A blog post at Passive Voice which was an excerpt of a longer essay by Melville House’s Dennis Johnson sparked a lot of discussion about Barnes & Nobles and what its weakened market position might mean for writers and readers among Sisters in Crime members. I started to respond, then realized my email had gotten too long for any reasonable person to read, so decided to stash it here instead.
Dennis Johnson’s essay argued that all book sales suffer, regardless of format or channel, when it gets harder for people to browse a large selection of printed books, an experience uniquely offered (at least for most people, who had never before had access to a large bookstore) by Borders and B&N, that the chain stores promoted books in a way that indies will have trouble providing because they can’t afford to carry the variety of titles the big box chains did. Johnson says the showroom nature of the big box stores provided important exposure to the market that drove sales of ebooks as well as print books – but since B&N couldn’t direct that exposure exclusively to their own platform, and because they started stripping their shelves to redirect their liquid capital and force more consumer attention on their devices, this showroomishness didn’t translate into sufficient ebook sales to keep B&N balance sheets healthy.
But what is the cost of that kind of showroom? It may be hard to find new ways of browsing that work as well as the big box bookstores, but that operation was enormously expensive. Publishers loved the exposure but hated the returns, which were far quicker and extensive with a vast automated system organizing the process. Customers loved the variety and sense of abundance, but books were there to create the illusion of choice; a huge percentage were returned so new book wallpaper could go up regularly. And the number and size of stores grew impossible to support when the real estate bill came due. (Some argue bad investments in overpriced real estate and the resulting debt service is what sank Borders.)
The number of books on the market has risen enormously. Even if B&N continued to fill big stores with a variety of books, they couldn’t possibly all stock the roughly 350,000 books published traditionally in the US last year, let alone the 1.5 million total, once you add in self-published titles with ISBNs. Amazon can, because it doesn’t need to actually have real estate to provide exposure. They just have to have a vast database. (Yes, they have warehouses full of stuff, but their showroom is the virtual sales platform.)
Public libraries argue they are showrooms and great engines for growing the market for books, but they too have limited real estate and budgets, and publishers by and large don’t believe libraries are a value proposition (read for free? how can that be good?) so are asking libraries to either pay extraordinary prices for one-reader-at-a-time ebooks or are making them unavailable altogether. Libraries’ potential role in discovery is being limited by design.
What does this mean for book discovery?
I think networked curation is the next logical step. Word of mouth is the most frequent means of discovering new authors, and it is abundant online, so finding a way to aggregate and personalize that flow of information and present it in some easy to explore format (so that people can get a good feel for a book before they decide to read it) is important. If what’s on offer is too diffuse, it’s too unfocused, so not personalized; too narrow, and it’s idiosyncratic and personalized only for the curator. Amazon has tried to create this personalization by algorithm, but it has the clunky results that happen when recommendations are based on purchases made for a wide variety of reasons other than personal reading decisions. (You just bought a Lawrence Block burglar book. You may also want to buy an alarm system! Uh, no.) Besides, people grow distrustful quickly if the recommendation has any whiff of marketing or advertising attached to it.
For me, the best reading suggestions comes from like-minded readers who I hang out with in neutral spaces online. There is some cost associated with this method. I have to spend enough time in these communities to know which people have tastes like mine and which love books I don’t. I have to contribute to these communities, or the flow of recommendations might cease. They depend on reader interaction. I often get interested in books that aren’t available in the US market and certainly aren’t available in any local bookstore, and that can be frustrating.
But it’s far, far better than nothing, and nothing is the alternative. I live in a small town without a well-stocked bookstore and a very small public library, so physical browsing opportunities are frustratingly limited for avid readers. There aren’t enough mystery fanatics in my face to face circles to learn from them (though I can get decent recommendations for other kinds of fiction). This makes for an interesting dilemma: my taste-shaping circles are borderless self-created communities. Amazon is, likewise, a borderless retail operation that doesn’t have to limit itself to physical geography and that can quickly provide almost anything I have identified as something I want. It works well if discovery happens somewhere else.
Not many brick and mortar bookstores will have in stock what I’m seeking, and though they can order it, the instant gratification a store can offer by anticipating my interests in advance is more than ever likely to turn into instant dissatisfaction. (The exception is Once Upon a Crime, a genre-focused store that almost always has what I want, but since I live quite far away, they have to mail books to me. I can live with that.) Readers who don’t think about what booksellers are up against – the rental cost per square foot of shelf space, the difficulty of tying up cash in inventory that may not sell for months if at all, the difficulty of choosing among the tens of thousands of titles available which ones might turn out to be in high demand – are likely to conclude Amazon works better.
