Loving, second-hand style

PopMatters has started a series of essays on the wonders of used bookstores. A website after my own heart!

In this PopMatters special feature section, eight writers—each their own unique breed of book-lover—step inside the world of secondhand books and demonstrate the diversity of the experiences it contains.

Check it out as it unfolds...

Sorry this week is quiet - please stay tuned for more regular updates.

Another Sacred Cow Slayed?

Like many suburbanites, I grew up in a home with an Encyclopedia Britannica. It was a gorgeous old volume from the 1960s, most likely not containing a single independent country in Africa. I loved it. It smelled dusty, and it was in a dark brown case with a hole on top for the similarly outdated atlas, which admittedly (and unusually) I used a bit less. I think it often went missing for some reason. With four kids in the house, it could have been under a couch for a few years or something.

I got very upset with my mother when I found out she gave it away. She couldn't believe I wanted it, and I don't know that I could have actually taken it given space limitations in my various apartments in Boston over the years, but I at least wanted the chance to keep it. It was out of date, of course, but it then offered a snapshot of the world at that point in time. I often went back to the copyright page to see the year it was published, even as a kid. I loved knowing that this was the world that year, this was how it was understood.

I got additionally upset when I saw that people were making these:

How cool is that?! omg.

So now the news that the good folks at Encyclopedia Britannica are going all... wiki. I guess they resisted for some time, but eventually gave in to this culture of consumers creating, right?

I want to trust at least this is the case:

By editing all changes to its core base of information before they are posted online, Britannica, which has been online since 1994, hopes to create a trusted source that takes into account the input of the crowd. Members of the company's community of scholars and registered users will be able to post about new topics without intervention, but the company says all articles on new topics will be fact-checked and vetted before appearing in the main edition.

But like organic produce or independent bookstores, I don't know if my actions follow my beliefs as closely as they should. I'm not clamoring to buy a new set of encyclopedias, and I too use google all the time. Of course I do! But I still hope they are monitoring contributions because I maintain that we cannot let any ol' idiot make claims on anything they have an interest in. We've all been at that party when some blowhard is trying to tell you about something you know, and he's got it all wrong but he's determined to make his point. Do you want that a-hole dictating content for the Encyclopedia Brittanica?! I don't.

But I don't use it. I mean, sure, I'm not writing reports like when I used it in 7th grade, but I still would like to think I'd use it if it were in my home, I'd just flip through it. But the internet is, admittedly, so much easier. That doesn't mean I want to contribute, though, and for the record I do not use or trust Wikipedia. I guess I worry that there's nothing stable and trustworthy in this ever-shifting, ever-morphing culture.

But how much value should we place on stability? The world is changing and maybe it's conservative to try to slow it down. Again, though, I see this as a capitalist notion of he who changes fastest wins; he who allows open content most wins. "I can contribute, so I'll do that and then purchase!" Doesn't that seem like contributors are getting duped into becoming customers with a sense of false empowerment?

Super stressed about a job change, heading to these great folks, so maybe I'm just overly sensitive.... Will still keep a connection to publishing and will still keep up blog, but won't be editing day to day. Yikes!

Once again, more to come on that.

Quickie for Poetry

I enjoyed this article by Jim Dwyer in the NY Times, with the tragic news about the end of Poetry in Motion. This was a program in which poetry was put up in the New York subway system. The article is worth a read, with anecdotes about people struck by the poetry they read while staring at the posting in a subway car. My favorite passing remembrence comes from the end of the article, from Alice Quinn, the executive director of the Poetry Society:

Ms. Quinn, who was the poetry editor of The New Yorker for 20 years, recalled the thrill of introducing transit riders to “Wilderness,” a poem by Lorine Niedecker, who lived in solitude on an island in Wisconsin and had an intense but troubled elationship with a poet in New York.

“This poem is just speaking to women who have had difficult relationships and the men who understood their part in that,” Ms. Quinn said. “I watched a woman memorize it from 14th Street to 96th.”

You are the man
You are my other country
And I find it hard going
You are the prickly pear
You are the sudden violent storm
The torrent to raise the river
To float the wounded doe

Who pays the writer?

No one pays this writer, I might mention, but that ain't the point.

For some reason that's not worth going into here, I stumbled across this interesting article by Carol Guensberg from the American Journalism Review, about foundations finding more creative ways to fund journalism. As I become increasingly suspiciously of the news around issues like toxic chemicals, global warming, fossil fuels, Cuba and Venezuela, and more, I was intrigued by this development. As Guensberg reports,

Beleaguered journalists who once clung solely to the business model of paid advertising and circulation now recognize the urgency of developing new revenue sources for labor-intensive newsgathering. For some, foundations hold increasing promise as allies in meeting the public's information needs — beyond superficial headlines and celebrity sexploits — so long as there are safeguards for editorial independence.

This makes sense to me. Of course advertising dollars are going to at least give a certain direction to editorial choices. The idea of a good foundation supporting truly independent research and reporting is pretty exciting to me. ProPublica is one such organization, bankrolled comfortably by California philanthropists Herbert M. and Marion O. Sandler.

I know it's hard for small publishers to pay journalists enough money to support even a basic lifestyle long enough to write a book. This is something I've struggled to figure out as an editor coming up with the best advance I can for an author. It makes sense to find an arrangement where a foundation helps out, without dictating how the reporting should go or what the reporter can and cannot uncover. It's been done before, of course, but it should be done more.

