Enrolling in Cozy College

By

Scott D. Parker

I’m going to school again, and I couldn’t be more excited. I call it Cozy College, a year-long look into cozy and traditional mysteries. And I even have a professor.

My Preconceptions

Even though I spent my youth reading novels featuring The Three Investigators and the Hardy Boys, I didn’t truly become introduced to mystery and crime fiction as an adult until 2001 when I read Mystic River by Dennis Lehane. I liked the harder-edged material and started to amass a list of like authors. Couple this reading with my discovery of pulp novels and authors of the past and I was firmly in the realm of the hard stuff.

When it came to traditional mysteries—the kind whose Golden Age was between the world wars, usually featuring a quirky detective with violence largely off-screen—I just never got into them. Throw in cozy mysteries with their cutesy titles and eccentric hooks and I dismissed them out of hand.

But something changed over the past few years and it all started with television. Masterpiece Mysteries and online streaming services showcase fantastic programs from around the world and many of them, while not cozy, are certainly firmly ensconced in the traditional mystery field. I’m thinking Unforgotten, Broadchurch, The Killing, Hinterland, Elementary, and, most recently, Knives Out and Before We Die. What they showed me was there didn’t have to be a lot of violence, blood, and language to create some rich characters and stories.

These shows were traditional mysteries, but not cozies, so something else needed to be added to the mix.

The other thing that helped change my mind also involved television. It begins with the word “Hall” and ends with the word “Mark.” Yes, I’m talking Hallmark, specifically Hallmark Christmas movies. In past years, I’d kinda sorta check the Hallmark Channel’s Christmas lineup and watch barely a handful, many of them unmemorable. In 2020, I went the opposite direction. I actively sought out and watched as many of them as I could. I would earmark certain movies and make sure to watch them or tape them. I’d set the VCR (yeah, really) to record the ones I wanted to finished if I had to go to bed on work nights. I started to recognize the actors, where they showed up in other movies, and basically had a field day in the coziness of a Hallmark Christmas.

That’s when I basically looked over at the mystery genre again with a decidedly open mind about cozy mysteries. Maybe they weren’t all that I thought they were.

The First Step

In December, seeking to merge my love of Christmas, Hallmark, and mysteries together, I went over to Houston’s Murder by the Book bookstore and picked up a couple of cozy Christmas mysteries. I finished one during the season, Dachshund in the Snow by David Rosenfelt. With a title like that, my preconceived ideas were all cutesy things where the titular hound solves the case. I was prepared for saccharine.

Didn’t get it.

I got a darn good book with a good mystery and a likeable narrator who is a chip off the block of past detectives like Donald Lam and Archie Goodwin. The novel was traditional but not necessarily cozy. Nonetheless, I was definitely intrigued, so much so that I went to my Libby app (for public libraries) and downloaded another audiobook in the series. And I decided to spend 2021 reading a lot more traditional and cozy mysteries. But I would need a guide to help chart my course.

Tthat’s when I got the email.

Murder by the Box’s Subscription Service

Just in time for Christmas, the owner of the bookstore, McKenna Jordan, sent an email describing the new Murder by the Box subscription service. In either 3-month or 12-month choices, readers can choose one of three themes and receive books. There is Best of the Month (a new hardcover), Crime Fiction Legends (two trade paperbacks) and—yes, I literally scanned the email quickly to make sure it would be a choice—Cozy Corner.

Bingo!

I was set. One mass market paperback in the cozy/traditional genre per month. I eagerly signed up in December—it was my Christmas gift to myself—and waited for January.

The book was brand-new: Bait and Witch by Angela M. Sanders. With the book came a postcard with a welcome message, the reason the book was selected, and immediate recommendations for similarly themed stories. Like Rosenfelt’s book, Batch and Witch was a good mystery but definitely more on the cozier side. I enjoyed it and am definitely looking forward to each month’s selections.

Maybe all those preconceived ideas I had about cozy mysteries were wrong from the jump. I hope this reading list of 2021—and the jumping off points—prove me wrong. It’s already started.

The Professor Is In

But what makes the Cozy Corner special is the person selecting the books, the Professor at Cozy College. John McDougall is the Event Coordinator at Murder by the Book. If you’ve seen the many author talks via the store’s YouTube channel since 2020, you’ll recognize him. He is the resident cozy expert. I reached out to John this week to ask him a few questions, including how this subscription idea came about and what drew him to cozies.

“A few years ago when Helen Ellis (author of American Housewife) signed at the store, she said she wished I could send her a cozy every month, and that's what unofficially started it. As subscription boxes became more popular, McKenna started playing with the idea of starting one for the store, but we never got all the logistics nailed down. In one of those weird coincidences, I mentioned to McKenna that I wanted to start something more official for the Cozy of the Month and she told me that she had also been thinking about wanting to start a subscription service. We were both really excited to get the program started for the holidays and offer the three different options.”

