First Light Books

This week .

THANK YOU! The third annual First Light Block Party was a roaring, delicious, delight filled 9 hrs. To all the bands, vendors, authors, neighbors, friends, readers, and the stellar FL team — kudos!

Airbrush tee fans, we’ll be making your dreams come true tmrw (Sat) thanks to our friends Reese’s Book Club // The airbrush session is from 4–7 PM. Only 75 shirts available! Shirts will be $20. Four designs posted above.

If you’re interested in joining the Austin chapter of Reese’s Book Club see our Stories for a link to sign up. 📚

The stage is set, the passages are picked. This Saturday we have an incredible group of authors reading at the First Light Block Party.

The full lineup includes:
- Sarah Bird
- Jennifer Chang
- Pamela Colloff
- Mary Helen Specht

Don’t miss some of our favorite local writers take the mic, RSVP for the Block Party at the link in our bio.

(Shoutout to .a.flores in the pic for a great reading at the very first block party two years ago!)

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: We’re hosting Richard Osman next Friday 🕵️‍♂️🫆🐈‍⬛✈️

As one of the preeminent mystery writers today, Richard’s stories are lauded for their witty humor, heartfelt nature, and suspenseful plots. You probably know him from his world-renowned THURSDAY MURDER CLUB series which was recently adapted into a Netflix film. He’s coming through town on Friday the 25th to celebrate the release of his latest mystery novel, WE CHASE SHADOWS, and we’re thrilled to be hosting the book talk and signing. Be sure to RSVP at the link in our bio to secure your spot.

“When my family moved to Hyde Park in 1984, kids at school called me 'Bookworm,' and I needed a willing adult to get to a bookstore. Now I’m back in Hyde Park, full grown, and the neighborhood has First Light. Living so close, I think of First Light (perhaps erroneously) as an extension of my house. I don’t have to brush my hair before I go there, wrinkled clothes are okay too, though I draw the line at pajamas.

8:30 am: I stop by for a cup of drip coffee (free with my First Light membership!), run into Dave Courtney, aka The Texanist. He writes a column for Texas Monthly answering reader queries about the Lone Star State. “Have you ever gotten a question about how banana pudding ended up a staple at Texas barbeque joints?” I ask. When he says he hasn’t, I decide he will, and soon.

2pm: After a writing session, I take a break, head back to First Light. Another free drip coffee, a quick study of the booksellers’ glorious displays.

6pm: My last visit of the day: an author reading. The place is packed. I hug old friends, meet new ones. Learn some things. Laugh until my sides hurt.

Does going to First Light three times a day seem excessive? I’m an author, a former indie bookseller. So maybe it’s logical enough. Or maybe I’m just letting my Inner Child (aka Bookworm) run the show. Either way, it makes for a nice life.” —MARY PAULINE LOWRY, author of Last Night Was Killer

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Over the next few weeks, we'll be sharing short notes from the local writers who are also First Light members. Thanks to for her kind words and making FL her second living room!

There was only one Annie Dillard. Her optic heart and mind alighted, always, like Michelangelo and Merton and Carson and Thoreau. Keep your eyes open, she wrote and lived. We will read her and remember her fondly. 

‘Before me the creek is seventeen feet wide, splashing over random sandstone outcroppings and scattered rocks. I’m lucky; the creek is loud here, because of the rocks, and wild. In the low water of summer and fall I can cross to the opposite bank by leaping from stone to stone. Upstream is a wall of light split into planks by smooth sandstone ledges that cross the creek evenly, like steps. Downstream the live water before me stills, dies suddenly as if extinguished, and vanishes around a bend shaded summer and winter by overarching tulips, locusts, and Osage orange. Everywhere I look are Creekside trees whose ascending boles against water and grass accent the vertical thrust of the land in this spot. The creek rests the eye, a haven, a breast; the two steep banks vault from the creek like wings. Not even the sycamore’s crown can peek over the land in any direction.
       My friend Rosanne Coggeshall, the poet, says that “sycamore” is the most intrinsically beautiful word in English. This sycamore is old; its lower bark is always dusty from years of flood waters lapping up its trunk. Like many sycamores, too, it is quirky, given to flights and excursions. Its trunk lists over the creek at a dizzying angle, and from that trunk extends a long, skinny limb that spurts high over the opposite bank without branching. The creek reflects the speckled surface of this limb, pale even against the highest clouds, and that image pales whiter and thins as it crosses the creek, shatters in the riffles and melds together, quivering and mottled, like some enormous primeval reptile under the water.
       I want to think about trees. Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive us, that outlive the sun, even, but I can’t think about them. I live with trees.’ 

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1974

Come hungry to the Block Party 🍕🌭🌮 🍺

From the best pizza slices in town to the first-ever First Light b**r, we pulled out all the stops to toast another incredible year of your favorite neighborhood bookshop next Saturday the 26th. Do us (and our vendors) a solid by RSVP’ing to the Block Party at the link in our bio so we know how much food we’re serving up. The party’s less than two weeks out and we can’t wait to celebrate with y'all!