Instead, we're often left, as readers, with whatever the corporate publishers have decided it is we want. I've become increasingly fascinated with this strange process: corporate publishers pick a title and decide it'll be a hit, so they throw tons of money at it. If it works, great, but if not, stop throwing and move on, and leave the author out to dry. It's a system wherein even books, which take so much work and so long, in the old-fashioned sense of actual time, are supposed to deliver immediately, or they miss their chance and are over. We want everyone to decide at once that this 300 page book is worth buying. Reviewers have to get it read and written about, commenters on Amazon have to digest and praise it, producers and editors have to decide the idea is original enough but not too different to alienate viewers/listeners/readers.

It sometimes seems like a big joke.

And then li'l Scotty McClellan's book hits and his publisher, PublicAffairs, actually uses Lightning Source print-on-demand for 7,000 immediate copies! I don't know why but this strikes me as amusing. I mean, what's to stop publishers from putting out fewer copies now and then waiting for the select titles to hit, and then pushing the POD button? Less risk for them, assuming the printing costs aren't too high. But that would mean authors would have less faith placed on them, and the ones that don't work as well will have fewer of their books in the world. It takes a certain amount of chance out of the equation, but it also allows us to avoid phenomenol failures, when massive numbers of a bomb sit around in bookstores across the land.

I guess I'd rather see independent publishers, which may have to be non-profit for this to work, get support so they don't have to risk as much by putting all their resources into advances. Instead, big publishers use their money but then often screw writers in the way they actually print up and distribute and publicize their titles. If Iraq isn't selling, Iraq don't get covered. I've seen this with veteran issues, a topic on which I've published, and it's maddening, but I feel helpless because I can't keep doing the books if no one's going to buy them.

As I make a career change (more to come on that), I think I may continue this non-profit/profit-in-publishing way of thinking to support writers doing good progressive work for the public interest. Watch this space!

Indiebound = Revolution!

I loved the language folks were using about the launch of Indiebound, as reported in Shelf Awareness, as reported as part of their BEA coverage.

IndieBound is not so much an updated marketing or branding campaign as "a movement, a manifesto," said ABA chief marketing office Meg Smith, who gave Shelf Awareness a sneak peek at the program two weeks ago. "We say this is a revolution consumers brought to us. We're giving it language."

American Bookseller Association CEO Avin Domnitz is quoted as saying:

"People are struggling to take back control of their lives and their communities. The big store on the highway doesn't do it anymore. What people want is good advice from people they trust. They want to stay closer to home and they're turning to people from their community. They want a local sustainable economy. And they are rediscovering what's important in their lives: local stores."

What great language indeed!

It's worth following the link to check out the site. They are trying to get actual consumers more involved than they may have been at the Booksense site. Probably a good idea - that site wasn't great for consumer use. I may have mentioned that I ended up visiting this store with my parents in Florida, which was not a good store. Actually, my dad stocked up on true crime mass markets, but I found nothing worth reading. Maybe Indiebound will provide a bit more useful information.

And for more fiery rhetoric, check out the Declaration of Indiebound, and sign on!

Indies get applause

This Publishers Weekly article by Jim Milliot is all about how much everyone, corporate publishing marketing types and all, lurves independent booksellers. Loves loves loves. If you love them, have a quick read. It's short, I promise.

I was surprised by the numbers. It opens:

Even though two recent studies have put their market share at below 10%, independent booksellers are as critical to publishers as they have ever been. In an ironic twist, the very fact that the number of independent booksellers has declined severely in the last decade makes the stores that have survived all that more important, publishers say. “Their numbers are obviously smaller, but they are a significant outlet for us,” says Matty Goldberg, v-p and group director for sales and marketing at Perseus Books Group.

10%! Good god. That's ridiculous.

I enjoyed Yankee Bookshop in Woodstock, VT, just last weekend, in fact. The state's oldest! And they are rocking a beautiful yellow color with a series of flower pots of the same color out front. I also got to pet one of the two gorgeous dogs, but don't know if it was Baxter or Zoe.

Fine, I'm listening...

So I suppose I was a skeptic of this crowdsourcing concept. I fell into the group that worried we were lowering the bar to the common denominator in place of letting the brightest amongst us speak up. The idea, for those few not in the know, is that the internet has created a networked world, so now cheap data can be found by throwing a problem out to the networked masses. The linked article by Jeff Howe from Wired uses these examples:

The open source software movement proved that a network of passionate, geeky volunteers could write code just as well as the highly paid developers at Microsoft or Sun Microsystems. Wikipedia showed that the model could be used to create a sprawling and surprisingly comprehensive online encyclopedia. And companies like eBay and MySpace have built profitable businesses that couldn’t exist without the contributions of users.

And mind you, folks, that article was from 2006. So the concept is now here and common and ready to take over the world.

But my fear has always been that you remove any credibility in this equation. I mean, why trust the masses in this way?! Are you nuts? I guess it seems like just another spin on capitalism, shrouded in technology and celebrations of the ever-trendy Geek.

Having said all that, I still found the quote from Clay Shirky in today's brief BEA report on Publishers Lunch interesting. Shirky is credited as the author of Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing Without Organization. I know, I just groaned a little, BUT the man makes a good point!

To quote The Lunch:

Shirky suggests that "the critical question for the book industry is how you deal with a world in which readers can also write and share," and finding "some way to take advantage of that engagement." He wonders whether publishers can establish more subscription-like relationships with readers, whether on an imprint basis or author-by-author--observing that "effectively, Clancy and Grisham have all but subscription models today." He asked, "Is there a way to say 'trust us on this.' Can we involve the reader in a long-term process that's about some emotional connection." As he noted, "one-off transactions are incredibly expensive and they lock the reader out of any kind of conversation."

