Nia Sioux pirouettes along the line of refreshing truth and self validation in her memoir Bottom of the Pyramid, sharpening each point of this multi-sided answer. 

Released on Tuesday, the book is practically a horror novel. A former child star on the reality series Dance Moms, Sioux recounts the Abby Lee Dance Company and its atmosphere of bullying and racial discrimination that she grew up with. 

While some of the other dancers on choreographer Abby Lee Miller’s competition team have also published memoirs, Sioux’s is the only one to strike back against her perpetrators. 

Anyone who claims to have once loved Dance Moms is in for a media literacy audit. Yes, reality TV is not meant to be reliable, but while Bottom of the Pyramid provides context to the moms’ infamous on-screen faceoffs, anyone who cared enough to read between the lines could’ve predicted this book a decade ago. 

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The book begins with a foreword by a fellow Dance Moms child star, Chloe Lukasiak, whispering over the notable political points. Though sentimental while giving Sioux her flowers, it was mediocre. It felt like she didn’t read the book herself and just wrote the most generic thing she could. She explained her personal perspective, but I cannot say it was moving. It was too brief to budge me. 

Nevertheless, Bottom of the Pyramid reads easily, flowing well out of necessity of its heavy subject matter.

Sioux recovers in the following introduction, explaining her scarred thought process behind the book’s title. Miller would rank the dancers’ performance weekly, with their headshots taped in a pyramid formation on a wall. She belittled whoever found themselves at the bottom as the weakest link. 

This was often Sioux, every week. In the book, she equates the bottom of the pyramid to be the strongest piece. The pyramid itself wouldn’t exist without it — those at the top couldn’t appreciate the skyline without the foundation’s support. 

“I’ve always known one important reality: When you’re at the bottom, the only place you can go is up,” Sioux wrote.

Her mother was a dancer and her parents signed her up at Miller’s dance studio out of pure convenience for its location. Neither knew the gasoline they were purchasing when investing in lessons with Miller. 

Sioux calls Miller’s presence “tremendous,” describing her to be “loud, big, and usually draped in black.” Miller forced her to wear yellow, Sioux writes, insisting that Black people look best in yellow. 

Sioux’s favorite color is pink.

Most dancers at the studio were scared of Miller, and Sioux makes it clear this memoir is not meant to be kind in Miller’s characterization as a “real live Miss Trunchbull from Matilda.”

Recounting countless incidents such as racially charged remarks, age-inappropriate gifts and routines, body shaming, social ostracism, screaming matches, career sabotage, crafted rivalries, instigated meltdowns and manipulated footage — Sioux sheds light on Lifetime feeding kindling to the dance company dumpster fire for ratings.

Again, anyone who paid any sort of attention knew this already. Miller would play nice for the camera when she could be bothered, but her nasally compliments never felt genuine, no matter the meaningful back score the producers would slap on the final edit. Part of the drama was that the audience knew the scale was rigged and production was corrupt. Every once in a while, Sioux would get thrown a sympathy bone, and the audience would rally behind the underdog character that the producers made out of her. 

This book added shocking context to some of the things the audience didn’t see, but those who actually paid attention can skip it. The episodes tell on themselves.

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Holly Frazier didn’t remove her daughter from the studio because of their tricky contract with Lifetime and because of Sioux’s relentless determination to keep going. She stayed on Dance Moms for seven seasons, from ages nine to 15, appearing longer than any other dancer.

Dancing between to stay or to go meant that Sioux’s pirouettes were across hot coals, both then and now. Then, she stayed and grew thicker soles. Now, she writes that she does not regret what shaped her.

There was warmth there, Sioux insists, friendships and memories and irreplaceable character development. 

And the cover is gorgeous. Sioux sits in a vibrant yellow dress among a memorial of her old dance costumes, triumphant. 

While apps like TikTok and Instagram can provide a dash of much-needed escapism during exam season, they rarely leave you feeling better. Instead, reading offers a quick break from studying without the inescapable vortex of scrolling. If you’re going to procrastinate, you might as well do something productive. 