The genesis of his love for cozies stemmed from him reading Posted to Death by Dean James. “At that point I was just a customer at the store and David [Thompson] gave me a copy because he knew I liked other paranormal mysteries. After that I devoured the Ghost Hunter books by Victoria Laurie and I was hooked.”

“The thing that draws me to cozies is the character development. Cozy authors have to quickly create a main character you'll fall in love with, and a community that you'll want to return to over and again. But there's also depth there that people might not expect based on the covers or by calling them cozies. A prominent trope in the cozy genre is the main character going through a bad breakup or divorce and returning to her hometown to start over. A lot of times, that breakup is the thing that allows her to follow her dream, and the dream is usually starting her own business and rebuilding her life on her own terms. The genre has a lot of heart to it, in addition to some really stellar plots.”

In light of the chain of events and mindset shifts I had experienced, John’s words in this last paragraph really hit home for me. Here I was, having a predefined idea of what a cozy was, and basically, I was wrong. And the two books I’ve read so far have proven John’s point. I have already returned to the Andy Carpenter series and the second book in the Witch Way Librarian series will be published in September.

I haven’t been this excited about “reading assignments” in a long time. I am eager to learn more about the cozy genre, and I’m happy to have Professor John McDougall as a guide.

And it’s not too late to join Cozy College for 2021. The February book hasn’t been released yet. If you subscribe now, you’d have to buy Bait and Witch on your own, but you’d get every book from here on out on your 3- or 12-month subscription. If you’re in Houston, a full year is only $99. For twelve books! It’s only $135 if you're out of town and need the books shipped to you. The other themes have different prices, so I encourage you to head over to their website and have a look for yourself. 

You never know. Maybe one of your preconceived notions will disappear just like mine did.

Year 5 of an Indie Writer: Week 5 AKA Virtual Bookshelves Never Go Out of Stock

by
Scott D. Parker

I couldn't believe what I saw.

Or didn't see.

Gregg Hurwitz: A New-to-Me Author

For a few years now, the Orphan X series by Gregg Hurwitz, has been circling my radar. I'd download a sample onto my Kindle, but never get around to it. I'd see the second, third, and fourth books in the series be published, but still I didn't move off high center.

Until late last month.

At  one of the paperback racks at a Barnes and Noble in far west Houston, I saw OUT OF THE DARK, the fourth volume in the series. Unlike in the past, when I see a book that captures my attention, I read it, no matter what number it is in a series. But when I realized it was an Orphan X novel, I was reminded that this series is one I should try.

So I walked over to the regular bookshelves and pulled a paperback copy of ORPHAN X, the debut novel in the series. This was late December 2019, in that timeless week between Christmas and New Year's Day. As an avid audiobook listener--who easily could have downloaded the audio version, I know--I resolved to read the paperback. Frankly, it had been awhile since I picked up a new paperback and actually read it. (I always pick up books, but don't always get to them.)

I read the entire book, finishing a week ago. Loved the book, the character of Evan Smoak, and Hurwitz's writing style. I'll have my full review this coming Wednesday (as part of Barrie Summy's Book Review Club) but I can tell you now it's a winner.

I was so jazzed to read the next book, THE NOWHERE MAN, that on Tuesday evening after rehearsal, I drove over to a Barnes and Noble (not the same one). I strode past the hardback section--where INTO THE FIRE sat, having been published that same day--and made my way to the paperback section.  I found the Hs and looked.

And looked. And looked. I checked the Mystery section just in case Hurwitz's books were considered mysteries by B&N. You know what I saw?

Zero Gregg Hurwitz books. A New York Times best-selling author.

Are Virtual Bookshelves Better?

If you read my column from last week, you'll remember one of my goals in 2020 is to create an online bookstore. Sure, there is nothing like going to a bookstore, browsing the books, and picking one up to read and buy. It really can be a magical experience.

But what happens when something like the absence of Hurwitz books occurs?

You go elsewhere.

And that elsewhere is either another bookstore or it is online

This is where an online bookstore has the edge. As long as an author is willing, the shelves of the online bookstore are always stocked. You can always find something you're looking for, especially if an author is willing and set up to sell direct to you, the reader.

It's not just ebooks either. I plan on having paperbacks available for direct purchase--complete with personalization. Audio will come later.

Just imagine the virtual bookshelves of an author's bookstore: ebook, paperback, maybe hardback, audio, video links, and more.

Exciting to imagine, huh?

Gregg Hurwitz in Houston

I love the serendipity of me finally buying that first book in the Orphan X series, reading it, and loving it. This coming Monday, at Houston's Murder by the Book, Hurwitz will conduct an author event and book signing. Love the timing. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

The fun of holiday shopping

by: Joelle Charbonneau

I am not a big "shopper".  Going to the mall has never rung my bell.  Not now.  Not when I was a teen.  Nope.  Not me.  All my clothes basically come from one store because I know what sizes fit.  That means I can run in, try stuff on and leave with what I need all in under forty-five minutes.  Huzzah!