Now I've talked about publisher subscriptions on here multiple times, referencing McSweeneys Book Release Club (which I joined) and Community Supported Publishing at South End Press. And I like to pretend readers notice publishers and build trust in them, though folks like Christopher have tried to disavow me of this naive belief. But Shirky is telling publishers they might want to think this way, and get into the game.

The email right below Publishers Lunch in my inbox is from the good folks at Alternet, and the subject line is my name and followed by "Citizen Publisher." Now hear this! They are starting to publish books, which has some potential, and they have a whacky new campaign. As the email explains,

We tried something new last week. For the first time in AlterNet's history, we invited our loyal readers to join our publishing family as AlterNet Citizen Publishers. Hundreds stepped up and are now helping us publish our upcoming book, Count My Vote.

Here's how you can help publish this book: make a donation of $10 or more and you'll immediately become an AlterNet Citizen Publisher. Your name will be listed as a publisher in the book, Count My Vote (or not, if you prefer anonymity). And if you donate $40, we'll send you a copy of the new book -- hot off the presses before its public release.

This is bringing the citizen journalism movement into book publishing, and once again blurring the lines between vanity publishing and traditional publishing. It's doing what Shirky endorses, by getting people - in this case, quite literally - to invest in the company, to subscribe, to feel part of it.

This kind of excites me, makes me reconsider the concept. Part of me is still bothered by the central conceit that American consumers, just to separate out my countryfolk for a second, need to see themselves in the products they purchase and/or endorse. Of course, I immediately think of Time magazine voting it's person of the year, "You" in 2006, putting a reflective something on the cover. That was the ultimate in appealing to a customer's vanity, no?

So is Alternet doing something similar? Is the message that a person won't buy a book unless they are in it somehow?

And if so, is it a good thing because of Alternet's (and the book's) higher purpose, trying to push a progressive agenda in a way that uses solidarity?

My skepticism is mixing with optimism, but they are slugging it out. I'll have to keep following these developments.

Are we losing trained writers?

I'm all for young upstarts bursting onto the literary scene, novelists shocking us with a new perspective or non-fiction writers picking an overlooked scab to find something fascinating and unspoken and important. Okay, admittedly I'm not the one to ask about fiction - please note the "now reading" on the sidebar. Yes, I'm going through a kind of noir phase. Just finishing The Grifters and am anxiously awaiting my next visit to the library to get another Thompson book.

But still, I have to wonder where great new writers will get their training, when there is so much garbage in the way. What do I mean by garbage? Read a bit of this Sunday Times Magazine article by blogger Emily Gould and you may understand. Maybe I'm shooting myself in the foot here, people, but bloggers! Omg, bloggers. But I don't mean pinheads like me who go on here and speak about an issue - publishing, green design, fabrics for skirts, webkinz, whatever - but those who blog about themselves, their lives, their goings-on, every gory personal detail for anyone to see. Journaling, which to my mind became a verb around 1993, can be a good way to work on one's writing, that I can see. The posting, on the other hand, is a different animal.

I read the article, even though it went on and on. And Gould seems like a fine writer. She anticipates attacks, thereby in part shielding herself from criticism, but really I'm not here to condemn her personally, as others have done. (She even posts examples.) Instead, I'm criticizing the trend this article represents, which got it into the Magazine. And while I appreciate that it speaks to issues of online identities in today's world and privacy, something I find fascinating, I also fear it speaks to many members of a generation and their collective definition of a writer. A writer is one who writes.

But I have to intercede here and ask: doesn't it matter what one writes? I mean, yes I appreciate the discipline it takes to maintain a blog, even about oneself, but that's only half the battle. Take the discipline, fine, and add knowledge, research, understanding, analysis. A friend recently complained that his employees - he's very corporate and he manages others - were just giving him information right back without explaining what the data meant. They were merely descriptive. This is often the case with such bloggers. They are not just self-obsessed - the best was when my partner found a blog by someone who honest to christ reported dropping a can of veggies on his foot - but they are also simple, reporting for reporting's sake. And going from "I'm going to tell you what happened" to "I'm going to tell you how I feel about what happened" is not what I mean. Can these bloggers step back and put their experience into context?

The fact that so many cannot is particularly frustrating given the advantages of the internet. (Watch as I try to connect this point to the larger point of this blog...) The internet allows you to network, right? Great. When you write in a journal, you scribble down your thoughts about your mom, your dog, your ex-boyfriend, how annoying your homeroom teacher is, and you shut the book, maybe you share it with someone. But online, you can embed links to other sites. This ability should be used, not just to say "as I told cutiekitty29" with a link to cutiekitty29's own blog. If you are thinking about how depressed you are as a freshmen in college, google some crap and link it up! Wish you had a dog? Link it. At least if someone finds your blog and recognizes your feelings, they can click through.

So all these people talk about books turning into electronic rooms which people will enter and with which people can interact. This has some promise. But from their idealism to this reality in a generation of people so used to internet access, and I just don't know. I know it's luddite thinking to suggest that things becoming too convenient will lead to laziness, but I also worry about the next generation of writers. I worry for writing when people have 0 attention spans and are so self-obsessed.

What should I look to in hoping to assuage my fears?

I suppose MFA programs, and great literary journals, and places like Grub Street. I just want to know that people are working at their writing, and reading good writers, and learning about stuff that isn't just what's in front of them in their lives.