Here are five books to pull you away from your phone and give your brain a break. 

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

If you’re missing the drama and chaos that comes with your feed, you’ll love this book. A true cornerstone of dark academic literature, Tartt’s 1992 inverted detective novel is an ideal read for all the moody fall vibes. 

Following a group of eccentric classics students at an elite Vermont university, the book examines their lives unraveling after a murder. Intriguing and unsettling, The Secret History is the perfect dose of mystery and suspense to get you through that chem exam.

Eve’s Hollywood by Eve Babitz

For anyone craving an escape from overcast skies and dull classroom interiors, consider a trip to the glitz and mystique of 1960s Los Angeles via Eve’s Hollywood. Babitz’ memoir captures a city carefree and alive through vivid, evocative prose.

From sandy days at the beach to the halls of Hollywood High, Babitz offers a world that’s part nostalgia and part sun-soaked reverie — the perfect getaway.

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A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Ditch campus chaos for rugged trails and lush forests in A Walk in the Woods, Bryson’s narrative of life along the Appalachian Trail. It’s procrastination you won’t regret — the kind that comes with immersive storytelling instead of the repetitive lull of your TikTok for you page.

Bryson expertly captures the misadventures of hiking with wit, humor and contemplation, turning the trail itself into a story. Forget study guides and screens; this book offers views they never could. 

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Adams takes readers on a whimsical voyage through distant planets, blending absurdity with entertainment and some oddly wise takes on the madness of existence in this iconic novel.

This book offers a world entirely unpredictable and endlessly enjoyable, the intergalactic shenanigans serving as the ultimate escape from day-to-day life. It’s a wild ride that only requires a sense of humor, a drive for adventure and, of course, a towel.

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Emma by Jane Austen

If your idea of fall romance exists in daydreams or nostalgic movies, Austen’s classic tale of the regency matchmaking is sure to satisfy the craving for fall feels. 

The story is equal parts comedy and personal insight, jam-packed with clever schemes, social faux pas and heartwarming resolutions. It perfectly captures the hopeless yearning feeling of fall. With flirtation, mischief and wisdom, Emma is the perfect book to read as the temperatures dip. If you’ve ever been a fan of Clueless, you’ll love its source material. 

The event featured authors including Angie Cruz, Jaquira Díaz, Caro De Robertis and Lilliam Rivera, who have written highly celebrated and awarded books such as Dominicana, Ordinary Girls, Cantoras and Never Look Back. The group visited this university to talk about their work and share advice for students. 

Randy Ontiveros and Sarah Humud, the director and associate director of Honors Humanities, organized the event. They hoped the authors’ sharing their experience could jumpstart students to tell their own stories. 

“We [Honors Humanities] always bring in each year, one spring speaker who we hope will inspire students and get them thinking and engage their creative works,” Humud said.

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With four speakers this year, the topics ranged vastly from thought process to creative work, as each panelist discussed their writing process and personal lives —  from drug use to complicated family relationships. 

The event —  which featured a lunch with the authors and a formal panel at the Ulrich Recital Hall in Tawes Hall — sparked raw, personal and notable conversations about storytelling and the importance of Latinx representation in literature.

Díaz spoke to The Diamondback about her memoir Ordinary Girls, and said how important it was for her to “engage young people in conversation,” on sensitive issues. 

Her braveness to talk about her sexual trauma and unstable upbringing was an active choice, one that she hoped would have a meaningful impact. 

“I really wanted for young people to read the book and understand that we can and should talk about it, that it’s not our shame to carry,” she said.

Over an intimate lunch, authors were able to mingle and chat with students and faculty, with some carrying a book they hoped could be autographed. Díaz and the other authors discussed the hardships of writing about draining topics and the frustrations with having to be the ones to create narratives from an immigrant or Latinx perspective.

For Cruz, the arts have always been “undervalued” but that shouldn’t stop people from making it.

“You should make the art you want to make … regardless of how other people feel about it,” Cruz said.  

Coming from someone who makes a living from storytelling and pure creativity, Díaz validated the burgeoning artists and writers in the audience in a big way. 