But while I don't love going out to shop, I like online shopping even less.  Oh - I get the convenience of it.  There is something wonderful about pushing a button and having something arrive at the door without the need to fight crowds or stand in lines.  But there is something about shopping online that feels limiting to me.

How can that be, you ask?  After all, the inventory of the entire retail universe is sprawled across the internet.  It's not like there aren't options to be had.

Yes, that's true.  There are options.  Lots and lots and LOTS of them.  But browsing online isn't much fun for me.  And this weekend, I remembered why.

Yesterday was small business Saturday.  In the book world, elves in the guise of authors went to local bookstores and helped hand sell books to patrons.  I dropped in on Anderson's Bookshop as a surprise elf and spent several hours putting some of my favorite books in the hands of holiday shoppers.  In the process, I managed to accumulate a huge pile of Christmas gifts that I can't wait to give to the readers in my life.

I didn't intend on buying anything today.  And I certainly didn't know before hand that I wanted those items as gifts.  While browsing the shelves, I was struck by how much "X" would like this book or how "Y" would enjoy a specific present.  I read back jacket copy, admired beautifully illustrated pages and got excited about knowing I had found the perfect gift for someone I care about.

It's that experience--flipping through pages, browsing through racks of clothes or nicknacks or whatever--that is missing from the internet shopping experience for me.  I like being able to walk into a store with the people I love firmly in my mind and seeing things I never knew existed but I feel are the perfect fit for them.  There is something that feels more personal about the whole gift giving experience when I buy the gifts in person. Maybe I'm strange in this, but it doesn't make it any less true.  And as an added bonus, I get to know that the money I'm spending is flowing into my community.  Which makes me happy, too.

Does that mean I'm anti-internet shopping?  Nope.  I get why it's popular and why people love doing it.  But this weekend, I not only got to find some perfect gifts for those on my holiday list, I was able to be a part of helping others find gifts for those they love.  How cool is that?

So, this all makes me wonder...are you the type that likes to shop on line or are there other crazy people like me who need to see things in person in order to know if they are the perfect gift?  Internet or in store shopping?  I have to know!

The state of bookstores

by: Joelle Charbonneau

Yesterday, I was honored to take part in the Iowa City Book Festival.  The Festival takes place in the heart of Iowa City near - you guessed it - The University Of Iowa.  Which meant I got a wonderful glimpse of the college atmosphere (including very little sleep due to the partying of a bunch of aspiring orthodontists who brought their bar hopping into the hallway of the 6th floor) in addition to the privilege of reading and discussing THE TESTING in the brand new Teen Center of the Iowa City Public Library.  I also got to be on a panel called Bookstore Blues.

Perhaps it should seem odd that the panel consisted of all authors.  And maybe the tone of the title suggested that bookstores were in a sorry place in this economic climate.  Yet, the conversation was lively and the booksellers and readers in the room were more than ready to jump in and make the panel less of formal discussion and more of an exchange of ideas.  I had a blast.  Really.  And from today's panel adventure, I have decided several things:

1)  Saying bookstores are a dying business isn't just premature, it is just plain wrong.  Did bookstores take a few knocks from the big chains and and even bigger knock by the almighty Amazon?  Yep.  But the book world love books.  They love connecting readers and books.  They love their jobs and while a bunch of bookstores folded in the struggle, a lot have sprung up to take their place.  Booksellers want to sell books and they are determined to find a way to make their business thrive.

2)  Amazon is great for many things including delivering all sorts of stuff - books, clothes, etc.... to people who live in rural areas and don't get to browse at a bookstore all that often.  Panelist John Adams lives on a farm far away from the nearest bookstore, which means he has less distractions to write, but fewer options for a book fix or for other things that he needs, but doesn't have the ability to get easily.  He likened the Amazon business model to Rockefeller in it's desire to put the rest of the book world out of business and hates it.  Still, he likes the convenience so he shops and gets free shipping to his remote location.  A dilemma?  Perhaps.  And one that many might face.  In fact, I have to admit that very few people in the room actually speak of Amazon in favorable terms....even those who love their Kindle and admit to shopping Amazon frequently.  What does that mean?  I haven't a clue, but it was interesting.

3)  Teen are one of the great hopes of booksellers.  Why?  Because teens and younger readers aren't interested in downloading whatever suggestion Amazon gives them.  And they don't really want to read on screens.  In fact, the teens in the room today said they hate reading books on a device.  They want to read a paper book and they find those books through friend recommendations or book talks given by their school librarians or the booksellers who host book fairs.  When asked to explain why reading a book was the preferred method when teens were known for loving all things technology, one teen explained that she does homework on the computer, texts her friends on her phone and does everything else from music management and social media on various screens.  For her, a real book is a way to step away from all those thing and just lose herself in a story without having to worry about what else is happening in the world.  The other teens agreed and even said they had a harder time retaining the story if they read on a device.  Huh....