These bloggers got me a little de-pressed, man. Some blogs are just like horrible overheard cellphone calls typed up. What bothers me most? Some of them, due to the inherent voyeuristic thrill, are such easy reading, they go down like sugary candy. But then? You get cavities of stupidity.

Yeah, I said it. But at least my rant's done.

"Reverse gentrification of the literary world"

The publisher is Akashic Books, an independent, Brooklyn-based publisher of mostly fiction and some non-fiction, started by punk rocker Johnny Temple. I knew of Akashic of course, and really enjoyed an adorable, clever, and engaging novel they published called The Boy Detective Fails by Joe Meno. I read it over a few bus trips back and forth to NYC one August. But I learned more about this small publisher, with just four employees, because of this article by Jamilah King, over at Wiretap Magazine. It's a nice Q&A with Temple that offers a good sense of Akashic's publishing mentality.

Temple is doing just what indies do best, which he sums up well in explaining why much of their fiction comes from a dark place, so much that it becomes a common theme: "it's definitely my own aesthetic taste, and we're a company that publishes things based on an aesthetic vision, not a marketing vision. I think following marketing trends is just a soulless approach to working with art. " Hurrah! Right on. In comparing the worlds of music and literature, he later says, "there are also a lot of dynamic independent companies who pursue aesthetic visions as a counter to the bottom-line mandate." And thank god for them, right?

Since WireTap is geared toward a younger readership, I believe, King then asks if he has advice for anyone looking to get into publishing, and Temple answers very truthfully:

I would say that if your main goal is to make money and a good living, then don't come into publishing. [Laughs] It's a humbling business. People need to make a living, but it's not a place for people looking to discover the next "big hit." That goes back to the reverse gentrification motto. The publishing world is in itself a socioeconomic stratum, and some of the people don't need to be making very much money.

But we do need new life, and new blood. I encourage any motivated young person to get into publishing. I love it. I feel so lucky to do what I do, but the hope of ever making "real" money isn't realistic.

Very true. And I can say with honesty that it's a frustrating exercise in watching people who don't need to make money fill the ranks. I say that as someone who has repeatedly sought out other forms of income to make due as I work in publishing, and it's exhausting.

But that's for another post. For now, check out Akashic and pick up a book. I for one, in going through my mystery writers phase, am interested in some of the noir stuff. After my Denise Mina frenzy, with all of her smart books set in Glasgow, I love the idea of their noir series:

On the heels of the stunning success of the summer '04 award-winning bestseller Brooklyn Noir, Akashic Books launches a groundbreaking series of original noir anthologies. Each book is comprised of all-new stories, each one set in a distinct neighborhood or location within the city of the book.

I'd like to see Boston or an even more obvious candidate, Houston, but I can certainly find something in this selection I'd enjoy. You?

Buying into a Bookstore

Well this idea has reared its head before, but it looks like someone has latched onto the checks many of us received from the government to maybe, possibly... make it happen!

Stimulating Reading is the idea, from the sharp brain of one Jessica Stockton Bagnulo, keeper of the Written Nerd blog. You may remember her from such prizes as the Brooklyn Public Library prize, in which she won $15,000 to start her own bookstore. Apparently, that wasn't quite enough - which is fair.

Though the idea isn't entirely fleshed out yet, this bookseller, currently employed by McNally Robinson in NYC, wants to open an independent bookstore in Brooklyn, and now wants you to consider kicking in your recent government check to make it happen. Simple and effective! I'm most appreciative of this point, from her blog:

I don't want to twist your arm -- I'm just offering an option. And especially if you're someone who has mixed feelings about the wisdom of the stimulus rebate to strengthen the economy, this is one way to spend it more purposefully than just by, say, buying new clothes.

Well said. I don't know if this can work, but if it does, it may be a model others can follow - outside of Brooklyn, which if one reads industry blogs, websites, magazines and what-not, seems to be overrun with independent literary ventures!

(I'd like to mention quickly that the Written Nerd post also has some great links, so be sure to do some clicking while reading about this idea.)

I suppose similar things have been done, as with the Brazos Bookstore in Houston, but not on this small a level. I'll be sure to watch Stimulating Reading to see how it goes. Good luck!

Can we talk about *selling* them for a bit?

I know this is about publishing books, but I sometimes drift into bookselling issues. Blame Shelf Awareness - they have some great stories. And they included this article in today's daily email:

*******
Single Development Seeking Independent Bookseller

Here's an unusual pitch: a major suburban commercial developer is seeking an independent bookseller to be part of the mix in one of its new projects.

The real estate corporation Edens & Avant is developing a mixed-use space in Fairfax County, Va., near Washington, D.C., that's designed to emulate an urban neighborhood. Named the Mosaic District, it will be comprised of individual buildings created on a grid with shops at street level and upper portions devoted to residential and corporate use. Edens & Avant is seeking an independent bookstore to join its roster of retailers.

"We want to make it feel more like a great urban shopping street and less of a mall type environment," said Jessica Bruner, director of retail leasing. Although there will be some national retailers, regional and local purveyors will make up a significant portion of the stores, separating it in substance and style from Tysons Corner Center, one of the largest shopping malls in the country located a few miles away in McLean, Va.

The privately-held Edens & Avant has built 130 shopping centers in the Northeast, traditionally anchored by brand-named merchants. "We always try to put together the best merchandising mix for the project we're developing," said Bruner. "For the Mosaic District we'd like to go in a different direction and bring in more urban concepts and more unique retailers. We feel strongly about having a local bookstore that brings in local crowds and gives it a different bent."

