Book-Buying: A Success Story, by Justin Taylor, Megan Casella Roth, Michael Kimball, and Dylan Landis
(1) I came across this review of Dylan Landis’s Normal People Don’t Live Like This, by Megan Casella Roth and published in The Rumpus. It sounded interesting so I linked it on this site in a round-up post.
(2) I came across this interview with Landis by Michael Kimball. It was fascinating. I (or somebody here) linked that piece too.
(3) I decided to buy the book, but then I had to go to Florida before I could make it to the store.
(4) Thought: I could order this from Amazon and it will be at my house when I get back. Didn’t do it.
(5) Thought: [in FL] I should get my mom to drive me from Grandma’s to the B&N. Maybe they’ll have it there, or at least checking for it will kill an hour. But then I thought “I’d really rather buy this from an indie store that I like,”and they don’t have those in that part of Florida, so I went back to reading my galley of Witz by Joshua Cohen.
(6) Got back to NYC. Went to St. Mark’s Book Shop on East 9th street and 3rd Avenue. The store had exactly one copy, which happened to be the exact number of copies that I needed. After taxes, it cost $16.33, which in round numbers is about what it cost to see Avatar with the 3D-glasses sur-charge and my half of the bag of popcorn I split with my mom at the Boynton Beach Cinemark Whatever, with the main difference being that the Landis book is not covered in “butter-flavored” floor polish–and unlike the 3D glasses, I don’t have to give the book back when the show is over.
CONCLUSION: It feels like this is how the system is supposed to function. I got interested in something, decided to buy it, and was able to do so in relatively short order. Not immediately, mind you, but that slight delay seems like it was a valuable part of the process. It helped me establish that my interest in the book was genuine, plus it gave me the chance to yearn a little. I didn’t buy the book used. I didn’t bug the publisher for a review copy. I wanted to read the book, and so I bought the book–new, from a store I respect, whose balance sheet I feel good about appearing on.$16.33 isn’t exactly piss in the snow, but it’s not a fortune either. It’s almost $2 less than the price of two Maker’s Mark on the rockses at a bar I like on West 13th street (before tip). It’s almost half of what a weekly subway pass costs.
And I’m writing all of this in advance of having so much as opened the book itself. I guess if I hate it I’ll wish that I’d had those 2 drinks instead, but I purposely chose to post this anecdote before forming an opinion of the book, because I think even if I don’t end up liking it, the acquisition process still counts as a success story, complete in and of itself. (Of course I expect that I will like it, and in any case will report back once it’s read.) Here is a proposal: Every person who cares about literature should start to do exactly what I did, and we should all do it more often. Once a month, go to a local bookstore, and take a chance on a brand-new full-price book that you are interested in. If we all did this, 2010 would probably be the best year for publishing in a decade.
Tags: Dylan Landis, Normal People Don't Live Like This
butter-flavored books – wouldn’t that be great?
thanks for the interview
butter-flavored books – wouldn’t that be great?
thanks for the interview
Great post, Justin. I was just thinking about how 1. Sarasota doesn’t have any independent bookstores (the one on Main Street just closed down and is rumored to be re-opening as a mac store/cafe/bookstore. Hmm.) and 2. my supporting the one local used bookstore by paying WAY too much for a used copy of Yeats’ Selected was okay because at least someone in that store loves books. And I’d like to see some semblance of culture on my Main Street.
I like your commentary on instant gratification. Impulse buying isn’t usually gratifying in the end.
Great post, Justin. I was just thinking about how 1. Sarasota doesn’t have any independent bookstores (the one on Main Street just closed down and is rumored to be re-opening as a mac store/cafe/bookstore. Hmm.) and 2. my supporting the one local used bookstore by paying WAY too much for a used copy of Yeats’ Selected was okay because at least someone in that store loves books. And I’d like to see some semblance of culture on my Main Street.
I like your commentary on instant gratification. Impulse buying isn’t usually gratifying in the end.