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The candor and intensity with which Díaz spoke in the lunch was not only moving, but deeply thought-provoking. Alongside her other authors, the conversation brought a renewed value for creativity and storytelling to the crowd.

In a world of book banning and censorship, these authors who made up the El Gran Combo are fighting the good fight with their literature, and are encouraging students to do the same. 

“We need you to write these stories. We need them, we need them, we need them,” Cruz said. 

Miles always thought nobody wanted to hear about her own experience being the first in her immediate family to go to college. But one recent comment from an author she interviewed stuck with her.

“La’Tonya, you should tell the story that you needed when you were in college,” Miles recalls the author telling her.

Just a short time later, on Feb. 25, 2025, Miles published “Smart Girl: A First-Gen Origin Story,” her new memoir.

In it, she reflects on her transformative path navigating challenges and triumphs as the first in her immediate family to go to a college.

“I often get frustrated when I see movies or read other books where someone has made it to college and then the movie ends. Like, well what happened?” Miles said. “I wanted to tell a little bit more of, well, what happened once I got to college, and then what happened when I went on to graduate school? Because I didn’t stop being first gen to college.”

She opens up about bouncing between nine different schools and how she was often told she was smart growing up. Miles said to her, the college question was no longer if she would go to college but instead: “How does a smart girl get into college?”

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Later, Miles described transferring out of her studies at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill after she said she saw multiple overtly racist incidents and deemed it “not a good fit.” She then transferred to Howard University but struggled to fit in as a first-generation student, while also unaware she was considered one because the term wasn’t openly used, Miles said.

Jabir McKnight, a friend and fellow first-generation college student, read the memoir and believes Miles’ hustle of moving through different environments demonstrated her resilience. He also appreciated her ability to weave together her life experiences with culture and her love for music and sports in the memoir, which he said felt “raw” to her experience. he said.

The memoir also made McKnight feel as though he was transferred “back in time” in its “focus on the Black experience,” he added.

“Reading the book gives you an opportunity to just really see through multiple lenses,” McKnight said.

Miles then wrote about her experience transferring to this university with a strong support system before graduating in 1994 with a degree in English language and literature. She moved to California the next year to begin her doctoral studies at the University of California, Los Angeles, where she wrote about feeling out of her league and overwhelmed with self-doubt.

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“​​One of my main messages to students is to hold onto those things that are really important to them, that they may have gotten from their community,” Miles said. “For me, it was sports and music and hip hop.”

Genesis Montalvo, Miles’ editor, said they encouraged Miles to take readers through moments of “light bulbs going off” in her life so the audience fully understood her process.

It wasn’t until after the first year of the writing and editing process that Miles discovered the direction she wanted to take, Montalvo said. For Montalvo, witnessing those “‘aha’ moments” was most rewarding in their collaborative process.

Now, Miles dedicates her career to supporting first-generation students with programming at UCLA and Loyola Marymount University, she said.

“It comes to a certain point where you write for yourself,” Miles said. “This really is the book that I needed, and then your hope is that it resonates with other people, and I’m starting to see that now. I’m glad that people are finding some kind of connection with ‘Smart Girl.’”

All of these Asian stereotypes — spoon-fed to us by books and movies — have shaped the way we view Asian American culture. But in recent years, a shift from being seen as “nerdy” or “weird” to edgy and hip, has caused Asian culture to quietly fold itself into our pop culture.

The University of Maryland’s Asian American and Pacific Islander Literature and Media Club aims to keep this momentum going and rewrite people’s understanding of the Asian American experience.

Senior English and marketing major Julie Cha founded the club toward the end of her sophomore year, due to the lack of diverse representation of Asian American literature among the University of Maryland’s English department.

“There’s so much more than just immigrant experiences. There’s so much more than growing up in a tiger mom household. There’s so much more than being a model citizen,” Cha said.

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She hopes to expand awareness of the diversity throughout Asian literature and highlight Asian authors who provide unique experiences to combat the perception of the stereotypical Asian American.