4)  E-books aren't going anywhere.  They are here to stay.  But after hearing the teens and looking at the e-book grown over the last year, it is safe to say they aren't going to fully replace the book.  E-books are great.  They are a wonderful package for some readers to consume stories.  For others, the paper book will always be king.  No way to read is wrong.  Just as no way to buy books is wrong.  Those who shop Amazon will continue to do so, but there are lots of other book buyers out there who like their local bookstores and will buy there.  As long as bookstores continue to be active in reaching those buyers everyone can thrive.

5)  Amazon isn't always the cheapest book around.  Yep...this was a point I made and it's true.  My mother noticed this when The Testing came out.  Amazon had it discounted as expected, but Barnes and Noble had the book listed for even cheaper.  And they also have free shipping with a $25 purchase.  Huzzah!  And no gasping....today in the room we had booksellers from Barnes and Noble and the local Prairie Lights Indie Store and they will tell you that they aren't interested in fighting each other for customers.  In fact, they celebrate each other's successes now.  Why?  Because booksellers love books and want to get books in the hands of readers.  End of story.

So, those were my take-aways from the panel today.  Are there challenges ahead for the bookselling world.  Yep!  But all businesses have their ups and downs.  And from the chat today, it sounds like there are lots of ways for bookstores to go up from here.

Bookstores and The Random Chat: An Appreciation

by
Scott D. Parker

One of the more enjoyable reads this week was one from James Reasoner. On Wednesday, he blogged his final installment of Favorite Bookstores series. In this post, “Hometown Favorites,” he waxed nostalgic about the places at which he bought books and comics in his youth. While his history wasn’t mine, he tweaked a nerve.

For me, my hometown is Houston, Texas, the city in which I still live. My book world revolved around Westwood Mall, and the two chains—B. Dalton and Waldenbooks. They were at either end of the mall, almost as far away from each other as possible. Perhaps that was a contractual thing, I don’t know. My parents are readers and just about every time we’d visit the mall, we’d step into one or both bookstores. Naturally, I’d usually find something I thought I needed. With Star Wars, The Hardy Boys, The Three Investigators, and KISS around, it wasn’t too difficult. The key for me getting something was embodied in a single question I’d ask of my parents: “Did you find anything?” If the answer was yes, I got to get something. If not, then I’d have to bargain or walk away empty-handed. Either way, unless it was a YA book, my parents would inspect that which I thought I needed and make a ruling.

Comics were a different story. I started reading comics in the latter days of the comic book spinner rack, located at just about any convenience store or grocery store. Almost as soon as I entered the sliding doors, I’d peel away from my mom and lavish my attention on the racks. In a cringe-worthy move to comic book collectors (of which I am not, at least not in the investment sense), I’d bend all the titles back and flip them upward, scanning the titles and stopping on one that interested me. There was also the “bagged” collections, where Marvel, DC, or Harvey would package three random titles together for one price. I got pretty adept at forcing the plastic back to reveal the middle book. Also, back in those days, before comics became an investment, you could find boxes of old comics at antique stores or flea markets. Plop down a few dollars and you could walk away with hours of enjoyment. Often, I’d have only one part of a larger story, but that proved not to be a bad thing as I’d finish the tales myself.

Then, one day, I discovered Roy’s Comic Shop. All they sold were comics. I didn’t know the word “nirvana” but I knew I had hit the mother lode. They had back issues! I could finally find the conclusion to stories I had read and re-read for years. It was a special, mostly weekly treat to visit my grandparents and return to Roy’s.

It was during this time (later elementary, early middle school) where I stopped being quiet in these kinds of stores, especially Roy’s. I’d ask questions about certain books. I wasn’t yet into knowing authors, but I knew artists, and I’d poll the dudes who worked at Roy’s for information on other titles drawn by certain artists. Jim Aparo was my first favorite artist, and I particularly enjoyed his lean, lithe Batman. Gradually, as I expanded my reading of SF and other books, I’d talk with other folks at Roy’s, B. Dalton, Waldenbooks, and the many used bookstores my parents frequented. In those years of discovery and learning about the larger world of reading, I had many guides.

Even though Mr. Reasoner and I grew up I different times and cities, we share a common experience: the stores we used to frequent are now gone. Roy’s moved away (Third Planet took its place and, thankfully, is still in business), Westwood Mall ceased being a retail space, and most of the used bookstores around southwest Houston closed. The big book chain of Barnes and Noble is now the default seller of books in Houston. Nothing wrong with that because they have most everything I need, but the diversity is lost. So, too, is the human contact. Where the guys at Roy’s would recognize me each week, there’s no longer that common community that Mr. Reasoner experience in his small town and I experienced at the same few stores in my youth. You have to go to smaller, independent bookstores now—like Houston’ splendid Murder by the Book where I still am greeted by name—to get that human interaction. Sure, you have to make an effort to travel to a store like this, but isn’t it worth the effort.

