
October 15, 2025
Last week I gave a talk about my book at The Book Cellar, an independent bookstore in Chicago's Lincoln Square neighborhood. It was my first book signing, and I couldn't have picked a better place to launch Unconvention.
I walked from the El station on an unexpectedly mild October evening. The sidewalk restaurant seating was filling up, and the neighborhood had that pleasant energy of people settling in for the evening. When I arrived at The Book Cellar, the space had the warm, inviting atmosphere I'd written about in the book.
After my talk, I handed the floor to Suzy Takacs, the owner, who shared stories with the audience about how the store survived COVID. Listening to her describe those challenging months reinforced something I'd seen across hundreds of small businesses during the pandemic: the ones that survived weren't necessarily the ones with the biggest war chests or the best digital infrastructure. They were the businesses whose customers actively wanted them to survive.
In 2004, Suzy Takacs was working as a nurse practitioner in Chicago's Lincoln Square when she kept coming back to a simple pleasure: ending her day with a good book and a glass of wine. "These are my two favorite things in life," she told me. "I figured there must be others who feel the same way."
The neighborhood had no bookstore, and Suzy began imagining a space that would combine these two passions. She even came up with a name: The Book Cellar. The timing seemed questionable at best. Independent bookstores across the country were closing as Borders, the retail giant, strategically positioned new stores near successful shops. But Suzy saw an opportunity to create something unique—a place where wine and literature could come together.
With no business experience but plenty of conviction, she grabbed some books and a bottle of wine and started planning. Finding the right location came with its own challenges—she needed a spot safe from the expanding Borders chain, plus she had to secure a liquor license. An ally in her local alderman, who had a soft spot for small businesses, helped her navigate the complexities. On June 12, 2004, The Book Cellar became the first independent woman-owned bookstore in the United States to feature a wine bar.
What's kept The Book Cellar thriving for two decades isn't just its unique combination of wine and books. It's how Suzy has leveraged the three natural advantages that every small business has access to—what I call the Underdog Principles.
Suzy discovered she wasn't alone in her vision of pairing books with wine. Wine tastings became a natural complement to author events, with readers sipping carefully chosen vintages while discussing new releases. She even began hosting special evenings where wine authors would share their expertise, creating an atmosphere unique to The Book Cellar.
When the community suggested adding coffee and tea like other bookstores were doing, Suzy listened but stayed true to her vision. She added a café serving lattes—in true Book Cellar style, it became another way to bring people together. She wasn't trying to be everything to everyone; she was being something special to specific customers who valued what she offered.
The café brought its own stories, like the one about a young woman, now in her late twenties, who first discovered the store as a child. "There was this little girl who would sit in the café every weekend with her grandfather. They'd spend hours here together. Now, she comes to our events on her own. She's part of our history," Suzy shared.
This deep connection to her community continues to shape her decisions. When the city began removing parking spaces in favor of bike lanes in 2024, Suzy knew she had to speak up. "The new alderman wants to prioritize bikes, but I know my customers. If they're going to spend time here browsing books or visiting other shops on the block, they need somewhere to park." Her customers backed her up, showing just how strong these relationships have grown.
"The store's purpose has evolved over time," Suzy reflected when we spoke last week. "It began as a way to share what I love, but it's become something more meaningful. We're part of people's lives now." That connection with her community has become another of her favorite things, right up there with books and wine.
Like any small business, The Book Cellar has faced its share of challenges over two decades: the 2008 financial crisis, the rise of ebooks, Amazon's growing dominance, and Suzy's personal battle with cancer. Each time, her community rallied around the store.
COVID was perhaps the ultimate test. The store stayed open with very limited staff, offering book pickup and hand-delivering to nearby customers. But something unexpected happened. "People would call in not just to order books, but to check on me, to chat," Suzy told me. "It was always about more than selling books."
She became a lifeline for her customers, providing that place for people to connect when they needed it most. And her customers organized online campaigns to keep the doors open—not because they couldn't buy books from Amazon, but because The Book Cellar mattered to them in ways that went far beyond transactions.
This pattern repeated itself across the country during those difficult months. I saw it again and again in the businesses I worked with: the gym where members continued paying dues even with the facility closed, the restaurants where regulars bought gift cards by the hundreds, the independent retailers whose customers organized social media campaigns. Each crisis revealed what these businesses really meant to people—and that kind of relationship doesn't happen by accident.
These three principles—positioning, proximity, and purpose—aren't just business theory. They're what kept The Book Cellar alive through two decades of challenges that closed countless other independent bookstores.
When customers want you to survive, remarkable things happen. You can't manufacture that kind of loyalty with marketing campaigns or points programs. It comes from years of being a real part of people's lives. During COVID, I watched bookstores across the country find customers organizing to keep them afloat. I saw gym members paying dues for closed facilities. I watched restaurant regulars buying gift cards they might never use, just to keep their favorite places alive.
This is the power of genuine customer relationships. When people call not just to order books but to check on the owner, when they organize campaigns to save businesses they love, when they continue supporting businesses even when they can't access the service—that's not about discounts or convenience. It's about relationships built on real value delivered consistently over time.
When purpose drives you through the hard times, you find strength beyond what profit alone can provide. Suzy's purpose evolved from simply sharing what she loved to becoming part of her customers' lives. That purpose gave her the stamina to hand-deliver books during lockdowns, to keep showing up with limited staff, to fight for parking spaces her customers needed. When profit alone isn't enough to justify the struggle, purpose is what keeps you going.
These advantages don't just help you survive—they help you build something customers will fight to keep alive.
The Book Cellar's story isn't unique to independent bookstores. Every small business has the potential to create this kind of irreplaceable value for their customers.
Think about the businesses in your own life. The contractor who remembers exactly what you wanted to avoid from the last project. The accountant who understands your business well enough to give advice beyond tax returns. The coffee shop owner who knows your order and asks about your kids. The consultant who tells you the hard truth even when it means less revenue.
These relationships can't be manufactured or scaled. Big retailers might be able to stock books and serve wine, but creating the kind of warm, personal atmosphere that makes The Book Cellar special can't be mass-produced. It comes from years of genuine connection with customers—understanding what they value, anticipating what they need, and delivering experiences that matter to them.
That's not a limitation—it's your advantage.
Whether you run a bookstore, a body shop, a consulting practice, or any small business, you have access to these same principles. Your proximity to customers gives you insights that data analytics can't replicate. Your ability to position uniquely means you don't have to compete on Amazon's terms. Your freedom to build around purpose creates resilience beyond what profit margins alone can provide.
The question is: are you building on them?
In an increasingly uncertain business environment, these advantages aren't just nice-to-haves. They're the foundation of building a business that doesn't just survive, but thrives on its own terms—by creating real value for the customers you serve. Build that value well enough, consistently enough, authentically enough, and your customers won't just buy from you. They'll support you through the hard times, advocate for you to others, and fight to keep you alive when things get tough.
That's the power of being local. That's the power of being small.
Copyright 2025
Sri Kaza