“I think AAPI lit is really a tool for modern literature, because it allows perspectives and stories that might not have been heard otherwise, to come to the forefront and flourish,” said junior environmental science and technology major Sarim Zafar.

Asian literature is often written, packaged and commodified nicely for the timid reader who wants to “branch out” from their regular reading. For most authors, this looks like passing off white-centric stories disguised behind the Vietnam or Korean War, like Kristen Hannah’s The Women or Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried .

For readers, this is a comfortable, safe distance from which to read about Asian culture, with a familiar and recognizable buffer between them and foreignness. The AAPI Literature and Media Club seeks to actively rewrite this overdone story.

Zafar said the club helped him to look beyond the Western canon of literature and read stories in which glimpses of his own voice can be reflected back from the pages.

“AAPI lit allows an alternative perspective … that’s not fully dwelled on in a lot of mainstream literary spaces,” Zafar said.

In the club, the members discuss books that deviate from what you would think of as traditional Asian literature. The Asian immigrant or the Asian soldier story is one that has been written over and over again, endlessly forcing the Asian character to perform the same tricks for a reader who demands to be entertained by the “otherness” of their story.

I have read countless novels and watched countless movies where I’m excited to see Asian representation, only to be disappointed when the character has no real depth.

The club’s book of the month was Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, a satirical novel that deals with the issues of performative diversity within the publishing industry, a very apt pick for a book club that tackles the commodification of Asian American voices.

The novel isn’t your average Joy Luck Club, but instead a sharp, punchy and sometimes bitter look at fake diversity in the literary world.

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“People kind of assume a more studious, academia-based recognition of Asians,” Cha said. “It’s super important to showcase that there is a whole other side [of Asian Americans] that … not only exists, but that has been suppressed, especially in Western media,” Cha said.

Club member Matthew Gu, a sophomore computer science and English major, praised the pick of Yellowface, noting that the book has a meta aspect to it.

“[Yellowface] doesn’t really explore an Asian American perspective in the traditional sense, where a protagonist is Asian American. But it still comments a lot about what it means to be Asian American in the publishing industry,” Gu said.

The AAPI Literature and Media Club doesn’t take the road that you expect, instead challenging its members to look at what Asian American literature really means as the uncomfortable question of Asian American identity hits home for the members.

Good Material by Dolly Alderton
Read When: You need a break from serious homework

This stress-free read will change your perspective on rom-coms, relationships and breakups. The novel follows Andy, a struggling stand-up comedian in London, who is dumped by his long-term girlfriend. While the breakup story may at first come off overdone, Alderton takes the cliche and turns it into a hilarious but poignant observation of love, friendships and growing up. Good Material will leave you feeling both nostalgic and inspired.

Normal People by Sally Rooney
Read When: You’re ready to feel cozy fall vibes

This book recently skyrocketed to fame online for its poetic prose and quiet love story. The novel’s main characters, Connell and Marianne, might remind you of yourself or someone you know. Rooney uses understated, but vivid writing to describe relatable characters and their bittersweet relationship. Readers are transported to another college campus across the ocean — the cozy academic setting of Trinity College Dublin in Ireland. As autumn approaches, every college student should read Normal People.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo
Read When: You need an escape from reality

For fantasy lovers, Ninth House should be at the top of your list. Bardugo delivers a powerful fantasy epic set at Yale University that focuses on Alex Stern, a freshman who has a secret: she can see ghosts. Though Bardugo is known for her young-adult fantasy novels, Ninth House is mature and complex, set in a place where magic is just as real as homework and characters are flawed but loveable. Bardugo builds a world designed for the reader to get lost in ivy-covered dorms and ghost-filled corridors. The best part is that Ninth House has a sequel, Hell Bent, so don’t worry about cliffhangers.

Real Americans by Rachel Khong
Read When: You can’t decide what to read

If you love a family saga, Real Americans is the book for you. Khong’s novel spans generations, decades and genres, centering around the theme of nature versus nurture. Beginning in New York City in the early 2000s, the book transports readers to the present before yanking them back to Mao’s Cultural Revolution in communist China. It’s part mystery, part family drama, part romance and part science experiment — featuring alternating perspectives and time skips. Khong’s writing tackles societal expectations of race, class and privilege without being dense or pedantic. With intricate plot lines and fast-moving pace, Real Americans can be finished in one sitting.

