As some of you may know already, Readings’ long-serving managing director, Mark Rubbo, has recently retired from his position. This idea of retirement has been floating around for some years now, although I wasn’t sure it would ever eventuate. My incredulity came from observing Dad’s unwavering obsession with Readings over the entirety of my lifetime. It was something to behold, often fanatical in its intensity. Mark Rubbo and Readings became so enmeshed it has sometimes been difficult to tell where one began and the other ended. The idea of retirement didn’t just seem unlikely, but potentially catastrophic.

This sustained dedication has been one of the main reasons for Readings’ success. Dad’s achievements in the world of bookselling are many, and under his guidance the business has thrived in the face of many direct and indirect threats. His dedication extends not just to Readings, but also to books and their writers, the customers, and the industry. During his time as managing director, he has helped build the company from one small shop on Lygon Street to eight shops around Melbourne. He was one of the founders of the Melbourne Writers Festival, was a driving force behind Melbourne becoming a UNESCO City of Literature, sat on the inaugural board of directors for the Wheeler Centre, served on the board of the Indigenous Literacy Foundation, was a judge for the Miles Franklin Literary Award, and established The Readings Prize and The Readings Foundation. To date, the foundation has donated more than $2 million to Victorian organisations that support the development of literacy, community integration, and the arts.

Many people who come across Dad are often amazed, at times befuddled, by his seemingly indefatigable work ethic. He is obsessed by the day-to-day tasks of the bookshop, whether it is packing boxes, stacking books on the remainder table, picking web orders, or replying to online customer queries late into the night. On a recent Christmas morning, he hand-delivered parcels to several customers whose orders arrived late from the supplier.

I have been lucky enough to work with Dad in the business, on and off, for 20 years now. It has been a privilege working with him and I appreciate that being able to work so closely with my dad, and still get along, is quite rare. From what I have observed during this time, he has served Readings, rather than the other way around. He has always preferred to keep most of the profit in the business for reinvestment, or to donate to The Readings Foundation. Only just last week, he came up with the idea to match any donation that a customer makes to the Indigenous Literacy Foundation on Indigenous Literacy Day – you can find out more about this initiative in this magazine (see page 3) or on our website. What amazes me and many of my colleagues is that Dad is an irrepressible fount of ideas to sell books, draw attention to an author or raise money for a worthy cause. Part of the fun of working with him is you never know what he is going to cook up next.

I’ve come across many business people who are focused on their own success, often to the detriment of others. Dad has proved that you can run a business with compassion and decency. There have been many staff members and people in the local community who have come to him for help over the years. In all the instances that I know of, I haven’t known him to turn anyone away.

I am honoured to be given stewardship of Readings. I have often described Readings as another, very demanding, family member. The one who is never there at the dinner table or at birthday parties but is always talked about. It has also provided a never-ending supply of books, which, as an avid reader, is something I have always appreciated. The many perks don’t stop there.

I was lucky enough to go on my first company trip with Dad when I was 12, to the Booksellers Conference in Miami. Dad put me in the provided childcare while he stalked the trade stalls that lined the huge conference centre, hunting out books for the Readings Bargains table. When he went to check in on me, he was told I wasn’t there; panicking, he implored the organisers to broadcast a lost child alert. ‘Not policy,’ they said, but he insisted. Shortly after, I turned up with a haul of comic books, wondering what the fuss had been about. In case you were wondering, Miami dropped off the bookselling itinerary after this visit.

Later, when I was in Year 7, I would come into work once a week before school to change the housing ads over. For those of you who don’t know, Readings used to display housing ads in a side window on Tyne Street. There used to be hundreds that were collected at the front counter during the week to be put up on Friday morning. I officially started bookselling at the Hawthorn shop, and since then, I have worked in many different shops and departments across the business.

There was a period in my 20s when I swore that I would never work at Readings long-term or make it a career. With time, I began to realise how fortunate I am to be given the opportunity to work in this industry. I probably don’t need to tell you that working in a bookshop is different from other types of retail. Bookshops and booksellers are a crucial part of the exchange between writers and their readers, a transfer of knowledge and ideas that changes our world.

I keep on telling people, perhaps for my own benefit more than theirs, that this will not be a hard retirement. I don’t think Dad plans on giving up bookselling, or Readings, cold turkey. He will continue to curate the famous Readings Bargains table, work on the shop floor, oversee The Readings Foundation, help guide the direction of the company as chair of the board, and, I dare say, pack a box or two in the web department during busy periods. He might even turn up at your doorstep with a book delivery on Christmas morning. Even though he may have retired from his role as managing director, Dad’s enthusiasm and ambition for the business, for promoting books, writing and ideas, is as strong as ever.