Beginning Again

When I first opened Old Town Books in 2018, I remember clearly a meeting I had with a prominent Alexandria businessman. He graciously took time to talk about my new small business, Old Town Books. We walked around King Street then paused to sit on a stoop near South Block. I remember nervously sloshing my iced coffee around, not even knowing where to begin with my questions.

Eventually we discussed my non-existent break-even analysis (and why I should have one). We talked about making functional charts for my team and about where to rent longer term when the time came.

It's all vague now. I wish I remembered his advice more clearly. But what sticks with me after all these years is an offhand remark he made at the end of our conversation.

"You're one of us," he said.

I didn't get what he meant at first.

One of us?

"An entrepreneur," he clarified.

Me? An entrepreneur?

Someone who has ideas. Dreams. Starts new projects, takes risks.

I was an entrepreneur, I realized! 

In that moment I felt seen, understood, and less alone.

Fast forward a few years later, to early 2025. I was dealing with a serious case of the winter blahs. I tried exercise, a light therapy box, even a trip to sunny Florida. Nothing worked. I was in a rut.

I started making ice cream to have something productive, something sensory, to do. I bought one cookbook, then another. I made a batch or two, and my mood lifted.

I loved the creativity of ice cream, the blank canvas of it. Ice cream is a vehicle for imagination. You can dress it up in all sorts of delicious ways. You can use it to tell stories. I spent that winter in the kitchen deep-diving into all things ice cream. My new obsession broke me free from my seasonal funk.

That spring I only became more fascinated. I studied ice cream. I went to Ice Cream School (yes, that's a thing). I took food safety and food science courses. I traveled to visit dozens of ice cream shops in Virginia and beyond. I interviewed the owners. I listened to podcasts. I read books about frozen desserts that most people would never normally pick up.

My family became mildly concerned. Who was this new ice cream addict? Where had she come from?

The truth is that I recognized the feeling because I had felt it before.

I felt it when I first started dreaming about a bookstore. Before there was a business plan or a lease, before there were shelves and books and staff and events. Long before any of that, there was simply curiosity. A question.

What if?

What if I opened a bookstore?

And now, years later, another question has appeared.

What if I opened an ice cream business?

At first I dismissed it. Running one business is hard enough. I already had a life full of kids, work, books, and dogs. There was no practical reason to add another project into the mix.

But entrepreneurs, I've learned, don't always choose the ideas. Sometimes the ideas choose them.

The more I tried to ignore starting an ice cream business, the more persistent it became. I found myself sketching logos during meetings, researching equipment late at night, running numbers in spreadsheets, and taking detours to visit ice cream shops whenever we traveled. 

What began as a hobby slowly transformed into something else. 

A possibility became a vision. A vision became a plan.

Now, after months of planning, permitting, and dreaming, I’m delighted to share that Fabled Ice Cream is opening very soon. (As of this writing, we have our final state health inspection tomorrow!) 

Fabled Ice Cream is a passion project rooted in the belief that good food can tell a story, and good stories make for great experiences. Every pint is handpacked with a premium, locally made ice cream inspired by books and storytelling. Our first two flavors? Jane Eyre Grey (tea with lavender and lemon), and Cliff Hanger (peanut butter with craggy chocolate covered pretzels). You can sign up for our custom, small-batch ice cream drops on Hotplate. Purchase a pint when drops go live at the beginning of the week, then pick up your order at Old Town Books. 

At this new beginning, I’m nervous and excited in equal measure. Those feelings bring me back to that stoop all those years ago, to being seen for the first time in my life as an entrepreneur. The businesses might change. The projects and industries, too. But the instinct remains the same: to imagine something that isn't there yet. To try and make it real. 

SEE ALSO: Street Style: Meet Ally Kirkpatrick and Melissa LaSalle of Old Town Books