Katie Yee’s 11.8.19 Literary Hub piece “Here’s Why You Should Preorder All Your Books From Independent Bookstores” opens by asking “Who doesn’t love an independent bookshop?” and reminds us about charming bookstores from popular films like You’ve Got Mail, Notting Hill and Funny Face. Yee’s article (link below) directs us to Andrea Bartz’ recent Twitter on this very topic as well as Celeste Ng’s 2018 “Bookstores Are The Center of The Literary Ecosystem”, both strongly encouraging (or even admonishing) book buyers to make their purchases from independent booksellers, preordering forthcoming titles in particular, since preorder data can impact booksellers’ ordering choices and even bestseller lists. For those who shrug and point out that they simply don’t have an indie bookseller nearby (which I’m certain comprises a lot of people) there are still alternatives like Indiebound.
There was a time not so long ago when you couldn’t pass an urban shopping strip or suburban mall without a chain bookstore. At their peak (if I’ve read accurate sources), there were over 3,200 chain bookstore locations in the U.S. Now there are fewer than a thousand, those being some 600+ Barnes & Noble and 250+ Books-A-Million locations.
B. Dalton (a B&N subsidiary), Borders, its Waldenbooks subsidiary, Crown, and Hastings have vanished. The book distribution arena has also changed, with consolidation among some smaller and regional distributors, and most notably, Baker & Taylor departing the trade book business altogether. Until quite recently, there wasn’t a single independent bookstore near me. I now have one very close by, and a charming store it is. There’s another not too far away, part of a small local chain, though neither of these can boast superstore level title selections. I do have three Barnes & Noble locations reasonably close to home or work.
Support local independent booksellers? I do, and encourage you to do so too. But I won’t hiss at anyone who also shops Barnes & Noble and/or Amazon.
I don’t go along with the anti-superstore attitude. Like it or not, Barnes & Noble (under new ownership itself now) is the only standalone operation with enough muscle to pose any credible opposition to Amazon’s complete takeover of the bookselling marketplace. And while I never chase discounts, I do buy from Amazon as well, though typically oddities or OOP titles unavailable elsewhere. Friends and family members in remote rural regions rely on Amazon for books and more, and I suppose if I resided elsewhere, I would too.
I’ll continue to pester bookstore clerks with my screen-cap printouts and scribbled notes to order/preorder books, some few that they’ll be getting anyway, some others that require deep digging to locate. But I won’t feel guilty strolling the aisles at Barnes & Noble, particularly the sprawling magazine racks. And if I can only get some smaller-than-small press title or ancient used book from the behemoth in Seattle, I’ll be glad Amazon exists. Where I get my books isn’t my problem.
Where the hell to keep them all at home is the real challenge.