Funny Story by Emily Henry
Read When: You’re in a reading slump.

This rom-com is the perfect distraction from your fall classes. Notable Emily Henry books such as People We Meet on Vacation and Beach Read are classics in the rom-com genre, and Funny Story carries on their legacies. Main characters Daphne and Miles are both dealing with recent breakups, but that’s not the worst part — their exes become engaged. In this story, opposites attract in a heart-warming, hilarious way. For anyone looking for a new literary couple to obsess over, Funny Story is a must- read.

Virtual classes during the pandemic wiped out the membership of Terpoets, this university’s poetry club, diminishing their numbers to two. By 2021, the number of English majors had nationally reduced by a third compared to 10 years prior.

Poetry’s popularity at this university seemed to be waning. Time would prove that wrong.

“Interest in poetry, once we came back in person, has steadily increased in a way that I hadn’t seen before COVID,” Lindsay Bernal, this university’s graduate creative writing program’s academic coordinator, said.

Rue Campion, one of Terpoets’ vice presidents, was a part of that new wave of interest. The senior English major joined the club in her first semester during fall 2022, when membership sat at about eight students. Today, the club boasts 40, according to club president Caleigh Larkin.

“It was a very unexpected increase, but not unwelcome,” the senior criminology and criminal justice major said. “COVID inspired a lot of people to try to process their feelings in new and different ways, especially in terms of the solo processing that poetry does.”

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April marks National Poetry Month, and the impact of this university’s post-pandemic poetry boom can be seen in both academia and extracurriculars.

Campion, who is also Terpoets’ outreach chair, said an open mic event with the English Undergraduate Association is being planned for the month, which may feature guest speakers.

Nikki Giovanni, a renowned poet and civil rights activist, will visit this university on April 24. Giovanni will join the university’s new Frederick Douglass Center for Leadership Through the Humanities’ inauguration ceremony. The center aims to make leaders who embody values in the humanities.

This university also has consistent poetry programming from both Terpoets and the English department. Terpoets meets every Tuesday evening and hosts monthly open mics as well as free writing sessions. Meeting topics range from discussions on poetry form to deep dives exploring the life and work of legendary writers such as Mary Oliver.

For students looking to work poetry into their academic coursework, the English department offers a variety of courses on the subject — some taught by Bernal. But her work primarily focuses on graduate students in the creative writing program who are working toward finishing their first collection of work, a process that can take two to three years.

Some of that work has been highlighted by the department in celebration of National Poetry Month, Bernal said. The English department’s social media channels have spent April celebrating and promoting alumni, faculty and current students’s work.

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As Terpoets continues to draw new members, Campion and Larkin credit pandemic-era lockdowns for driving student interest in the medium. Larkin found poetry while battling depression their freshman year of high school.

“Poetry has grown with me,” Larkin said. “It’s just been such a present force in my life because it is the tool I use best to describe myself and emote myself and connect with people.”

Campion’s pandemic-era entry into poetry was an escape from the isolation that came with lockdown, among other hobbies such as online role-playing games and chess.

“When we get into this place of loneliness, you find yourself wanting to learn and to create in ways that maybe a lot of us didn’t have time or the mental and physical energy to do before,” Campion said.

Some people turned to poets for comfort, a move born out of the innate desire to be seen and understood in an era of uncertainty, Campion said. Now, that desire has blossomed into a space for shared passion and renewed community.

Although Larkin and Campion’s time in Terpoets is coming to an end, the club’s future is promising. New events, such as open mics in Washington, D.C., and a slam poetry team’s establishment are on the horizon. As National Poetry Month highlights the work of Terpoets on campus, Larkin can spend their final months at the university enjoying the club they rebuilt.

The talk centered on Hsu’s 2022 Pulitzer prize-winning memoir, Stay True. In the memoir, Hsu described his experience as a college student in the ’90s, including his complicated relationship with his friend Ken, who passed away during their time at college. 

