Co-op Shop

Setting up a shop to sell only copies of your own books sounds like the ultimate expression of authorial ego, but in reality authors have been doing it online for ages. To open a brick-and-mortar version, as NASA dude Andrew Kessler has for his book, is an interesting marketing gimmick, but from what the article says the shop is only temporary.

I've often considered opening a small independent book store. I've worked as a bookseller, a book store manager and I've run several other businesses, so I've got the experience. I know exactly how I'd set it up and what elements and services could give me a decent shot at making it a success. Book stores are my #1 favorite place to shop, and I loved my time working as a bookseller, so being an owner wouldn't be a hardship. I'd probably get speeding tickets going to work every morning.

I've always stopped at thinking about it, though; I know I'd be extremely selective about the titles I stocked and what I chose to handsell. I'd also be a snob about features; big names and their cookie cutter bestsellers would go to the back of the store while great reads by little-knowns would get all the terrific real estate in the front. No coffee shop, no cold cases of two-day-old danish, and no laptops allowed. Instead I'd have nightly social readings (something like bring your own snacks, I'll brew the tea.) Free bedtime stories for kids. Book picnics in the park. Weekend retreats at the lake for readers and writers.

I would have such a great time with my own book store. Why aren't I doing this again?

Ah, I remember now. Opening and sustaining a new business also requires a pile of money, unwavering committment and devotion of 100% of one's time, and even then there are no guarantees it will survive more than a year after the doors open. That has to be the worst kind of heart break, too; watching a business you love and worked so hard to build go under. Then there is my work, which is not going to simply go poof while I run a business. While I love books, I know my real passion is to write them.

There is an interesting alternative to setting up your own brick-and-mortar book shop, however, as our blogpals Charlene Teglia, Alison Kent, Sasha White and some of their friends have done by joining forces to create Walk on the Wild Side Books. To quote Charlene: "It's not a publisher, it's a publishing hub for our independently published titles." I think this is a great way for writers who work in a specific genre or have crossover readerships to showcase their self-published titles, and by forming a co-op they can also help each other (and to read more about the evolution of the site, go here.)

If you were going to set up a book store (virtual or brick-and-mortar), what would you stock on your shelves?

BAM Deals and Steals

I made a stop at a brick-and-mortar Books-a-Million today and noticed they had a lot of clearance/remainder bins set up down the center aisle. I also had to avoid the towering stacks of the new Jean M. Auel book (I've decided, I'm not reading it until I know whether or not it's the last one in the series) so I went to investigate. Along with the usual remaindered/bargain books they had a lot of products on sale: journals, audio books, reader and writer gifts, DVDs and leftover seasonal items.

There seemed to be a lot more discount- and remainder-priced hardcovers this time in the clearance bins (this is addition to the enormous selection they regularly stock on their bargain table section.) I saw some novels that have just recently come out in paperback, but even more older titles that probably represent the publisher's pre-OOP stock. They had a range of prices on them from $5.97-$3.00, with most on the lower end of the pricing scale. If you prefer hardcover copies but can't afford them at release price, you might want to browse the bins and see if some of your favorite authors and titles are there.

BAM doesn't always put all their discounted products in bins, btw. Bookmarks that are marked down are kept on the bookmark racks, probably to prevent them from getting bent or torn up. Almost every time I visit BAM I can get at least two or three types of fancy bookmarks regularly priced $2.95 and up for 50% off; occasionally they will discount them down to $1.00.

Discounted audio books, fancy blank books and movie DVDs are probably the best values, as new they can be quite pricey. But while I'm happy to stock up on journals I'm always a bit leery of the other two, especially if the boxes are dented or banged up. If you're shopping for books or movies look for intact boxes that are still shrink-wrapped so you don't end up with discs that have been chipped, broken or partly pilfered.

The biggest steal of all was a bin filled with these little box kits by Running Press. Regularly priced from $5.95-$8.85, they were all marked down to $2.00. A few were in bad shape and a couple were leaking questionable content (in three cases, sand, soap powder, and little bits of metal) but most were intact and in good to new shape.