Don’t get me wrong- I love used bookstores. Most of the staff at The Strand know my face, if not my name, because I’m there often several times a week- I want to browse, I need a particular title, or just whatever. But buying a book from a used book store is an essentially “invisible” purchase. It doesn’t apply to the book’s sales numbers, which are especially important for a new title.
I’m actually not as hard on chain bookstores as this post probably makes me sound. If a Borders has what I want, or if Amazon does, I’m willing to buy it from them. And I think that B&N in particular is an example of a good bookstore chain- their selections tend be very good, and wide-ranging, and the Riggio family supports at least some causes that I admire, particularly the Writing & Democracy program at The New School. But in a situation where I can have what I want today, or have what I want PLUS vote with my dollars tomorrow by buying the wanted thing from a respected place, I’d rather go with option #2. I think in February I’m going to buy Frank Stanford’s The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You, or maybe the Jack Spicer lectures, both of which I spied on the shelf at St. Mark’s while I was picking up Landis.
Don’t get me wrong- I love used bookstores. Most of the staff at The Strand know my face, if not my name, because I’m there often several times a week- I want to browse, I need a particular title, or just whatever. But buying a book from a used book store is an essentially “invisible” purchase. It doesn’t apply to the book’s sales numbers, which are especially important for a new title.
I’m actually not as hard on chain bookstores as this post probably makes me sound. If a Borders has what I want, or if Amazon does, I’m willing to buy it from them. And I think that B&N in particular is an example of a good bookstore chain- their selections tend be very good, and wide-ranging, and the Riggio family supports at least some causes that I admire, particularly the Writing & Democracy program at The New School. But in a situation where I can have what I want today, or have what I want PLUS vote with my dollars tomorrow by buying the wanted thing from a respected place, I’d rather go with option #2. I think in February I’m going to buy Frank Stanford’s The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You, or maybe the Jack Spicer lectures, both of which I spied on the shelf at St. Mark’s while I was picking up Landis.
PS- those last examples also, by the way, proving that I’m not speaking exclusively about “brand-new” in the sense of “just-published” books. This is not an argument for strict attention to contemporary releases–though of course that’s good too. I mean “brand-new” as opposed to “used”– buy a book that is being bought for the first time by you. That will mean something to the publisher, whoever they are–Persea in Landis’s case, Lost Roads in Stanford’s, Wesleyan University in Spicer’s, and FSG’s in the case of Sam Lipsyte’s The Ask, which I have purposefully avoided review copies of, because I am very very much looking forward to paying full-price for.
PS- those last examples also, by the way, proving that I’m not speaking exclusively about “brand-new” in the sense of “just-published” books. This is not an argument for strict attention to contemporary releases–though of course that’s good too. I mean “brand-new” as opposed to “used”– buy a book that is being bought for the first time by you. That will mean something to the publisher, whoever they are–Persea in Landis’s case, Lost Roads in Stanford’s, Wesleyan University in Spicer’s, and FSG’s in the case of Sam Lipsyte’s The Ask, which I have purposefully avoided review copies of, because I am very very much looking forward to paying full-price for.
Your reasoning makes perfect sense. Support the places that actually make the books.
Your reasoning makes perfect sense. Support the places that actually make the books.
“Once a month, go to a local bookstore, and take a chance on a brand-new full-price book that you are interested in.”
I sign the pledge.
“Once a month, go to a local bookstore, and take a chance on a brand-new full-price book that you are interested in.”
I sign the pledge.
“because I am very very much looking forward to paying full-price for.”
Yes. That is a good, good feeling.
“because I am very very much looking forward to paying full-price for.”
Yes. That is a good, good feeling.
I like this idea, and I’d like to share a story about how I ended up here, on htmlgiant, which echoes and expands on the point above.
