Some Barnes & Nobles have escalators. Amazon has drones. Miranda Atkins had a potato chip truck and a community that still wanted to read. That was enough.
Before the truck, there was a small retail space in Ooltewah and a simple idea: give people a place to find good books and talk about them. Atkins opened A Little Bookish in 2018 after leaving her job in an elementary school. The timing lined up with a personal crossroads and a well-timed novel.
“I was reading this Jenny Colgan book – “The Bookshop on the Corner” – about a librarian who loses her job and opens a mobile bookstore,” she says. “It was totally made up, but I was like, ‘If I could do anything, that’s what I’d do.’”
So she did. With help from her husband, Atkins opened a small shop filled with fiction, candles, mugs – “bookish things,” as she puts it – and slowly built a community around stories.
That changed in 2020.
The COVID-19 pandemic hit just as Atkins was about to renew her lease.
“We didn’t feel comfortable signing another three-year lease at the beginning of a pandemic,” she says. “We had no idea how long that was going to go.”
Atkins watched food trucks thrive as restaurants closed.
“They were like, ‘We’ll bring the food to you,’” she says. “And I thought, ‘What if we did that with books?’”
So Atkins bought a truck. Not a flashy delivery van – just an old Cape Cod potato chip truck, barely converted.
“We put all of our shelves that were in our store in it, packed it full of books and took it out to neighborhoods,” Atkins says. “People would come out – one at a time – and shop right off the truck.”
Atkins did that exclusively for two years.
“It kept us going.”
Books on wheels
The bookmobile didn’t just fill the gap left by the closed store. It created an entirely new way to serve readers, one that stuck around even after restrictions lifted.
“It really did work as a business model,” Atkins says. “It’s a novelty. You don’t see that everywhere.”
Even though online shopping surged during lockdown, it didn’t fully replace local bookstores – especially not when Amazon started deprioritizing book shipments.
“People weren’t out shopping, and Amazon was so overloaded with orders that they weren’t getting their books quickly,” Atkins says. “That was actually good news for us little independent bookstores.”
She even hand-delivered books to porches when she had to.
“We did whatever we could do to sell a book at that time.”
But it wasn’t just about logistics. The truck let Atkins connect directly with readers – no screen, no algorithm, no warehouse in between.
“I can talk to people,” she says. “I can recommend something I’ve actually read. If I don’t like a book, I’ll tell you.”
What’s inside the truck
The truck’s layout is tight but carefully curated – a mix of new releases, backlist favorites and whatever genres are dominating conversation.
“We have a little bit of everything for everybody – adult fiction, young adult, children’s,” Atkins says. “We fluctuate with whatever is popular at the time.”
When she started the business, thrillers were dominant.
“That’s what everyone was reading,” she says. “Now I struggle to sell a thriller.”
Today, the shelves are heavy with romantasy.
“People want ‘Fourth Wing’ by Rebecca Yarros. They want ‘A Court of Thorns and Roses’ by Sarah Maas. They want fun stories that don’t stress them out.”
The truck adapts quickly to trends – something a larger store or chain would struggle to do.
One of the popular features inside the store is the Blind Date with a Book shelf – a small display of wrapped books with handwritten summaries, no titles or covers visible.
“Usually it’s a book that’s been sitting around for a while, but I liked it and want it to get a little more attention,” Atkins says. “Or maybe it has a boring cover. Or maybe I ordered too many copies for a book club.”
Each one comes with a bookmark pen and sticky notes or page tabs. Atkins says it’s a low-pressure way for readers to discover something unexpected.
“People love to try something new, but they do judge books by the cover,” she says. “I do it. Everyone does.”
Reopening the store
In 2022, after two years of running the business entirely out of the truck, Atkins reopened A Little Bookish in a new location – a smaller retail space next to an Ooltewah gym. The opportunity came through a book club member who worked in the building and knew the space was about to become available.
Atkins jumped on it.
Even with the storefront open again, the bookmobile didn’t stop. It simply became one-half of the operation – equal parts pop-up, outreach and marketing.
“We do a lot of pop-ups around the area,” she says. “Follow our social media – that’s where we post where we’ll be.”
Atkins jokes about adding a GPS tracker to the truck so people can follow it around town.
“We have a dream that there could be a little map that shows where it is,” she laughs. “But we park it at our house, so that wouldn’t be OK.”
The book club engine
Long before the truck, A Little Bookish was built on book clubs. That hasn’t changed.
“We’re a book club-based store,” Atkins says. “That’s what kept us going through the pandemic. They’re set up to create real community, real friendships.”
Each club is run through a private Facebook group. Members are assigned a book and then meet in person – usually for dinner – to talk it over.
“They keep multiplying,” Atkins says. “I’m personally in four of them.”
That community has turned into something more than just discussion groups. One story stands out:
“We had a friend who was trying to adopt a baby, and we fundraised so she and her husband could travel out of state to pick up the baby,” she says. “We started as a book club, but now they’re friends for life.”
The takeaway
Whether someone finds A Little Bookish parked beside a sidewalk, at a market or inside its brick-and-mortar store, Atkins wants the same thing.
“I want them to feel joy,” she says. “I want them to feel like they made a connection with somebody who has something in common with them.”
She isn’t pursuing profit margins or growth targets. She’s chasing conversations.
“I’m not going to get rich doing this,” she says. “At most I’m breaking even. But to me, it’s about having a place in our community where people can see the book, read a page or two and decide if it’s for them.”
Still rolling
Five years after opening A Little Bookish, Atkins runs both a cozy storefront and a truck full of books – both carrying the same philosophy: keep it small, keep it personal and don’t pretend books are just products.
She’s seen some interesting orders along the way.
“Someone ordered a two-volume set called ‘One Nation Under Blackmail’ – about the Epstein files,” she says. “They ordered it before that became a popular topic, but after the political tides around the topic shifted, they never came to pick it up.”
But most people who find their way to her truck are just looking for a good story. And they often leave with more than one.
“We need small, independent bookstores,” Atkins says. “We need more than just me. We need them in every city.”
For now, in and around Chattanooga, there’s at least one that will come to readers.