Shock and disbelief rippled through the Dublin book world following Monday's revelation that Fred Hanna Ltd was selling up on Nassau Street and Eason & Son, its new owner, moving in. Even those at the heart of the trade had little inkling of it but the immediate reaction was "the devil you know" is better than those carnivorous chains from overseas like Barnes and Noble or Borders, who are said to have been looking at the Irish scene with a view to moving in.
It's no secret that Easons has been keen to get a foothold on Dublin's southside Book Mile, the area around Dawson Street that's already home to Waterstone's and Hodges Figgis - with Dubray and Greene's not far off. That's where the major buying goes on, as well as the events and the launches, and Easons obviously realised it had to extend across the Liffey.
Fully aware of the worth of the Hanna name, Easons is holding on to it and all eyes will now be on the shop to see what changes the northside giant will bring to Nassau Street.
A bit of downbeat news this week is that that there'll be no literary bunfest in the shape of the Dublin Literary Festival this year - odd when you consider that it was only inaugurated last year by joint organisers, the Irish Writers' Centre, Dublin Corporation and Poetry Ireland. It's a pity that this June won't offer another bite at the cherry, particularly as Dublin, supposedly a city so literary the bricks write books, has been miserably lacking in celebrations of the written word. Still, the event hasn't been abandoned altogether. Deciding that time, organisation and funding were in too short supply this year, the organisers have pushed the date for the next festival forward to 2000. Although the Arts Council provides funding, the lucre is still limited. Wouldn't it be nice if some far-sighted company saw fit to throw a stuffed brown envelope the event's way?
The potential literary goldmine of the confused Irish childhood continues to be a seam plenty of people plan on tapping into. Next into the fray will be John Walsh, assistant editor with the London Independent and author of Growing Up Catholic. Harper Collins will publish his "story of rootlessness, of a London-Irish boy who has two identities and feels at home with neither" in November.
Called The Falling Angels, it tracks Walsh's bewilderment at the Irishness of his parents' Battersea home where he grew up as an adolescent whose head was filled with Mick Jagger on the one hand - and tales of Irish martyrdom on the other. The key to it all proved to be in his Galway roots. The book will be out just a month after Frank McCourt Part Two in the shape of a memoir called 'Tis. Obviously sensing what a good thing McCourt is, his publishers, also Harper Collins, boast that though the new book "blesses readers with another chapter of McCourt's story", they will still want more after reading it. How many memoirs can one man write? This one could run and run.
Next Friday is World Book Day and Sadbh is glad to see that Ireland is pulling up its socks, having lagged behind the rest of the world in the two years since WBD was first officially celebrated. Although we are not up to Swedish standards (where in previous years you could send books for free and sup bowls of alphabet soup) or Barcelona - where they have celebrated April 23rd for generations with the exchange of books (for men) and roses (for women) - there is a healthy number of events and freebies on offer.
Thursday's launch event on Dublin's O'Connell Street will see any number of Irish authors in the window of Easons - them and not their books - so go along and have a gawk if so disposed.
Long-time readers of The Irish Times will be familiar with the name John Broderick, novelist, critic, Irish Times contributor and broadcaster. An Athlone man and proud of it, Broderick died 10 years ago this year and now his hometown is to name a street after him.
It will all be part of a Broderick commemorative week from May 28th30th which rather poignantly - or perhaps ironically - will include an exhibition of his books and memorabilia in Athlone Library: poignant given that his first novel, The Pilgrimage, was banned by the Censorship of Publications Board in 1961, effectively removing it from all public lending libraries of the era.
Any news or nuggets for this column can be sent to Sadbh at sadbh@irish-times.ie