A few months back, while researching indies as potential publishers for my just-completed first novel, I kept coming across the name Blake Butler. I liked what I read about this (new to me) young author. I thought the Featherproof promo video of Scorch Atlas destruction was blasphemous, riotous and brilliant. It appealed to my non-attachment ethos and challenged any precious feelings I may have had about my own work. I downloaded the Scrotal Cash remix (eBook), skimmed a few pieces, and started telling friends about the video, the remix, and the writer, whose work I still hadn’t read. Finally, I hunted down some short stories online. I liked what I read. While strolling the neighborhood after a cafe breakfast one day, I stopped in an indie bookstore. Lotsa good titles on the shelves, no Butler. I told the clerk about the video and the writer and convinced her to promptly order two titles, one presumedly for me to pick up at a later date. I never went back to buy my copy. Instead, to expedite my purchase, I (gulp) ordered Scorch Atlas online from B&N (I have A LOT of $$$ on a gift card… I have to use it, right?). I put off the reading until the holidays when I would have uninterrupted time to indulge. I’m still talking about the book and expect I will continue to do so for a while.
Why did I feel compelled to share this story? I believe in supporting all bookstores b/c new books purchased anywhere support authors (esp. indie), no? I believe word of mouth and getting stores to stock the work of authors I respect is equally important. If all writer-readers (i.e., much of the htmlgiant audience?) did more of this, then more non-writer-readers might read our work.
I like this idea, and I’d like to share a story about how I ended up here, on htmlgiant, which echoes and expands on the point above.
A few months back, while researching indies as potential publishers for my just-completed first novel, I kept coming across the name Blake Butler. I liked what I read about this (new to me) young author. I thought the Featherproof promo video of Scorch Atlas destruction was blasphemous, riotous and brilliant. It appealed to my non-attachment ethos and challenged any precious feelings I may have had about my own work. I downloaded the Scrotal Cash remix (eBook), skimmed a few pieces, and started telling friends about the video, the remix, and the writer, whose work I still hadn’t read. Finally, I hunted down some short stories online. I liked what I read. While strolling the neighborhood after a cafe breakfast one day, I stopped in an indie bookstore. Lotsa good titles on the shelves, no Butler. I told the clerk about the video and the writer and convinced her to promptly order two titles, one presumedly for me to pick up at a later date. I never went back to buy my copy. Instead, to expedite my purchase, I (gulp) ordered Scorch Atlas online from B&N (I have A LOT of $$$ on a gift card… I have to use it, right?). I put off the reading until the holidays when I would have uninterrupted time to indulge. I’m still talking about the book and expect I will continue to do so for a while.
Why did I feel compelled to share this story? I believe in supporting all bookstores b/c new books purchased anywhere support authors (esp. indie), no? I believe word of mouth and getting stores to stock the work of authors I respect is equally important. If all writer-readers (i.e., much of the htmlgiant audience?) did more of this, then more non-writer-readers might read our work.
I’d never pay for Maker’s Mark at a bar.
But I do think it’s fun to finally find something you’ve been searching out for a considerable amount of time. And sometimes you might pay a little more than you expect (or want or can), but you do because you’re so happy you’ve found it. I felt that way when I found “Nightwood” by Djuna Barnes. It was an older version, and it was 3 bucks. I enjoyed every page of it.
I’d never pay for Maker’s Mark at a bar.
But I do think it’s fun to finally find something you’ve been searching out for a considerable amount of time. And sometimes you might pay a little more than you expect (or want or can), but you do because you’re so happy you’ve found it. I felt that way when I found “Nightwood” by Djuna Barnes. It was an older version, and it was 3 bucks. I enjoyed every page of it.
You can buy new books from Powell’s too. We often discount books (signed ones too) and the shipping rates are better than most. Rumpus is good about linkng to Powell’s as opposed to Amazon.