Consumer spending power in Fairfax County should support the endeavor: Forbes reported earlier this year that it's the richest county in the U.S. "This area of northern Virginia, based on its wealth and education, is really missing a niche bookstore," said Bruner, "We've been approached by Barnes & Noble, but for this project specifically we'd like to have an independent."

Along with 600,000 square feet of retail space, the Mosaic District will feature restaurants, a movie theater and other entertainment venues, parks and other community space, and a hotel. "Different spots will be active at different times so it will really feel like a city grid," said Bruner. A full-time marketing person will coordinate events in the Mosaic District, including jazz and movie nights in the park, a farmers market and fashion shows. The location and size of the bookstore space is flexible, noted Bruner, although she envisions it along one of the parks so that a newsstand can also be operated. Either a brand-new store or an outpost of an existing business would be considered.

Edens & Avant expects to break ground on the Mosaic District this fall, and development will take place over a three-year period. Will an independent bookstore be among its shop fronts? Bruner hopes so. Local and independent retailers "are keys to our project and establishing our identity," she said.--Shannon McKenna SchmidtJessica Bruner can be contacted at jbruner@edensandavant.com and Bryce Baschuk at bbaschuk@edensandavant.com.

*******

Pretty cool, no?

Part of me is thinking, do we need another shopping center of any kind in the world? Part of me is hoping they build as "green" as possible. And part of me is happy that people still associate independent booksellers as necessary to create a sense of community.

For myself, I didn't buy anything - please note my shame - but I did stop into the Cornerstone Books in Salem last night, and it was a wonderful, clean, well-designed space - with cafe. Just wanted to give it a quick plug.

Have to go write a very long editorial letter now...

You can love books or you can loooove books...

I'm a bit behind, admittedly, but Shelf Awareness included a link to this light, fun article by David McKie from the Guardian (UK) about one man who loved books too much. Sir Thomas Phillips, apparently, went from bibliophilia to bibliomania over a lifetime in the 19th century. To be more precise, "Vello-mania, he called his condition, because it ran as much to the purchase and hoarding of documents as it did to books." Surely this sounds awkwardly familiar to some of us: "The books and documents took over the house. The family - two wives, three daughters of the first marriage - knew their place: second best to the books and to boxes, some of which stood for several years waiting to be unpacked."

I was intrigued by a comment left about a writer named Al-Jahiz. There seems to be some question as to how he died, given that it was in the year 868, but one theory, on this essay by David Tschanz and elsewhere, is that his passing came "as a result of an accident in which he was crushed to death by a collapsing pile of books in his private library." Consider yourself warned!

I went to a new library in a new neighborhood yesterday and it was perfectly dusty and the books were charmingly out of date - only just - and I grabbed two Dashiell Hammett books, ones I've been meaning to read for awhile but have not, so I'm actually in a non-hoarding mood. Big into borrowing. But I know we go through phases, right? I'm sure I'll start itching to own again soon.

Of course, the question on this blog always falls back on the same point: will anyone ever feel this way about e-books? Is this kind of coveting, which involves so much waste, really something to preserve?

But then I feel slightly less remorse when reading something like this that gives me an out... should I ever actually sign up: "Eco-Libris wants American readers to put something back for all their bookworm pleasures. It’s encouraging them to donate a dollar for each book they read, so trees can be planted to offset all the paper consumed." This is definitely something to consider as we move forward, books in hand, or in pocket, or in bag, etc etc...

Drinking the Kool-Aid

I've been waiting patiently for Christopher to post again, but he's really dragging his heels. Apparently the London Book Fair and other assorted Euro-traveling really took it out of him. I know, I know, it's pretty pathetic. I mean, he didn't exactly sail around the world, but still...

So Shelf Awareness had a link to this post from a Barnes & Noble employee who also blogs. In the post, this "tgrJams" argues that his Barnes & Noble store, in fact, is "local" to Bakersfield, CA, since he and the other employees are very much a part of that community and he, as store manager (I believe), plans events and charitable donations that are geared towards the community. He's resisting this call to buy local in which people forgo his store for a locally owned one. He adds to this argument in a response to the one comment posted (when I was there anyway).

So I wrote an eloquent, cutting but kind response and tried to post it, but the blog is connected to a newspaper and you have to log-in and it all went to crap, so I'll just comment here. Why am I so insistent on commenting? Because his post is infuriating. I fear this man has really taken a giant gulp of the B&N Kool-Aid.

He keeps acting like a massive corporation like B&N is no different than a bookstore owner. The owner gets the profits, the owner might invest those profits in a house outside the "local" town, the owner just follows the "book craze" of the moment just like B&N, so they're all putting out the same books. He even, at one point, makes a pitch about buying B&N shares! He did it - you can too!

Holy crazy.

In my reply that will never get posted there, I mentioned that I have worked at a B&N, as well as a Borders. The control from the national headquarters - HQ if you will - is strong. Those front tables - and endcaps, and A tables, etc - are not following book crazes, they are manufacturing them based on how much $$ publishers have paid for the space. This disproportionately hurts small presses who can't afford the space, obviously. And the blogger does not go near distribution issues. The fact is, an order from B&N can set a print run, and that includes a small order that really hurts the book. I've seen that happen in my job. The orders are made with a vast majority of shoppers in mind, not minority shoppers - and I mean that in every sense of the word. This system hurts niches, most visibly African American fiction and non-fiction. Walk into most B&N's and the selection of books by and for African Americans is sorely lacking. Now I'm all for this being the case if a store specializing in books of African American interest is or can open, but if B&N puts that store out of business, they are not picking up the slack and serving those customers. They are similarly lacking in glbt books and books in woman's studies. Some of these niche areas have strong books that are self-published, and authors can get them sold at local bookstores by going in personally and making arrangements. That will be difficult at a B&N, where all decisions for display or products to sell are made nationally.