Hsu felt jealous of Ken and made assumptions, he said during his presentation. Hsu said he believed it was easier for Ken to assimilate in the United States, given that he was a Japanese-American whose family had been in the country for several generations, whereas Hsu’s parents had recently immigrated from Taiwan.

“These were all total misreadings of him,” Hsu said. “When I was younger, I was actively aware of all the differences between me and someone else.”

Hsu wrote about his friendship with Ken and how it grew during their time at the University of California, Berkeley. Hsu wrote the memoir to remember the fond memories he has with Ken.

After discussing his memoir, Hsu answered questions from attendees.

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Razak Diallo, a freshman cinema and media studies and journalism major who attended the event, said he resonated with Hsu’s message. Diallo asked Hsu how he handles working in predominantly white spaces, such as the media.

While Hsu said he was lucky to be in a group of people with more experience, he said it’s important to be around people who understand and validate experiences.

“It can be very tedious to be in spaces where you have to educate as you’re trying to assert yourself,” Hsu said. “I was very lucky to enter into writing with a cohort of people who had similar experiences as me, similar aspirations.”

The presence of ‘90s culture throughout the memoir is another theme that struck students during the talk. 

Freshman public policy major Gavin Neubauer said he enjoyed hearing Hsu’s experience as a young adult in the ‘90s — a time when physical media was more common.

“It’s not to say we still don’t use physical media,” Neubauer said. “But if all our lives are on our phones, then what’s left behind?”

Hsu said the rise of social media allowed people to find others to relate to, but something great about the ‘90s was getting to meet people and talk with them in public randomly. 

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People just need more “randomness” in their lives, he added. These potentially meaningful encounters are much more difficult to come by when on social media, Hsu said.

Randy Ontiveros, an associate English professor at this university, said he has always been a fan of Hsu’s work. He wanted students to hear Hsu’s perspective since most of them are the same age he was in the memoir, Ontiveros said. 

“I wanted students who were here to hear somebody older than them validating something that they already know, which is that these friendships they’re forming now are so magical and meaningful and will stay with them,” Ontiveros said.

The LGBTQ+ Equity Center at this university hosts a biweekly book club, which reads books centering LGBTQ+ voices. The idea for the program came from junior marketing major Jasmine Brown and Leo Osei, a junior psychology major — both student employees at the LGBTQ+ Equity Center.  

The two wanted to create a space that brought together students for a fun environment for finding LGBTQ+ representation in literature, initially sparked from Osei’s love of reading books with LGBTQ+ representation.

Osei, who is also an LGBTQ+ studies minor, said he wanted to provide a space for community members to feel represented outside of academic texts and readings.

“I wanted it to be a space where it wasn’t so focused on theorizing and more just focused on trying to find books that represent us, just because we want to be represented,” Osei said. “There’s no deep reason about it. I just like reading narratives that I relate to.”

The pair pitched the idea to Shantala Thompson, the center’s associate director, late last year. In February, the club hosted its first meeting.   

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“Leo and Jasmine put a lot of thought into it, a lot of work, a lot of thinking about what our students need and a lot of thinking about a welcoming space,” Thompson said. “I believe that students should be running programming, so we kind of just ran with it and I think they’ve done a wonderful job so far.”

From there, the pair combined book preferences — Osei with graphic novels and Brown with more text novels — and spoke with their friends to create a book setlist.

The club is reading three different books this semester, Brown said. Due to a limited supply, books are raffled off, she said. Members who don’t win the raffle are able to get novels through the library, Brown added.   

This semester’s books include On Ajayi Crowther Street by Elnathan John, We Are Okay by Nina LaCour and Carmilla, originally written by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu and now edited by Carmen Maria Machado.

To Osei, the club is especially important with cases of books being banned across the United States. 

“A lot of our literature has been banned, burned, suppressed,” Osei said. “As a college campus, we have more freedom with it, but that doesn’t mean that it couldn’t happen here. To have this kind of program is very important, to be like ‘We’re staying here and we’re going to talk about what we want to talk about because this is our livelihood.’”

