There is Only One Word

469 Milton Street: A two-storey brick building painted an unforgettable greyish blue. Stacks of books line the outside sill of the huge, streetlevel window. Behind the two dusty panes of the upstairs windows, books pile on top of each other to see me better as I look up at them. This is how The Word Bookstore presents itself now, almost exactly as it has for over fifty years. It is easy to believe the chalk writing on the sandwich board outside: Il n’y a qu’un seul Mot, There is only one Word.

The building is over one hundred and fifty years old and has been home to The Word Bookstore since 1975. Before that, The Word’s founders, Adrian King-Edwards and Lucille Friesen, sold books out of the living room of their Milton-Street apartment. The bookstore is now co-owned and managed by the founders’ son, Brendan King-Edwards; his father and stepmother continue to be involved in the business. “It’s one of the oldest buildings on Milton Street,” says Brendan King-Edwards. “There’s a lot of history there, there’s a lot of soul.”

“There is only one Word” undoubtedly reflects this unique longevity of the building and the bookstore it shelters. The phrase has fittingly been the motto for the bookstore’s recent fundraising campaign, a campaign born out of the need for renovations, notably a redoing of the building’s façade. The goal: $50,000 by August 3rd, 2026. Thanks to online donations, in-store contributions and an anonymous donation of $25,000, this goal was achieved and surpassed. “We’re over $70,000 now,” shares Brendan King-Edwards. “It’s not clear exactly how much all of this is going to cost, but it’s clearly going to cost over $100,000 to do the project that we’re doing.” The project is set to begin in the spring 2027, with architects being chosen in the upcoming months. Apart from the façade, the work would include renovations of the entryway and windows, and would ideally extend to the reinforcement of the second floor, which acts as storage space. “Other things may arise,” observes Brendan King-Edwards. “We’re continuing to raise money in store, so it depends on that as well.”

As I enter The Word, it becomes instantly clear what this building holds in its space. Behind the open door sits the bookstore’s emblematic Remington typewriter and beside it, on the floor, are two piles of issues from the Montreal Review of Books and Running Man Press. On either side of the front window, newspaper clippings detailing the space’s history have been carefully taped to the wall; headlines mark the bookstore’s twentieth and fortieth anniversaries. People cautiously move between tables stacked with books and along shelves with volumes tightly lined up from floor to ceiling. There’s the ring of the dial phone and the creaking of the floor, muffled by lovingly stained carpets. An armchair in the middle of the room offers a restful spot to read, and in the corner, a tiny wicker chair welcomes young readers. Brendan King-Edwards remarks that the bookstore is still very much the same as it was in its early days. “It really is set up like a living room,” he says. A living room with many, many books, and the tightness of this space brings out an attention in people: an attention to the fact that in picking up the book for which they came in, they might find beneath it the one they will take with them. “The main activities that we do everyday [are] still exactly the same,” Brendan King-Edwards tells me. “[We’re] buying and selling books, trying to find the right book for the right person.”

This relationship between person and book is at the center of The Word’s community. “Most of the time, [...] we don’t really treat our relationships like customer service,” Brendan King-Edwards reflects. “We really engage with people and create relationships, especially when you’re not only selling people books, but you’re buying books from them as well. [...] It’s very collaborative. We wouldn’t have the incredible books that we have without the professors, students and other people who end up selling us their collections and trusting us to [...] get those books back out into the community.” As I open a copy of Les Liaisons Dangereuses, I find a handwritten name and date on the first page, a small trace of the previous hands that held it. Gradually, I start to understand The Word not only as a bookstore, but as an archive, a quiet display of the history of individuals’ relationship to books, a space where books that have been loved are reloved.

The renovations planned for 469 Milton Street will allow this relationship to continue, and in fact, flourish. “We’re very conscious of keeping the same historic vibe while of course keeping things up to code, [...] making things safe and a little bit more accessible, and [...] a little easier for people to move through and interact with,” explains Brendan King-Edwards. He tells me that contrary to popular belief, independent bookstores are currently thriving. “What we continue to see with the proliferation of independent bookstores [...] is that [...] a bookstore exists in your community because you want it there. And if you want it there, and you shop there, and you engage with these businesses, then they will continue to exist.” For Brendan King-Edwards, the challenges that come with running an independent bookstore are only another aspect of the work that comes with running any independent business. “I don’t see these things as a struggle, personally, I see it as a privilege.”

It dawns on me how much the building is a vehicle for the relationships that the bookstore fosters. Renovating 469 Milton street not only means strengthening the building and rendering it more accessible, it signifies, in fact, the endurance and growth of everything The Word has nourished for half a century. “It’s just a fantastic feeling to have this level of engagement from a community,” shares Brendan King-Edwards. “I mean, it’s really hard to describe how profound that is and how much energy that gives you going forward.”

While donations to the funding campaign are still possible through The Word’s website for the time being, the best way to contribute to The Word is in store, where postcards can be bought for $5 and prints for $10. All proceeds will go to restoring the façade.