’s in The Cat in the Hat. George Orwell’s in 1984. John Kennedy Toole’s in A Confederacy of Dunces.
Most of these books are easy enough to find in the library. You might even find one of them coated with a little dust on your own bookshelves. Either way, within their pages, I bet you’ll find a word or two that might turn out to be, well, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Or, at the very least, iconic.

D.B.Tipmore is the author of My Little Town. His novel, Barefoot Boy, will be published in the fall by Rattling Good Yarns Press. He can be reached at [email protected]

03/30/2026

Once a month, I'll be doing a little flag-flying for books and reading in a Times-Journal column called "Hooked on Books." Here's the first one:

https://www.selmatimesjournal.com/opinion/hooked-on-books-bookworms-unite-046de5cc

Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to comment--

Let’s face facts. We all have our addictions. Maybe yours is shopping. Or college football. Or thrift stores. Or those fabulicious 5&Dime cakes sold every Tuesday at the bakery. For me, it’s books. Give me a book, an actual bound book with pages you can dog-ear, and I’m a goner.

01/20/2026

Had enough of the news? Fair Oaks Books has just the solution: fantasy. Happy fantasy. Romantasy. Dystopian fantasy. We're drowning in the stuff. Just look at the pics. And there's much more where that came from. And at a great price! Come in, have a coffee, and escape for a bit. We all need it. (BTW, we'll be closed Thursday and Saturday this week)

12/23/2025

For reluctant or crunch-time shoppers, Fair Oaks Books will be open Tuesday and Wednesday, Dec. 23 and 24, 12-3. Stocking stuffers and mystery gifts galore!

11/24/2025

Add a dash of weird and wonderful to your Thanksgiving week with a visit to Fair Oaks Books (open 626 Union St, Wed-Fri-Sat, 12-3). You want out of the ordinary? Biographies of Caligula and Duck Dynasty’s Phil Robertson. Young Adult bestsellers Eloise and the Church Choir Mysteries. 100 Menacing Little Murder Stories. Hard-to-find kids’ classics Frawg and Pappy King. The one-and-only children's book by the one-and-only James Baldwin. An impossible-to-find first edition of Poe’s The Raven. An entire shelf of Kathryn Windham. Charles Manson’s frightening pamphlet Your Children. Plus coffee and comfy couches and cool conversation! A win-win for everyone, right? See you soon!

10/24/2025

Fair Oaks Books was lucky enough to get "Witch Kay" to stop by for our Annual Halloween Reading Circle. Everyone listened as she read stories about spooky pumpkins and goblins and mummies. Then, they picked up their treat bags and gift books and gathered on the front steps to sing a few songs. What better way to usher in the Haunted Holiday Season!

09/12/2025

Busy, busy, busy at Fair Oaks Books! The mid-week visit from big-time Alabama literati, Dr. Norman McMillan (Distant Son, The Gold-Plated Scarab) and his sister Julia McMillan Walker (Fireball), counted as a highlight of the year. (Copies of all books available.) On Saturday (tomorrow), Selma resident Sherry Suttles is on hand from 1-3 pm to sign copies of her new profile of black-owned and operated Atlantic Beach in South Carolina. No moss-gathering here!

09/03/2025

Want a true story guaranteed to pop the eyes right out of your head? Meet Fireball, aka Hazel Lamb. Eleven husbands. Field-plower, timber-cutter, hog-raiser, buck-dancer, cutter-upper. Brought back from the dead by her mother after Husband #7 tried to choke her, ... well, you can't make this stuff up. And she lived to tell about it all to Greensboro author Julia McMillan Walker in this lively little book. Which even has a happy ending. And whch is here, on the shelf at Fair Oaks Books! Right beside it are the (very) few remaining copies of Susan Besser's mightily praised Selma's Architectural Legacy. Make me have to reorder some more!