Many of these thoughts occurred to me in the minutes while I was reading Mr. Reasoner’s piece. Another thought also occurred to me: e-readers diminish direct human contact. I am an e-reader enthusiast (I’m one week with my new iPad and I am loving its reading capabilities) and you just can’t beat the offerings you can get electronically. Back in the day, if you were interested in the John Carter books, you were limited by that which you could find in bookstores. It also caused you to read books out of order. Intrigued by the new John Carter movie in 2012? Any number of sites has all eleven Burroughs books nicely listed, in order, mind you, and ready for you to download. Heard about Twilight, The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, Stephanie Plum, Eve Dallas, or Spencer? No problem. All the information you want is literally at your fingertips. More information that you really wanted to know, truth be told. And you can have that data instantly, without talking or even communicating to another human soul.

Can you learn that which you want to know? More than likely, and within seconds. Might you have learned just a little bit more had you engaged in a discussion at a bookstore with another patron about the very same subject? Absolutely.

Let’s be fair: there are innumerable online places where book fans can communicate. I’ve been to them and I’ll visit more in the future. But there’s something about a random chat with a fellow book lover that’s special. Even now, I can easily remember an impromptu discussion of time travel based on Back to the Future with three of my friends and a fellow SF reader back in 1985. That spontaneity is what book stores give you, and it used to be more prominent back in the day.

Think I need to get back to Third Planet or Murder by the Book soon. I need to start a random conversation.

How to Be an Author's Dream

By Russel D McLean

(a response to “How to be an independent bookseller’s dream)

A few months ago, this article cropped up on the web, pulling ire from certain quarters for its allegedly patronising attitude to authors. On some levels, much of what it has to say is good - - basically, if you’re doing a signing at a bookstore, don’t be a dick about it. On other levels, some of it is more than a little patronising (the stuff about not reading too long is in part right, but it all depends on the author).

But the line that gets me is the one about booksellers being “very powerful people” on the night of the event because, while that should be true, some of them do not in any way use this “power” for good. In fact some of them abuse this power and still retain a horrific attitude towards the authors who, after all, are the reasons people come to the store in the first place.

Let me start by saying that I've been horrifically lucky in that ninety nine percent of my signings have been in bookstores with passionate staff, organised events programs and a real passion for the industry. And let me also that having had experience in the retail end myself, I know exactly what I do for visiting authors, and that I have seen things from the other side, both good and bad. But this is a reaction to a whole series of poorly organised events I've been to lately by stores who really should know better (and I've been as a member of the public, none of them knew I was an author).

I’ve witnessed some appallingly handled events recently by stores with allegedly good reputations. At these events, turnout has been poor and the booksellers have moaned about “internet competition” and “dwindling buyers” without even considering that part of the reason could be they are utterly failing to get proactive and, to use the vernacular of the theatre, get those bums in seats.

Let’s start with the basics:

You have a website. Put your events on it. Like, in advance. Like, in time. Sell the event to the masses. Tweet about it. The week before. The day before. On the day. It doesn’t take effort.
You have a window. You have (occasionally) showcards from the publishers. It might help to put those in your window and not hide them round the side of a desk where no one can see them. Because if your public can see there’s an event, they might just come. And even if the publishers fail to do that, hell, maybe you could create some posters of your own. You have a computer, yes? You can create a little document with words on that you can stick in the window?

You might also want to print off flyers in advance, find a tame journalist on your local paper, maybe even work with other appropriate local businesses to cross promote in some fashion. Just because you have an event does not mean people will come. They have to know you are doing the event first. And they won’t know that by osmosis or even just by being regular customers. Hell, get a word or two in the local papers and you might just bring new customers to the store. Okay, this might be above and beyond but in this climate, every little effort helps.

Which brings me to the other point. Tell your regular customers that an author is coming. Tell your not so regular customers. If someone’s buying a similar book, stick one of those flyers in their bags or talk to them about it. No one’s going to know if you don’t talk to them. Hell, your shop is about books. The point of coming to a store and not shopping online is to join in the literary conversation, to feel like you’re having that goddamn human contact. Being a bookseller is very different to other kinds of retail. You’ve got to be a little bit of a showperson. You’ve got to connect with your customers (and at the same time, of course, you have to know when to leave them alone).

If you do events regularly try and keep the formats and times similar so that people can plan around them.

Remember, you’re offering something the internet can’t - - actual contact with an author. A direct and unique kind of access. If you don’t shout about it, no one’s going to know and no one’s going to come to your store. Yes the author, too, should be shouting about it, but its your store. You are ultimately responsible for the business. So you’d better get off your arse and do something.

And when the author does come to speak, you might want to give them a little intro before they begin, maybe give those custombers who came in just for that author a reason to come back.

It’s insane and it sounds like teaching granny to suck eggs, but over and over I see certain bookstores failing to do any of the above. An author I went to see recently was mortified when the store in question had no sign at all of their presence and when the staff simply shrugged their shoulders upon the author’s arrival. And this was a shop that had booked the author over a month in advance and asked them to come overseas to do the gig. On their own dime.