He also tries to say something about the great B&N staff. Ya know, if the B&N is near a college or in a city, they can get desperate liberal arts majors looking for work who are often good readers. Great. But they are paying practically minimum wage. I think I may have made $6.50 or $7 an hour in downtown Boston. So if you get a staff person there who actually knows books - wonderful, you're a lucky shopper. But let's face it: you're benefiting from a marketplace in which there are few jobs for those interested in ideas, valuing instead one's ability to use powerpoint and glad hand. With independent bookstores, these employees are much more a part of the process often times, and can take a bit more pride in their work. They get to know their store and their customers, and their customers' interests.

The worst is that those under payed employees cannot wear jeans or sneakers. Ridiculous. And when I worked the registers at B&N, I had to go into a little windowless room every night at the end of my shift, count down my drawer as an assistant manager watched over me, and then mark on a dry erase board the amount my drawer was off and the amount of money coming in and the number of B&N membership cards I sold. I had to write it myself so I'd really see those numbers - off $.25! Only sold 2 cards! And then a manager at one point sat me down to get me to push the $25 membership cards harder. At that conversation, he also told me that books were a stagnant market, so B&N was re-arranging the store to sell more gifts and stationery and things.

Yep, they bankrupt local bookstores so they can sell you the Disney version of Monopoly.

I don't know what I want from this "tgrJames," but the mix of supposed straight talk and corporate propanganda was just too intense for me to ignore.

AND....

I don't love Publishers Weekly's columnist Sara Nelson, but she makes some good points. I just read the hardcopy of her April 14th column, and I appreciate her optimism about publishing as being, at times, innovative. (I don't, however, love "the common wisdom - publishing is so not about innovation! - gives us license to cling to models we know are outdated." That kind of "Sex and the City" knock-off style writing is mucho irritating.) I also appreciate her writing about Bob Miller's new "studio" at HarperCollins. I've been so slack. Please follow this link to a good write-up on Miller's announcement over at BookSquare, and try to forgive me.

I'm curious to see the Book Industry Study Group's forthcoming report she mentions, even if it's full of things that are "so back-office-y as to be beyond un-sexy." Thanks for that, Sara. Another cosmo?

Now I probably won't post until next week - again, sorry! I feel so... Catholic right now. I know the media is Pope-crazy so that's probably trendy but yuck.

Rushed post

Less than no time here - editing calls in every kind of way - but wanted to post this link to a UK Guardian blog post that is fascinating, about Dmitri Nabakov choosing to publish his late father's final manuscript - actually a collection of index cards! - despite his father asking him, from his deathbed, to burn it. It's called The Original of Laura.

From his winter home in Palm Beach, Dmitri justified his decision by saying, "I'm a loyal son and thought long and seriously about it, then my father appeared before me and said, with an ironic grin, 'You're stuck in a right old mess - just go ahead and publish!'"

Wow.

Now be sure to read the article, follow some terrific links in the piece, and then read the comments. They're terrific! My favorite, from someone calling themselves "rowbottom":

Dimitri, I hope you read GU blogs, I am your father's spirit. I tried reaching you at Palm Beach but you'd gone somewhere warmer. Whatever. The other voice, the one telling you to publish, was a bogus shade. I'm the real thing, and I'm telling you, don't do it. Don't publish. The title's awful. And one more thing, really very very important... ah... wait... I'm fading fast... can't come back... last chance... listen... the cards... I didn't actually...

Why can't you people post this well?

When I worked with an agent, we had some kids of major authors hitting us up for money, and it was always awkward. Sometimes siblings, no longer in touch, would be separately contacting us regarding their share of their dead parent's dough. And you couldn't help but think, perhaps unfairly, "What did YOU do for this money, pal?" But it was rightfully there's, more than it was for some fatcat publisher at times.

But this is pretty slimy, if the great one said not to publish it. You don't mess with Vladimir, surely!

(Thanks to Publishers Lunch for initial link.)

TGIF(un)

So two points for today's post, one on bookselling and one on publishing. Does that work?

On bookselling: today's Shelf Awareness includes a short article by Robert Gray about a visit to Melville House Publishing offices in Brooklyn's DUMBO - on Plymouth Street, for those nearby. (Note: Gray link is to archives but this story ain't there yet.) Melville does some cool books, I've watched them for awhile. They seem to be particularly strong in experimental fiction and lefty politics, both things I can get behind. But their offices... I want to visit. And I can, because it's also a bookstore, and performance space, and other things, it seems. To quote the article:

My first impressions upon entering the new Melville House digs were of light, space and words. The storefront, corner location features two walls of windows. A third wall consists of bookshelves, which separate the retail space from the publishing offices. These bookcases swivel--like secret passages in a Gothic mansion library--allowing entry to the Melville House biblio-laboratory. During events, they can be reversed for striking visual effect, with the books displayed face-out through clouded plexiglass.

And later:

Display tables--some on wheels so they can be moved out of the way for events--are arranged with evident care and artistry. The bookshop showcases all of Melville House's titles as well as books from other independent presses, including Verso, Europa, New Press, Akashic, Haymarket and Soft Skull. Soon to join them will be Feminist Press and City Lights. Cutting edge literary journals and magazines are also sold.