You can buy new books from Powell’s too. We often discount books (signed ones too) and the shipping rates are better than most. Rumpus is good about linkng to Powell’s as opposed to Amazon.
did you ever go back to that bookstore to see if those two copies sold?
did you ever go back to that bookstore to see if those two copies sold?
that made me feel happy and positive, thanks anonymous.
that made me feel happy and positive, thanks anonymous.
you’re welcome. thanks for your work.
you’re welcome. thanks for your work.
not yet, but I will certainly check back to see next time I’m there.
not yet, but I will certainly check back to see next time I’m there.
Dug this post. Maker’s on the rocks = perfect.
Dug this post. Maker’s on the rocks = perfect.
Did you have to return your Avatar 3D three-dimensional glasses? I still have mine.
Did you have to return your Avatar 3D three-dimensional glasses? I still have mine.
i like this story. i support this process a lot.
sometimes when i read something posted in this vein (often by you, justin!) i feel like linking to that post i made a long time ago with the dolphin in it that started out talking about ranking magazines and ended talking about how people discover art, but then i feel linking would seem cheesy/self-congratulatory and not emblematic of my support, so i don’t do it.
but yeah. i think if one has money this is a good way to use it.
i like this story. i support this process a lot.
sometimes when i read something posted in this vein (often by you, justin!) i feel like linking to that post i made a long time ago with the dolphin in it that started out talking about ranking magazines and ended talking about how people discover art, but then i feel linking would seem cheesy/self-congratulatory and not emblematic of my support, so i don’t do it.
but yeah. i think if one has money this is a good way to use it.
Never give the 3D glasses back!
Never give the 3D glasses back!
Thanks for this post, and your closing proposal.
As someone who works at a small independent bookstore, but also follows the indie/internet/whatever lit scene, I often feel very saddened and torn.
It sucks to see so many of the best, most interesting small publishers either selling through Amazon or (and this is what disturbs me much more) offering discounted direct sales to customers. On the one hand, I understand why they do it: they make more per book selling them direct at 25-30% off then letting the distributor and the bookstore take their cut out of the retail price.
Still though, it seems incredibly short-sighted and unthinking. I remember reading on a small publisher’s website recently something along the lines of: “Our books are available through any bookstore but we encourage you to support both author and press by ordering them directly from this site.” This rhetoric is absolutely infuriating to me. As Justin points out, you ARE supporting the author and the press by buying the book from an indie bookstore — and you’re also supporting the store and the people who work there.
(An aside: even though I get a staff discount at the store where I work, I still buy things for full price at other indies, especially I think they made a brave, un-obvious choice in carrying a certain book, and deserve to be rewarded for it [Adorno’s ‘The Culture Industry,’ Robert Coover, Brian Evenson, Jacques Roubaud]. One thing I don’t think a lot of people realize is that your purchases have an influence on what a store will stock — if a given book sells, they’ll usually order more, or at least remember that it sold when that writer or press has a new book come out. Conversely, if something doesn’t sell, they will eventually return it, and will be more hesistant to order titles from that author/publisher in the future.)
I’m sure it’s unintentional, but publishers who do this are actually providing a disincentive for stores to stock their titles. After all, why would anyone buy Scorch Atlas (to use an example already given) at my store for sixteen-something dollars (after tax) when they can get it from Featherproof for ten bucks?
The problem with online sales is this: you can only sell your book to people who already know about it. This may seem like an incredibly obvious statement, so let me put it another way: a good bookstore can introduce your book to readers who have never heard of you, your book, or your press in their lives before. In the store where I work, people come in all the time not looking for anything more specific than a good novel, or even if they are, you can often convince them to get something else. (A few days ago I gave The Way Through Doors to a girl who was looking for Cloud Atlas.)
Remember the recent Stephen King, Sarah Palin, et al. price war between Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Wal-Mart? A lot of the commentary surrounding that mentioned how those stores were not only discounting those particular titles, but by doing so were lowering the perceived value of books in general. Granted, I haven’t seen any small presses doing anything so extreme as marking a $35 hardcover down to $9, but the principle is the same, I think. If you think a book should be worth $15, sell it for that, and stand by that. If you really, truly believe in the quality of what you’re putting out, you shouldn’t have to tempt people with bargains.
