There’s no reason you’d suspect that a piece of Paul’s Book Store lives on in the basement of a modest house near Union Corners.

It’s a small space. Don’t bump your head on the way down the steps. To the left is regular basement stuff like the washing machine. To the right, a couple of bright rugs, plain wood bookshelves and a collection of literary criticism, hardcover fiction and biography transforms the rest of the space to something like a life-size book nook. 

When longtime State Street used bookstore Paul’s announced in November 2024 it would be closing its doors, August McGinnity-Wake was dismayed. But he also had, well, a dream. Or at least a quixotic plan.

“I called them right after I heard they were closing. I had always wanted to get into bookselling, but the inventory, that’s a hard piece to kickstart.” He negotiated with Paul’s owners to buy several complete subject sections. “Coming up with this collection [otherwise] — that would take a lifetime.” (He declines to reveal the sale price.)

He was also driven by the desire to preserve a part of Paul’s, which he calls “a piece of Madison literary culture.” Love of books runs in his family — his father, Bob Wake, is a writer and small press publisher in Cambridge, Wisconsin. 

At the very end, Driftless Books & Music of Viroqua bought whatever was left of Paul’s stock. McGinnity-Wake, 28, feels fortunate he was able to keep these subject areas together. He’s elated about having adopted the lit crit section, which includes books from the libraries of many professors. He was thrilled to spot books from the collection of Bill Cronon, a favorite professor whose classes he took as an undergrad at UW-Madison, where he majored in environmental studies and political science.

In 2018, McGinnity-Wake was working on political campaigns across the country and his career was “not feeling fulfilling.” He “spent COVID camping out in Wisconsin” and realized “a course correction” was in order. He moved back to Madison and works remotely, doing digital marketing for political campaigns — now, alongside his bookselling business. He sells titles one by one on eBay and Instagram under the name Augie’s Books. 

It took McGinnity-Wake two and a half months to unpack all the boxes, each full of surprises and treasures (“the most fun I’ve ever had”) and to enter the inventory into a Google spreadsheet. He repriced some books — increasing some, decreasing others. The internet changed used bookselling in a major way — now, the number of copies of a used book on the market is easily known, and if there are even 15 or 20 copies out there, it “obliterates the value.” 

But value is about more than how many dollars a seller can get for a book. To the Madison bibliophile whose first taste of books that were not mass market paperbacks came from Paul’s, the re-creation is catnip. Nostalgia. A hug. “I was like a lot of people, that store meant the world to me,” McGinnity-Wake says. Browsing Paul’s “expanded what reality could be.” 

Augie’s Books doesn’t have regular hours, but some day he might put out a sign on nearby Milwaukee Street announcing an open house of sorts. Interested parties can direct-message him through his Instagram account @augiesbooks. He doesn’t rule out opening a more conventional storefront someday.

Does he find himself reading more, now that he has a bookstore in his basement? “I read less!” he says, with a mixture of astonishment and chagrin. “I spend so much time with the books, but not necessarily reading them. I’m obsessed with the object of the book. I crack open each one, spend a little bit of time with them. And I’ll probably never have it at this scale again because I don’t think I’ll ever buy thousands of books at once again. So it’s something I really cherish.” 

Books acquired: about 2,000

Books re-sold so far: about 100

Included in the deal with Paul’s: hand-calligraphed signs for the sections, bookcases, bookends and even a dehumidifier

Most valuable title: 2002 reprint of Mrs. Cleon Marti’s 1987 book The Pineapple Quilt ($100)

Books he’s put aside for himself: “A biography of Ford Madox Ford, The Saddest Story, in a slipcase, really nicely produced. But I’m trying to minimize doing that.”