If you have done your absolute best and still no one has turned up, it helps to apologise to the author. They came all the way to your store when they could have gone to that Big Box across the road or just not bothered at all and signed copies at the publisher’s warehouse to go straight out to some internet company who don’t do the human contact thing at all. Little things help.

Like saying, “Well, if you could still sign some copies, we’ll do our best to handsell them. People like signed copies and it’ll help us get a trickle effect so that while you didn’t sell any tonight, we’ll sell them for you in the coming days.” Or even, if the author’s fine with it, getting them to do their thing for the staff, who should still be interested being that they work in a bookstore and our industry should be run by outright passion (combined with business sense). I did this in LA when absolutely no one came to the store where I was signing, even by accident, and it was a great dry run for more successful subsequent events.

And I can already hear certain people asking “why should we apologise to authors?” The answer’s simple: they are your trump card. Amazon isn’t able to offer direct contact. You are. And authors talk, so if word gets around that you aren’t too interested in being at least civil, then pretty soon that trump card’s back in the deck and your hand’s worth nothing*

I’ve seen this from both sides. Having spent many years in retail and many years as an author, I know the pitfalls that can befall either side. But I have recently noticed certain bookstores not pulling their weight. Relying on the mere fact that they are open to draw crowds for book events or expecting the author to click their fingers and pull in sales. It doesn’t work like that. It can’t work like that.

In conclusion, booksellers - as the original article states quite clearly - are powerful people to authors, but equally authors are powerful people to booksellers. Without authors there are no books. Without books, booksellers have nothing to sell. We need each other. Neither one of us is more or less “necessary”. So yeah, authors should be nice to booksellers, but equally booksellers need to do their jobs and be nice to authors.

Because otherwise, from either side, what the hell is the point?

*Can I admit at this point I don’t play cards, so apologies for the poor metaphor.

Indie Shoppe Patronizers: You've Got Mail

By Steve Weddle

A few years ago I was at a newspaper conference at which a speaker was PowerPointing up pie charts about how radio wasn’t really going to kill newspapers. Maybe it was television or the webernet that wasn’t going to kill us.

“Think about the monks and their illuminated manuscripts. If their job had been putting ink on paper, Gutenberg would have put the church out of business. But that wasn’t their job. Their job was bringing The Word of The Lord to mankind. And whether it’s gilded artwork in books or text messages on your phone, the church is still in business.”

Publishers aren’t in the business of putting ink on paper—printers are. It’s kinda what they do. And if your job is selling stories, you’re fine. If your job is selling ink on the page – hardbacks, trade paperbacks, mass market paper backs, copies of Backyard Poultry – then you might be having a little financial trouble these days.

Heck, unless you’re able to piss gasoline and fart AK47s, you’re probably having money troubles.
In the newspaper world, we had to get back to what it is that we do – delivering the news to people. The job is to get information to the people, whether by an inky page or a screen on your iPad or a message on your phone.

A dude asked a teenager where he goes to get his news. Some study was trying to determine the “source” kids were using. “Where do I go?” The kid seemed puzzled. “I don’t ‘go’ anywhere. If something is important, it’ll find me.” Which is exactly what newspapers must do. You have to get the news to people. People have stopped coming to newspapers for news. Newspapers have to focus on what they do, not how they do it.

Readers want the story. They want the experience. Hardback. Paperback. Ebook. Those are just the delivery mechanism for the story, the experience.

Bookstores and newspapers deliver information, experience. You go to the bookstore, not for the thing, but for what’s in the thing. What the thing delivers.

And bookstores, especially independent bookstores, are like the church, too. Many of their supporters believe that the best way to get people into the building is to use guilt.

Look, I am not responsible for their shitty business plan. Or their shitty distribution. Or their shitty deal with publishers. Buy-backs. Remainders. Deep discounts.

I understand why people want to hold on to this idea of a bookstore, of Meg Ryan’s mom reading to children on the floor of Ye Olde Bookshoppe Around The Corner. Of Tom Hanks and Dabney Coleman coming in and putting the sweet lady out of business. It’s a romantic-comedy. Romance. Comedy. And Parker Posey. Huzzah. It’s admittedly comforting to buy into the romantic idea. Of how things were. Of how it was better “back then.” Of how a bookshoppe is the anchor to a community. Dances around the May Pole and Victory Gardens and Debutantes and the Confederate Flag and Daughters of the American Revolution.
Let’s be clear about this. If people continue to think of bookstores as something from the past that we need to save, we’re all completely screwed.

An independent bookstore is not the endangered Fliffle Flower. Please, please stop making this your Cause of the Week. Please stop handing out “Save Our Store” flyers.