So this is about bookselling and publishing all in one, actually. And yes, I am green with envy. I feel like I should be lying on a bed, legs in the air, hands under my chin, staring at the wall dreamily and telling my best gal pals, in their pjs for the sleepover, all about the Melville offices....

The other link was sent from my good friend Erin Meister - I hope that link is the best, scoop! - who works at Time Out New York, aka TONY. (She's also coffee-crazy, and crazy knowledgeable about coffee - hence the link to her business.) So she sent me this interesting article by Michael Miller that TONY did on publishing, wherein he tries to give some definition to what he calls the "nexus of agents, editors and publicists who collaborate in the attempt to push a book toward the tipping point." Like the Rachel Donadio's article in the NY Times on why authors must wait so long for their books, it offers a nice behind-the-scenes peek at publishing. I'd like to offer commentary on the piece - of course!

Some literary agents are great and trustworthy, but others... as an Editor, you have to get to know the agent. So Ira Silverberg at Sterling Lord says: “We are the first line of defense—we keep it safe to read in America, because most of the stuff that people write is shit. That’s not to say that we don’t make mistakes, but at least we vet the writing first, and thus we are trusted by large houses and thus most large houses have a no-unsolicited-manuscripts policy.” I don't know Ira - I don't work at a large enough house to qualify for his submission list perhaps - but not all agents weed out the shit, and some even tart it up so it doesn't look like shit. I suppose that's when agents are like car salesmen, and some sell you lemons.

Then Miller talks to novelist James Hannaham, a man who should get a few bonus points for that surname. He got a publishing contract with McSweeney's without an agent. Now I'm a subscriber to the McSweeney's Book Release Club - I just got the new Chabon! - so I'm no hater, but this isn't going to make him a star most likely, and certainly won't make him rich. This is a small literary publisher, so one would hope an agent would not be involved - it's not worth their time. It's a huge pet peeve of mine when someone with a relatively small but quality project, especially one that could use some editing, has an agent who is driving up the advance. It takes away from the project itself, because resources get devoted to getting this agent paid, when they should go to the author and the project itself.

And I don't know how I feel about Random House Editor Julia Cheiffetz, in this article, both telling the world that her author's book, in proposal form, could find no love in publishing, and then taking credit for turning it into such a sellable product: "My author Karen Abbott’s proposal for Sin in the Second City was rejected all over town, but the book we ended up publishing was substantially different from what she initially proposed. I like fixing things up.” Bit of an ick factor, no?

Since I'm essentially going through this article paragraph by paragraph - sorry, Miller, I don't mean to dissect - I'll just say about the publicity paragraph that it's pretty spot on. I would warn folks about independent publicists: they do a lot of great work, but they are working for you, if you as an author hire them, so they may deliver a lot of radio interviews whcih are satisfying and good practice, but may not sell a ton of books. I'm just putting that out there. Miller quotes independent publicist Lauren Cerand, whom I don't know: “In publishing, so much time is spent only talking to people who are perceived as already sold on the idea of the book, whereas I’m going to try to talk to everyone in the world who has $20.” That's a better spin on it than what I said. It's more a micro-outreach.

Lastly, I had drinks last night with my friend from the great Midwest, Jason: academic publishing insider and blogger and smart guy. Good times!

So that's my low-level round up, people. Back to, ya know, editing and stuff.

A quote of the day

I feel a bit conflicted about quoting an article by Michiko Kakutani, she of the sharp pen at the NY Times, but I'm not actually quoting her, but rather replicating her quoting of the new collection of William Styron essays, Havanas in Camelot. This blog is about loving the physicality of books, right? And this quote celebrates books and knowledge and the places where it's all held together.

The quote is about Styron's time at the expansive library of Duke University, just before he was sent off to fight in World War II:

“I read everything I could lay my hands on,” he remembers, some 50 years later. “Even today I can recall the slightly blind and bloodshot perception I had of the vaulted Gothic reading room, overheated, the smell of glue and sweat and stale documents, winter coughs, whispers, the clock ticking toward midnight as I raised my eyes over the edge of ‘Crime and Punishment.’ The library became my hangout, my private club, my sanctuary, the place of my salvation; during the many months I was at Duke, I felt that when I was reading in the library I was sheltered from the world and from the evil winds of the future; no harm could come to me there.”

The rest of the article is a review of the book and not particularly interesting; one of those descriptive reviews. But I do want to pick this book up, perhaps in paperback next year.

I have a special affection for Styron, as I worked for his UK agent when I first got into publishing. Before I left, Vintage UK put out all his books in matching paperbacks and I stole one of each. I spoke to him a few times, but never had a memorable conversation with him. His books, though, seem in some ways like the last gasp of a certain kind of writing, one that took skill and time and patience and craft. It wasn't the last gasp, of course, and he wasn't without his problems, but he is definitely one of those writers whom I read and admire, for his solid skill and thoroughness.

And as people say all the time, Darkness Visible is just a beautiful and illuminating explanation of depression. As someone who has not experienced but, like all of us, knows many who have, I felt that much more understanding having read the slim book.

In you case you didn't realize, Styron passed away in November of 2006. He was 81.

Yuck factor in corporate publishing

Publishers Lunch had two links today, both relating to HarperCollins, that I found a tad disturbing.

First, folks, we have this piece by Josh Getlin at the Los Angeles Times, about a new model of acquiring a book from an agent with a film producer at your side, who snaps up film rights right there and then. In this case, it's a book called The Leisure Seeker by Michael Zadoorian. Now to the author I say, best of luck. May you have a great publication and a resounding page-to-screen transition for your literary baby.

