On a Monday afternoon in downtown Ringgold, the streets are quiet. Many of the smaller restaurants and shops are shuttered and waiting until Tuesday to stir. But inside Book & Barrel, energy builds as the day wanes. While the mornings drag, the evenings crackle with conversation: book clubs crowd around tables, aspiring poets test their lines before strangers and someone strums a guitar at an open mic.
“Most of our business happens after four,” says co-owner and founder Rhonda Swaney, a speech therapist by training who never imagined herself running a bookstore and wine bar.
“Mondays are slow, but then we have open mic night, and the book clubs come in. That’s when the place comes alive.”
For a town not known for its nightlife or literary scene, Book & Barrel has become something rare – a space where books, wine and community intersect. And behind it all is a woman who insists she wasn’t much of a reader and doesn’t know wine – but does know people.
An idea is born
The seed for Book & Barrel came to Swaney unexpectedly.
“I went to bed one night and woke up the next morning thinking, ‘Somebody needs to open a bookstore and wine bar in Ringgold,’” she recalls. “And then I thought, ‘Why not us?’”
It wasn’t a logical leap. Neither she nor her husband, Troy Walker, had any retail experience. Both worked in education – she as a speech therapist in Dalton Public Schools and Walker in other academic roles. They were used to classrooms and case notes, not distributors and inventory systems. But Swaney’s instincts were strong.
At the time, she was also serving her second term on Ringgold’s city council. She’d entered politics hoping to connect people, but instead found the arena divisive.
“I went into politics wanting to make a difference in people’s lives, but there’s none of that,” she says, her frustration written across her face.
Books and wine, she realized, could accomplish what politics had not.
Building community
When Book & Barrel opened in June, the mission wasn’t simply to sell things. It was to create a place where people feel less alone.
“What better way to connect people than through literature and wine?” Swaney asks. “It opens a platform for dialogue.”
The space reflects that mission. There’s bar seating and cozy armchairs. Tables for four. The vibe is more living room than retail.
The shop’s walls are painted a soothing green – chosen, Swaney says, to “neurologically bring you down a notch.” Stained glass by a local artist catches sunlight in the windows. Plants from a Ringgold hobbyist brighten the shelves, and in a corner, handmade goods from local artisans find buyers.
“If I could monetize watching people connect, I’d be a millionaire,” Swaney laughs.
The revenue streams are real enough. Roughly 60% of sales at Book & Barrel come from books, 30% from wine and beer and the remaining 10% from events – lectures, workshops, book clubs and author visits.
When it comes to curating shelves, Swaney has a method: She leans on the American Booksellers Association’s weekly indie bestseller list, then supplements it with several hours of research on BookTok – a corner of TikTok devoted to literary recommendations.
“Books that are trending on BookTok sell out instantly,” she says, pointing to “Slewfoot,” a historical-horror blend she’s reordered three times because it keeps vanishing.
On the flip side, self-help books sit untouched.
“For whatever reason, people here don’t want nonfiction. They want escape – romance, thrillers, horror.”
Local history also sells. The store’s bestseller is “The Zenith Man,” an account of a case that unfolded in Ringgold. The book’s author, attorney McCracken Poston Jr., stops in almost daily.
Book clubs dictate much of the demand. The shop hosts 15 different clubs, with horror leading the pack, followed by “romantasy” (a blend of romance and fantasy) and thrillers. There are even two banned book clubs, where titles like “The Hate U Give” and “The Handmaid’s Tale” find eager readers.
Wine also flows by the glass, but the owners are a far cry from sommeliers.
“We know nothing about wine,” Swaney admits. Instead, they stock based on customer feedback, emphasizing Georgia vineyards and hard-to-find labels unavailable in grocery stores.
The model works: every bingo night requires a beverage purchase – and most attendees opt for wine. Twice a month, the shop is packed with more than 60 people filling cards between sips.
“It’s not about being wine experts,” Swaney says. “It’s about creating an atmosphere where people feel comfortable.”
Busier than expected
At first, the couple braced for a slow burn. Everyone warned it would take a year before the shop turned a profit. But then their daughter started a TikTok account for the store. A few videos went viral, with some reaching 40,000 views. Suddenly, customers poured in from Chattanooga, Dalton and beyond.
“We were having a hard time keeping up,” she recalls. “People were like, ‘You’re opening a bookstore in Ringgold?’ But we tapped into something the public wanted.”
Beyond commerce, Book & Barrel has become a refuge for those navigating loneliness – especially women, says Swaney. Mahjong afternoons and book discussions have spawned friendships and dinner groups.
“We didn’t market it that way, but it’s happened naturally.”
Open mic nights give local singers a stage. Poetry nights draw dreamers into the spotlight. One young veteran even leads a men’s sci-fi club called Books, Barrels and Bros, which is currently reading the “Dungeon Crawler Carl” series.
The shop has also hosted Holocaust survivors, rabbis and local authors for talks – bringing voices to Ringgold that might otherwise never be heard.
Juggling two jobs hasn’t been easy. Swaney starts her day at the shop before heading to Dalton for her speech therapy duties, then returns to Book & Barrel until close.
“I called my husband the other night and said, ‘Am I a workaholic? Because I love this.’ He said, ‘No, you’ve finally found something you love to do.’”
That love is leading her to a major decision: retiring from education at the end of the school year. By next summer, Swaney plans to dedicate herself fully to Book & Barrel.
Though nearby Fort Oglethorpe has courted Swaney to open a second location, she’s cautious.
“We can’t stay ahead of this one,” she says. “But maybe down the road, I could help another entrepreneur do it.”
For now, her focus is on sustaining Book & Barrel and nurturing its growing community.
Many visitors walk in, look around and say, “This is what I’ve always wanted to do.” To them, Swaney offers encouragement.
“I was 50 when we started. It’s never too late.”
In a world dominated by Amazon and chain bookstores, what keeps Book & Barrel afloat isn’t low prices or massive selection. It’s connection.
“People can order a book on Amazon for the same price we pay wholesale,” Swaney acknowledges. “But there’s no friendship there. Here, people know your name. They ask about your life. You feel less alone.”
That ethos radiates from the shelves.
“People are hungry for escape, community and dialogue,” Swaney says. “And somehow, we’ve built a place that gives them those things.”