Let's just get this out of the way: I love big-box bookstores. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Before you question my locavore bona fides, let me clarify: I love all bookstores — big, small, used, new, chain, independent — because I love books. (Ask me what I'd take to a desert island, and I'll tell you it's Maud Hart Lovelace's complete Betsy-Tacy series.) I tend to be pretty egalitarian in my book acquisition standards. And to my mind, any brick-and-mortar store with local employees is better than a faceless digital monster. Given a choice between shopping in a quirky indie or a "soulless" corporate giant, yes, I'll take the singular experience of the indie, especially in Vermont, where the "buy local" ethos is so deeply ingrained. So on my most recent birthday, my husband knew that a copy of the free Vermont Bookstore Tour 2024-25 Passport — humbly printed from our home computer and wrapped up with an offer to accompany me to all 20 independent bookstores listed thereon — was the perfect gift for this book nerd. Launched a decade ago, the passport invites you to visit bookstores in all corners of the state. I've traveled to nine on the list so far (see "Passport to Paradise," page 29), and my experiences have certainly reaffirmed the benefits of shopping locally, including cozy ambience, eclectic inventory and interactions with passionate booksellers. The tour got me thinking about the enduring appeal of physical bookstores, including the mega ones. In the mid-1990s, I worked at the South Burlington Barnes & Noble — first in the Staples Plaza, then at its current superstore on Dorset Street. During my tenure, that store was largely staffed by smart, well-read lit lovers who found joy in putting books in people's hands. I met my husband of 20-plus years there, as well as many coworkers I count as close friends to this day. I still belong to a book club that formed among the employees more than 25 years ago. It may be difficult to believe that William Barnes and Gilbert Clifford Noble were real people helming a small bookshop in the early 1900s. (So were Tom and Louis Borders in the 1970s; their store became the now-defunct Borders chain.) By the time of my bookselling career in the '90s, the effect of the expansion of these and other chain bookstores on small indie shops had been…