But get this:

"We would have bid on this novel anyway, with or without a movie deal," said Lisa Gallagher, Morrow's senior vice president and publisher, describing the company's quick move to snap up the book with a preemptive bid. "But having Jeff right there in the room with us is definitely something new. It's a different model when someone like him is in on the ground level, participating in the conversation and watching as decisions about books get made."

What decisions? Cover design or... editorial decisions? This makes me nervous, and might make the author take stock as well. If that producer is stuck on Brad Pitt or Jodie Foster playing some role, you can see them weighing in on the plot. "I can't see this character - and look, I'm seein' ACTION FIGURES for this guy! - being that mean. He has a likability factor we have to protect." Etc etc... I know, ever the pessimist, and an editor could just as easily push a novel in this diraction or that for marketing reasons, but film people seem even more commercially driven.

And then there's Heidi Benson's piece in the San Francisco Chronicle, a profile of 39 year old Mark Tauber, publisher at HarperOne. Tauber's a marketing guy, not an editorial guy. I'll give him that. But he seems a bit too pro-Murdoch for my liking - and of course, Rupert Murdoch runs the show over there.

In 1999, he boomeranged back to New York to help start Beliefnet.-com, a spirituality Web site that was purchased last year, reportedly for tens of millions of dollars, by Rupert Murdoch, whose News Corp. also owns HarperCollins. Lured back to HarperOne in 2002 as associate publisher, Tauber was promoted to vice president in 2005 and, in January, became senior vice president and publisher.

He is tight with that old Australian monopolizer, and it's served him quite well.

And then the article ends thus:

"Books are not going away, ever. Far from it," he says.

"Digital music? It's better. Digital video? It's better." But nothing can replace what he calls "the actual experience of reading a book, taking a book to the park or propping
yourself up on the couch with a book and a cup of coffee."

He allows that today, books must be carefully marketed, and that some categories, such as reference books, will become obsolete.

"But narrative nonfiction, self-help and fiction?" he says. "They're not going anywhere."

Can we just insert "corporate" before "narrative" in that quote? I mean, he says that with such obliviousness to the indie presses and bookstores getting crushed. But again, maybe I'm just a cranky editor who watches as some books get so little distribution and media, while everything HarperOne puts out goes right on the front table or page.

I need to go do something a bit more uplifting. Is it (community) gardening season yet?

More bookselling stuff

I must say, a fine first post from Christopher! He may also do some live blogging from the London Book Fair, so mark your calendars. That should be fun reporting, folks.

To take off of his post on bookselling (though of the antiquarian variety), I wanted to link this piece from a few weeks ago, a post on bookseller Arsen Kashkashian's blog, Kash's Book Corner. It's a fine place to visit. But this post in particular had resonance to me as it was about the Bookstop in Houston, in the art-deco Alabama Theater. As I started reading this entry, I realized that this place was my first big bookstore, too.

I drove into Houston from a suburb about 40 minutes northeast, where we relied on the local library for books and sometimes wandered into the B. Dalton in the mall for a gift for someone else, or perhaps some self-help or how-to. As I got into high school in 1990, I wanted a bookstore culture of some kind, and in retrospect, I think this is when the chains started their real push. So my mother and I drove into Houston one day, because I read about this Bookstop.

And it was the real deal, just as Kash describes it. The magazine rack alone was staggering. The rows of books were endless, like the library, and similarly, you could just stand and pull books, one after the other, off the shelf, reading the jackets and the first few pages. I went through the fiction, the history, psychology, literary criticism, religion... After only knowing the fluorescent glow of the mall stores, with a dozen short aisles and an emphasis on the most commercial of titles, this store was quite a revelation.

Soon they opened a Bookstop in a shopping center near the mall that replicated this style, though to a lesser degree. This was Humble, Texas, people, known to some as Scumble, so that Bookstop in the shopping center was a bit of a lifeline. (I believe I have written about looking up a used bookstore in the yellow pages, and driving to Humble's old downtown to find this shop. It was piles of dusty romance novels. I was so bummed.) There was no cafe at this Bookstop so no reason to hang out as long as you might these days, but you could feel somewhat anonymous as you perused any number of topics. There was a bookish smell. There was Buddhism and Beats and mopey poetry and photography books with naked people and environmental magazines and feminist manifestos. It was pretty awesome in 1992 or thereabouts.

This is always the struggle, though. Bookstop was bought out by Barnes & Noble, after spreading as a Texas and Florida chain (according to Kash - I didn't realize). But it brought the book world to me. It wasn't a funky independent - would that it were! There was not a real book culture in Scumble then, just highway and quiet old ladies selling fading softcore porn books across the street from the town's oil derrick.

But now I can't stand these chains, as they've turned into beasts, consuming markets where there were indies. Should we celebrate the chains for spreading a book culture or demonize them for killing it? It's the Oprah question, and I for one would like an answer.

Hello?

A beast eating itself, perhaps

I know it's a disgusting image, but it's what came to mind while I read this NY Observer article by Leon Neyfakh about Collins' new president and publisher, Andy Ross, and how his big ambitious changes, including the hiring of many aggressive editors for the imprint, has caused some questions over who acquires what in the giant many-headed beast that is Harpercollins. Has the ship become too unwieldy with all the captains?

The article offers some nice insider-baseball info and is worth a read, even if you're not cackling, knee-slapping, and carrying on as I may have been at points. Thanks to Publishers Lunch for link.