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Despite having only one meeting so far, club members have already started to recommend books to each other, Brown said. 

The organization is also interested in continuing to expand the book club beyond the confines of spring and fall semesters, according to Thompson.

“I would like to see a queer book club in the summer and in the winter where students aren’t on campus, when students are at home, when students need to find community,” Thompson said. “I really see it as a place where folks gather for community.”

Students of all backgrounds, years and majors are welcome to bond in the club, according to Brown.

This club is still in its beginning stages, yet the pair has plans to continue to strengthen its community by focusing on listening to its members input and — of course — spotlighting more LGBTQ+ authors and books. 

Moving forward, Brown looks toward continuing to host book discussions and learn more about LGBTQ+ literature.

“I love getting to meet new people,” Brown said. “I love getting to hear everyone’s ideas and getting to learn more about people in the community.”

For more than 40 years, The Lantern Bookshop has provided Washington, D.C., residents with a home for their literary desires, all while raising money for students at Bryn Mawr College, a women’s liberal arts college in Pennsylvania. Now in its fourth location, the volunteer-run bookshop is open four days a week just off Georgetown’s bustling Wisconsin Avenue.

Since the 2022 closure of College Park Bookholders, University of Maryland students have lacked an affordable, accessible and on-campus used book retailer. The Lantern is an answer to this — walking distance from Metro’s Foggy Bottom-GWU station and situated just off Georgetown’s bustling commercial corridor.

The Lantern was quiet on the October morning I visited — a sanctuary from the busy shops that surround it. Volunteer bookkeeper Elizabeth Margosches sat behind the shop’s small front desk, with glasses propped carefully below a head of curled gray hairs.

As each customer wandered in, Margosches would hold them captive in the store’s doorway to provide a precise guide to The Lantern’s layout. Fiction upstairs. Foreign language against the back wall. Rare books on the shelf to your right.

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If The Lantern had a map, the store’s volunteers would be its experienced cartographers — each vastly attuned to the two stories of countless novels. 

The Lantern was founded in 1977 by Diana Morgan Laylin Young, a Bryn Mawr alumna, to benefit the college’s students. Once one of 16 Bryn Mawr-associated bookshops and book sales across the country, The Lantern now survives alongside its sister shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Since its inception, the Washington, D.C., location has raised more than $840,000 for Bryn Mawr College and associated scholarships, including $40,000 during the 2023 fiscal year. One of The Lantern’s greatest finds was a work of William Blake which was anonymously donated. The book sold at auction for about $75,000, Margosches said.

“We hope that it was intentional,” Margosches said with a laugh.

The Lantern has occupied its current location, a converted townhome-turned-art gallery, for more than 20 years. Owning the building outright has been a key factor in the bookstore’s ability to help Bryn Mawr, according to volunteer Noell Sottile. Without the pressures of renting and the risks of temperamental landlords, the store can focus more on its mission, Sottile said.

Community members donated every book, vinyl and CD on the store’s shelves, which is another reason why The Lantern remains viable after decades of operation. The store’s in-house expert sorts and appraises donations. Then, books are held in the building’s shallow basement until shelf space opens on the floors above.

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After a slow start on that quiet October Friday, more patrons began filtering in as the morning crept into midday. Emily Ho came in a little after noon. The University of Southern California graduate said the promise of antique literature and possibility of some 1930s-era finds lured her in.

“I’ve been to [bookshops] that are focused on 17th-century stuff, and then other ones are more new stuff, other ones are for-profit, but I like that this one’s donation-based and they’re not marking up everything,” Ho said.

While some of The Lantern’s rare finds can sell for hundreds, most of the store’s stock costs just a handful of dollars. For example, a gorgeous analysis of mid-century architectural design could be had for just three dollars.

The Lantern has benefited from a “gangbusters” post-pandemic boom of business, Sottile said. Margosches credited some of the increase in business to the return of the college community to Georgetown. 

For Sottile, the reason for a post-pandemic book boom was simpler. 

“People were stuck in their houses,” Sottile said. “They looked at books.”