Thanks for this post, and your closing proposal.
As someone who works at a small independent bookstore, but also follows the indie/internet/whatever lit scene, I often feel very saddened and torn.
It sucks to see so many of the best, most interesting small publishers either selling through Amazon or (and this is what disturbs me much more) offering discounted direct sales to customers. On the one hand, I understand why they do it: they make more per book selling them direct at 25-30% off then letting the distributor and the bookstore take their cut out of the retail price.
Still though, it seems incredibly short-sighted and unthinking. I remember reading on a small publisher’s website recently something along the lines of: “Our books are available through any bookstore but we encourage you to support both author and press by ordering them directly from this site.” This rhetoric is absolutely infuriating to me. As Justin points out, you ARE supporting the author and the press by buying the book from an indie bookstore — and you’re also supporting the store and the people who work there.
(An aside: even though I get a staff discount at the store where I work, I still buy things for full price at other indies, especially I think they made a brave, un-obvious choice in carrying a certain book, and deserve to be rewarded for it [Adorno’s ‘The Culture Industry,’ Robert Coover, Brian Evenson, Jacques Roubaud]. One thing I don’t think a lot of people realize is that your purchases have an influence on what a store will stock — if a given book sells, they’ll usually order more, or at least remember that it sold when that writer or press has a new book come out. Conversely, if something doesn’t sell, they will eventually return it, and will be more hesistant to order titles from that author/publisher in the future.)
I’m sure it’s unintentional, but publishers who do this are actually providing a disincentive for stores to stock their titles. After all, why would anyone buy Scorch Atlas (to use an example already given) at my store for sixteen-something dollars (after tax) when they can get it from Featherproof for ten bucks?
The problem with online sales is this: you can only sell your book to people who already know about it. This may seem like an incredibly obvious statement, so let me put it another way: a good bookstore can introduce your book to readers who have never heard of you, your book, or your press in their lives before. In the store where I work, people come in all the time not looking for anything more specific than a good novel, or even if they are, you can often convince them to get something else. (A few days ago I gave The Way Through Doors to a girl who was looking for Cloud Atlas.)
Remember the recent Stephen King, Sarah Palin, et al. price war between Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Wal-Mart? A lot of the commentary surrounding that mentioned how those stores were not only discounting those particular titles, but by doing so were lowering the perceived value of books in general. Granted, I haven’t seen any small presses doing anything so extreme as marking a $35 hardcover down to $9, but the principle is the same, I think. If you think a book should be worth $15, sell it for that, and stand by that. If you really, truly believe in the quality of what you’re putting out, you shouldn’t have to tempt people with bargains.
I love every word of this.
I love every word of this.
I think it’s even funner (and I admit I feel solvent enough to do this only very rarely) to go into a favorite indie with no title in mind, ask for a book they love, and buy it on the spot.
I think it’s even funner (and I admit I feel solvent enough to do this only very rarely) to go into a favorite indie with no title in mind, ask for a book they love, and buy it on the spot.
Justin, I’m breathless. Knocked out that you pursued my book from Florida to New York. And you did it with the stellar karma of someone who buys books new. (And at Saint Marks–they’re fabulous, and they really support new authors.) Thanks for that. And for launching this great discussion, too.
Justin, I’m breathless. Knocked out that you pursued my book from Florida to New York. And you did it with the stellar karma of someone who buys books new. (And at Saint Marks–they’re fabulous, and they really support new authors.) Thanks for that. And for launching this great discussion, too.
I love this line of logic! I hope you enjoy the book as much as I did!
-Megan
I love this line of logic! I hope you enjoy the book as much as I did!
-Megan
[…] book-buying success story made me happy for so many reasons that only some will surface in this roundabout (not to say […]