I love these kits because they make great motivational gifts for family and friends as well as nice little rewards for me when I get through a tough week. They did manage to fit a cute sampling of Paris in Paris in a Box -- more gag than substance, but I'm putting out everything in the guest room for the next time the Euro kid visits. The Classic Art of Calligraphy kit actually came with everything a first-time aspiring calligrapher would need to test their lettering skills (pen, ink, practice paper and a quickie guide book.) I might have to go back and buy a few more boxes of The Answer Deck, a mini-spin on the Tarot, which contained cards that double nicely as character and plot inspiration (tonight after I finish my editing I think I'll open up The Elemental Spa, run a tub and get in touch with my air, fire, earth and water sides.)

I am frustrated with the brick and mortars in my area -- not that we had that many to begin with. The only indy bookstores within an hour driving time for me are Christian-only, rare/antique or USBs. Now that the only Borders left has closed due to the bankruptcy, I'll have to start making a pilgrimage to the only Barnes & Noble left. It's an hour away, though, and with fuel prices climbing the way they are I probably won't visit unless I have to go to that city for other reasons, which averages about two or three trips a year. I don't want to be reduced to ordering strictly online, so BAM (which has two nice big stores only thirty minutes away) will continue to get the lion's share of my book-buying business.

I'm curious, from where are you guys buying the majority of your hardcover and paperback books these days? Are you still trying to get out to the stores, or are gas prices forcing you to order more online? Let us know in comments.

Borders

I was sorry to read that Borders has filed for Chapter 11, and among many others will be closing the last of their stores that is within reasonable driving distance of my house (Borders already closed my favorite mall bookshop last year.) Because the big store was almost an hour away I didn't get there very often, but when I did I always found what I was looking for.

I have some good memories of Borders. The first time I saw a book of mine on a shelf was at one of their stores in South Florida. I held my first booksigning there, too (that's me and my daughter at it eleven years ago.) That store had a wonderful children's section, so I was always taking my kids there.

I think what I most enjoyed about that store was meeting a writer friend there in the cafe to exchange chapters to read and talk shop. We did that once a week until my friend moved away. A couple years later I got a job working as a bookseller at another nearby store that was acquired by Borders Group, and that was likewise a marvelous experience.

I was reading an article the other day that predicted 90% of all brick-and-mortar bookstores will disappear in a few years. I don't like to imagine a world without bookstores, but I tell myself at least we'll still have public libraries. Maybe. If we're lucky.

There are many folks employed by Borders in the stores who have been fierce and loyal supporters of my work. If any of you are reading this, I am beyond grateful for all you've done to introduce readers to my books as well as so many other authors. I am sending my prayers and good thoughts your way, and I hope you guys don't give up, either. You do much more than simply sell books, and we need you out there to keep sharing the love.

Readerhoods

Yesterday I went to BAM, my favorite readerhood, and took some considerable me-time to amble through the aisles and soak up all the good vibes. It's like being in a library, a church and a candy shop at the same time; I tiptoe and meditate and drool a little. On this trip I probably spent as much time watching people shop as I did browsing; force of habit from my bookseller days.

In bookstores, there seem to be two types of shoppers: those who can't wait to leave, and those who never want to. I can actually pick out parents looking for Cliff Notes or homework assignment books for their kid; they leave an almost visible wake of high annoyance behind them. Mall bookstores have become the waiting rooms of husbands who need to kill some time and noticed the wall of magazine racks, random weary elderly folks who couldn't find an empty bench out in the mall common areas, and resentful teens whose mothers wouldn't let them get that really cool piercing at the kiosk of self-mutilation.

You don't really notice the people who actually want to be in the bookstore because they're usually on the move, prowling the shelves and circling the remainder tables while they look for hidden treasures and quick bargains (the 75% off remainder bins like this one get shuffled through regularly.) Unlike the gotta-get-outta-here customers, they make a grand tour, starting at the front co-op realm of bestsellers and working their way back through every aisle. When they reach the spot with their favorite form of fiction, they will stand for as long as thirty minutes in one spot while examining spines, studying covers and reading back copy before shuffling down to the next chunk of the author surname alphabet.

Genre readers at my BAM seem to have interesting common habits. All romance readers seem to read copy first; every time I go into that aisle I see a woman standing and reading the back of books. They are the friendliest/most talkative readers, too. SF/F buffs like to stand and skim the first couple chapters in their book of choice, and they ignore everyone who comes near them. They seem to be the surliest; if you need to reach in front of them to get a book and ask them to move they take it like a personal affront. Mystery readers are usually the oldest shelf browsers (and the biggest complainers to store staff); Manga readers are some of the youngest, and because they're the poorest, usually plop down on the aisle floor to read the whole book versus buying it. I've yet to see a teenager browsing in the YA section (lots of middle-aged ladies haunt it, though.)