Look, I know you tried that with the “Wood You Save Me?” campaign to keep that big oak tree safe from the bypass. Honestly, that was really cool. I like trees, too. And the bake sale and getting Gary’s Midnight Ramblers to play the free concert at the Safeway parking lot probably helped raise a bunch of money for the lawyers to fight the right-of-way procurement from the state.

Don’t you people have a PTA meeting to get to? Shouldn’t you be organizing a committee to get my kids to sell your cookie dough at $17 a roll so that we can get whatever the hell it is we need this year on the playground?

A bookstore is not a cause. It’s not. It’s a store. That Sells. Books. Books that deliver scares and romance, fist fights and car chases. Entertainment. Information. The soul-crushing sadness in a Dennis Lehane book. The other-wordly coolness in a Tasha Alexander historical. The humor and thrills in a Brad Parks book.
Do not treat independent bookstores like charity cases. They’re better than that. They are the ass kickers of publishing. They’re not the family of nine who all lost their home and their puppy in a fire.

Fountain Bookstore in Richmond. Once Upon A Crime in Minneapolis. Murder By The Book in Houston. Farley’s Bookshop in New Hope, PA. Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale. All over the country, small bookstores are kicking ass, doing what they do best -- what the big box stores and online-only sites can't. Book signings, sure. But they’re hosting book groups. They’re places to talk about books, about reading. They’re the community centers for reading. And I love reading. It’s what I do.

And so many of the indies have partnered with Google to sell ebooks right from their own websites. These stores are embracing the “new technology” instead of hiding from it, because they realize it’s about the story, not the ink on paper. If you want ebooks, your local indie can sell you ebooks. If your local independent is hanging up posters saying that ebooks will kill everything, you should tag that bookstore as a favorite in your GPS doohickey. You’ll get great deals, because that store will have a going-out-of-business sale soon. Yes, even though you try to save it with a letter-writing campaign.

See, small bookstores won’t “survive” because you raised $500 for them in your stupid bake sale. Sorry, I meant to say “thoughtful” bake sale. I mean, your hearts are in the right place. You’re just ruining everything. And here’s why.

Your actions are focusing on dumb crap.

“Small bookstores may charge twice as much, but they offer helpful recommendations.”

I get book recommendations from so many places now, why would I pay $28 at an independent instead of $12 for the exact same book? Same binding. Same words. Same smell. “Add in the shipping,” you say. Uh, no. I have the Amazon Prime for free, which includes free two-day shipping. Most of the time, it’s one-day shipping. So I can get into my car and drive an hour to the local indie or order online for free? Heck, now I have to add in five bucks for gas if I shop local.

You can’t focus on price. You can’t say “Yes, it’s twice the price, but…” See, you say “twice the price” and I’ve stopped listening. “It’s twice the price, but you get free Swedish Fish for life.” Whatever. I stopped listening at the comma.

You have to look at what bookstores do well. The signings. The meeting other readers. Meeting writers. The events. Hell, maybe the indie shop has a Local Mystery Authors theme week. Each night, a different mystery writer from the state. How cool would that be? Amazon can’t do that. You can’t meet Ellen Crosby at the Amazon store, can you?

And the Amazon recommendations? If I like this Jim Butcher book I might also like this other Jim Butcher book? I think the woman at my local shoppe does a much better job, thank you, very much.
Focus on this. Focus on the good. Not the "even though it's twice the money" sort of thing. This can't be an argument about price. I'm not paying $30,000 for a Ford Focus just because the local dealer is good at her recommendations. "Steve, I know how you love blue interiors and an auxiliary input jack." Look, when you want to look at what local bookstores do well, you're looking at value, not price.

“You’ll miss the independent bookstore when it’s gone because you’ll be stuck with Amazon.”

Again, this is a shitty business plan. It was a bad idea when newspapers tried it, too. “Don’t you miss the neighborhood bakery?” Yeah. But the old lady in the back of the place there made some friggin amazing pies. The difference between Mrs. Mangianni’s pecan pie and Mrs. Smith’s is the difference between the Arsenal Gunners and the Cooke County Duckies. The difference between my copy of Wallace Stroby’s newest that I got from Amazon and the copy you got from Meg Ryan’s shoppe? I paid nine bucks and had it at my front door in a day. You went to the local independent, which had to order it for you. For $26.

You can’t sell people a negative. You can’t tell them that if they don’t pay $26 for a hardback that they’ll be stuck paying nine.

See, when something is gone, you learn to live without it. When my subscription to Curmudgeon Weekly lapsed, I realized I could live without it. I got the articles online. Sure, I had to click through an ad for The Number One Tip To Remove Belly Fat And Whiten Your Teeth That Doctors And The Liberal Media Don’t Want You To Know, but it worked out fine.

The “you’ll be sorry when your subscription expires” argument? Yeah. I was. I got over it. Stop selling the independent bookstore as an alternative to Amazon. It isn’t. The indie isn’t an alternative to anything. No one can do what they do. You have to sell what it is the local bookstore does, not what it can’t do.

