February 26, 2010

Hey! What about the little booksellers?

by

Now that the dust has settled from the first major battle of the “ebook pricing wars,” or whatever you want to call what went on between Amazon and Macmillan, one inquiring former bookseller — in this rather scathing but clear-eyed essay — has a question:

… many of the commentaries about this publishing conflict fall short of addressing an important aspect of this discussion. Essentially the format has been accepted and now the big players are jockeying for control. So I ask you, nostalgia shelved neatly at the dusty back next to poetry, what the hell is happening to bookstores in all this? … You know, those places you wander into, have long arguments with the proprietor and find books you’ve never seen advertised on Amazon or faced out in a Barnes & Noble.

Paul Oliver, formerly the co-owner of Wolfgang Books in Philadelphia, says he imagines the solution is “a sort of hybrid bookstore/blog that serves the role of literary muckraker (ahem), selling e-books online.” Only there’s a problem — “this is about control and not the object itself…. This is because the major players in all this are retailers and not wholesalers.” And the little guys aren’t being allowed to participate in the pricing conversation, either.

And what is left to the small bookstore? To ask communities to get behind them? To hope people are willing to buy something at a higher cost that they can have for cheaper online?

Let me tell you, he says sadly, one of the biggest kicks I have ever received to the nuts happened every day I received the mail of the neighbors who lived above Wolfgang Books. Once a week without fail, sometimes twice, there would be a book shipped from Amazon.

Dennis Johnson is the founder of MobyLives, and the co-founder and co-publisher of Melville House.

  • Michael

    At St. Mark’s in NYC, we *regularly* see Amazon parcels in the UPS truck, right next to our daily deliveries and headed for addresses in our neighborhood, sometimes right next door. For the longest time, I’ve tried to pretend that they’re not books, but maybe DVD’s or some kind of kitchenwares instead. But that’s probably not the case. The same reason that our neighborhood was a good place for an independent bookstore thirty-some years ago (lots of native readers and strong artistic, cultural and political presence) has naturally led to a lot of Amazon patronage. At one time, we were a convenience, and now there’s something more convenient, apparently. What we feature, how helpful we are, how late we stay open, none of that seems to matter.

  • Michael

    At St. Mark’s in NYC, we *regularly* see Amazon parcels in the UPS truck, right next to our daily deliveries and headed for addresses in our neighborhood, sometimes right next door. For the longest time, I’ve tried to pretend that they’re not books, but maybe DVD’s or some kind of kitchenwares instead. But that’s probably not the case. The same reason that our neighborhood was a good place for an independent bookstore thirty-some years ago (lots of native readers and strong artistic, cultural and political presence) has naturally led to a lot of Amazon patronage. At one time, we were a convenience, and now there’s something more convenient, apparently. What we feature, how helpful we are, how late we stay open, none of that seems to matter.

  • http://www.devilsaccountant.com Paul Oliver

    “For the longest time, I’ve tried to pretend that they’re not books, but maybe DVD’s or some kind of kitchenwares instead.”

    It is possibly the most frustrating aspect of any local business that finds itself competing with the Amazons of the world.

    I’d like to suggest a different fiction that I used to indulge in, which was to pretend that the packages contain fetishistic pornography that your neighbors are too ashamed of to ever order face to face.

    Somehow it takes a little of the sting out.

  • http://www.devilsaccountant.com Paul Oliver

    “For the longest time, I’ve tried to pretend that they’re not books, but maybe DVD’s or some kind of kitchenwares instead.”

    It is possibly the most frustrating aspect of any local business that finds itself competing with the Amazons of the world.

    I’d like to suggest a different fiction that I used to indulge in, which was to pretend that the packages contain fetishistic pornography that your neighbors are too ashamed of to ever order face to face.

    Somehow it takes a little of the sting out.