Any writers in the store are usually in the cafe letting their foamy lattes go flat while they scowl at their netbooks and laptops and scribble down notes in untidy spiral bound notebooks. Most of them are there to be seen, not to write, and I tend to think of them as performance writers. If you want to really mess with them, walk behind them, pause, and glance over their shoulder at whatever they're typing. Then raise your eyebrows, smile, and move on fast (or you may end up spending the next two hours listening to a rambling description of some over-complicated Starship Troopers/Naomi Novik knockoff complete with orcs and dragons.)

I'm loyal to my local BAM for a couple of reasons: they almost always have the latest releases I want (today I went to see if they had Alison Kent's Icing on the Cake, her first reality-based romance, and sure enough, it was on the shelf.) I found another novel I wanted to read but that I didn't think was supposed to be out yet, thought I had the wrong date in my head, and took it up front. As soon as the bookseller running the register scanned it, she apologized and said that it shouldn't have been shelved, she couldn't sell it to me, but offered to hold it for me until October 1st. Lay-down date enforced! Right in front of my eyes! I felt like kissing her, but settled for a smile and an "okay."

I've had some cool experiences at this BAM, too. During one visit I got into a discussion on Harlequin novels with a lifelong reader who knew who Margaret Rome was and had the same set of handblown lavender subscription bonus wineglasses I'd collected back in the eighties. Blew my mind. My favorite thing to do still is hand-sell to a talkative browser, or walk up to a confused-looking shopper and ask them what they're looking for, and then find that book. Sometimes all I have to go on is what they think the title was (inevitably wrong) and they're always a little stunned when I find it for them.

There's only one bookstore in my area that I've been steering clear of, and it's one of these giant warehouse clearance monstrosity that sets up temporary shop to get rid of overstock remainders. The first and only time I went to the one near me I saw this mess. The weekend sale they had going let you buy any book under the roof for two bucks, and there were big art books and scholarly tomes that retailed for $50.00 + or more new. They had empty shelves all around the store, but instead of shelving the books the help left them piled in the shipping boxes. Any that had fallen on the floor were just left there to get stepped on and soiled by indifferent feet. It killed me to see books being treated this way.

One bookstore memory that has stayed with me for years was crossing paths with a lovely older romance author in a Chicago Borders. She was wearing a gorgeous suit, but I recognized her at once because she's one of those rare authors who actually looks exactly like her bio pic. I thought she might be there for a signing or an event, but while I watched from a safe distance she picked up a couple of books to buy and then faced out her novels. Some of her books were on one of the lowest shelves, and she was wearing a skirt so it should have been awkward, but no, she did this graceful genuflection that spoke of years of practice. I didn't bother her, but seeing her there by herself, just quietly performing one of the more mundane of authorial tasks, made my heart melt (perhaps because I was there for the same reason.)

I keep hearing people say book stores are an endangered species, and it worries me. I realized how much it hurts to lose a readerhood; last year one of my favorite mall haunts closed and became a home decor shop. We don't have all that many book stores in my area to begin with, and to see them close one that I'd shopped at so often, where I'd made friends with the staff and talked books with so many other readers, made me feel a little betrayed and lost. And I still can't walk past the idiot shop that replaced it without feeling a pang of grief and an intense desire to go in there and kick over some overpriced lamps.

Online shopping is convenient, and will probably shut down a lot more of the brick-and-mortar stores, but it's largely sterile and disconnected. E-readers, while even more convenient, also eliminate the fun of those bargain book hunts and hidden treasure novels quests. Getting out there and visiting your favorite readerhood takes time, but there is nothing to equal the experience. I love my BAM, and shop mostly there, but this fall I'm going to make a point to visit all of the other bookstores in my area to spread the love around. I really don't want to see stores end up becoming remainder maulers who just toss books into huge cardboard bins and leave them to be picked over by the price vultures. Books merit better treatment than dollar store items.

Now it's your turn: what's your favorite readerhood like? How often are you getting out to shop for books versus ordering online? Which do you enjoy more? Let us know in comments.