And why did the local bakery close? When I lived on the Chesapeake Bay, we had a town full of these little cutsie shops. Their hours were Wednesday through Saturday, Noon until 5 p.m. -- "And By Chance."
Two of these were bookstores. They're closed now that the town has a Walmart. Walmart doesn't open "By Chance." Walmart wants to be around next year.

“Bookstores bring in local tax dollars, so shop locally instead of at Amazon.”
Seriously? That’s what you got? Danny’s Dildo Emporium on West Highland employs 19 full-timers, while Meg Ryan’s Indie Store employs three, counting Meg. You want more tax dollars, go buy a bag full of dildos.
Who brings in more sales tax to the town? Meg’s shoppe or Barnes and Noble?

And weren’t you the same mini-van full of people parading against Walmart last month? If the argument is “Independent bookstores should be supported because they bring in local tax money,” then you have a few problems. First, that’s a passive sentence. Clean up your writing, dillweed. Second, the guy who lives three doors down from me works for UPS. The online retailers keep him pretty busy. Third, how much tax revenue exactly does the Meg Ryan Independent generate?

Careful. It’s a trap. If you say it’s a nice hunk of money, then I’ll say bookstores aren’t in danger, so shut up. If you say it isn’t much money, then I’ll say “then who the hell cares, so shut up”?

So stop trying to guilt people into spending more than they can afford on books. Stop telling me I'm an evil bastard for reading on my Kindle, for buying a Bargain Book at B&N, for not "supporting" the indie cause, not "patronizing" my local.

Every time I visit a small, independent bookstore, their dedication and passion come blazing through those kick-ass display windows full of books I should be reading.

Focus on what the small bookstores do so well. Ever try to browse for books at Amazon? Ever try to ask a clerk there for help?

While you're holding bake sales and blathering about how independent bookstores aren't surviving, so many of them are focused on what they do best -- and thriving.

Stored

By Russel D McLean

Tonight (sans camera since I didn't charge the batteries, but take my word for it, I was there), I attended the (re)opening party of the Edinburgh Bookshop. The bookshop – a fully functioning independent – grew from the Children's Bookstore in Edinburgh and is run by the not only knowledgeable but quite fearsome (in the best sense) Vanessa, a woman with the kind of drive and vision to truly run an independent. I have been in to the store a few times during visits to Edinburgh and have been impressed as a customer and an author. They make no promises to stock, but you get the impression that Vanessa and her staff are really paying attention and that if they don't stock a title they probably have a reason.

There are not a huge number of indy bookstores in Scotland. Or at least not many that seem to have crossed my path (if you are or you know a Scots indy, let me know in the comments). Those that we do have, I try to support as much as possible because I am a believer in the power of booksellers – be they passionate independent or well-informed chain – and think that, along with music stores, the bookstore is one of those places we truly need as consumers* in a real and physical sense.

Why? Because books – and often music – are commodities that can still be sold on the basis of passionate pushers. One of the joys of bookselling (and I've been involved in the front lines of the trade for close to ten years now although I don't mention my employer just in case I say something as a writer to embarras them!) is that you watch other people discovering books. The apparently idle banter between bookseller and customer creates passionate consumers, sometimes every bit as passionate as the pushers.

The first time I went into the Edinburgh bookshop I encountered a kind of passion and expertise I hadn't seen in a while. This was before I let them know of my status as “published author”. Now when I'm in the city, if I can I pop my head in the door. Because I felt welcome, because they made me want to support them. Its the same with a Dunkeld independent whom I will always hold in regard as they were the ones who sold my book to Rab C Nesbitt's “wife”, Elaine C Smith and earned me a mention in her books of the year for the Glasgow Herald. This was something they didn't have to do, but they did.

Of course not all bookstores (indy or not) are wonderful. I know of one store I can't be arsed returning to because I went in several times, found myself as both a customer and an author rebuffed with an air of “and why should we care?” that wouldn't have been out of place in an episode of Black Books. I'm not asking to be an exclusive customer or for VIP treatment, but you could at least be polite about things.

But bookshops in general – the good ones, the ones that make us passionate about books – are places to be cherished and supported. I beg, plead, with you not to use bookstore staff as mere resource and then go get the books off amazon. Yes, I know there's a cost thing but even if you bought one book in every three out of a real shop, you'll realise their value. And you'll help to maintain a service that – trust me – you'll miss when its gone.

I love bookstores. I love booksellers. As a reader, and as a writer, I have encountered so many passionate and knowledgeable sellers, people who remind us why we read, who can help us discover new and unread (at least to us) voices. I love to hunt around online, but nothing beats a bookstore. And if we don't use them, we'll soon realise how much we miss them.

So here's to stores like the Edinburgh Bookstore, carrying the torch for the joy of books. And may they, like so many other fine stores the world over, go from strength to strength and keep The Word alive.

*by the way, just to remind you of that US tour, you'll notice that every store visited is an indy. This is not entirely coincidence.