The kind of discovery a physical store offers is quite different than online communities or online retail algorithms. It’s built out of the intersection of a local reading community, a knowledgeable staff, and visiting authors, book clubs, and other events that offer an occasion to gather and experience something with others. It won’t easily satisfy the reader who only wants to stop in long enough to buy a particular book. It depends on investments in time and personal interaction that create a sense of belonging and common cause. Bookstores that thrive (and many do) are not just providing books, and are not just serving as a place to see what’s been published. They become a place where people share a love of books at a local level – because they discover neighbors who share the same passions. And they accept the limited stock as lovingly selected to match local interests, much as a local food coop may have fewer products on their grocery shelves but nobody feels the selection is meager, it’s merely more thoughtful and reflects the coop members’ shared interests.
To some extent, book reviewing is going through a similar discover crisis. Fewer newspapers carry book reviews than in the past, and there are more outlets for reviews, but they reach smaller audiences. (Amazon customer reviews are a special case because they have a peculiar status as consumer feedback mixed in with reviews mixed in with sock puppetry and are usually encountered after a book has been discovered, not as a discovery tool.) Sisters in Crime has been monitoring the gender breakdown of authors reviewed in the media since the 1980s, a project I’m currently coordinating. We’re now covering born-digital reader-focused publications (a selection of book blogs and online-only review sources). The ones we are examining publish nearly as many reviews in aggregate as the four main pre-pub review sources (Booklist, Kirkus, Library Journal, and Publisher’s Weekly). The shift to online, amateur, and social reviewing of books has interesting potential which hasn’t yet found the kind of mass audience large chain stores did, but which could become a significant channel for tailored word of mouth.
I’m not sure what to conclude from these ramblings of mine, other than that I understand Dennis Johnson’s point, but am not so concerned about the future of discovery. For those lucky enough to live near good independent bookstores, local reading communities and the stores that provide a home for them fill the gap. Public libraries are available to a large percentage of Americans, and a large percentage of Americans use them, providing another valuable site for developing a democracy of reading tastes. If B&N follows Borders, publishers will have a serious distribution problem to deal with, with Amazon left standing as the major mass sales outlet, but like our fabled fiscal cliff, it’s not really a cliff, it’s a slope, and we’re well down it already.
As for readers – we’ll find our communities, locally and online, and word of mouth will continue to be a healthy means of discovering a wide variety of books. We just have to find our way to the right conversations and settle in as active members of communities, both local and virtual, who can’t wait to share news about books you just have to read.
photos courtesy of ~dgies
Such interesting thoughts Barbara.
I know for me discovery has never been better than over the past 4-5 years when I found online communities that shared my interests because, like you, in my ‘real world’ communities there simply aren’t enough people who like the same kind of reading. I live in a small city that has never had a specialist book store for my favourite genre and in which there aren’t (and have never been) indie book stores in double figures (right now we have 3 I can think of – one of which sells nothing but literary fiction and classics) – so there have been 3 or 4 chain stores all selling big name authors from the US and UK for as long as I can remember – so boring that a few years ago I was down to reading less than 20 books a year as I just couldn’t be bothered.with the same old crap being pushed down my throat but I didn’t know where to go for more interesting books. Like you I have found some communities online populated by people who share my interests and, having invested some time in those communities, I now have a steady stream of recommendations and ideas about where to go looking for new books
I don’t know how book stores could incorporate this kind of curatorship into the bricks and mortar world but I suspect the ones that do will survive – perhaps they will manage to leverage their facebook or pinterest pages for something more than counting “likes” or followers or they might try having ambassadors/champions of different genres from among their customers who could connect with other readers – it’s something that some libraries here do and I’ve wondered why book stores don’t. They probably get bamboozled by some savvy consultant selling them a social media strategy that actually does very little for their business. But I digress.
It will be interesting to see where this all goes.
For it to work for me, I would either have to become a more omnivorous reader or it would have to be a mystery-focused bookstore. Guess which is more likely?
Even so, being an introvert who generally hates shopping, it’s easier for me to find ideas online among like-minded readers, then seek out the books that sound interesting by title, most often through the library system but sometimes from my favorite specialty bookstore via the post..
As an aside, academic libraries are beginning to realize they have a somewhat similar problem. Our busy websites and expensive databases are not where academics discover which books and articles they want to read (or skim, or whatever you do with academic prose); they find out among their tribes (which are disciplinary and far-flung, not local) what to read and then see if the library can provide it. (If we stop and think about it, this has always been mostly the case, with footnotes driving discovery.) The trouble is we can’t have everything people want that they’ve discovered elsewhere, and they get disappointed with us, so we pay lots of money to buy access to one article at a time. Which is not how you create a community.
Sorry for the digression – it’s one of the things that’s been on my mind which suddenly seemed parallel.
If not for online bloggers, reviewers, readers, I’d still be stuck in the rut of reading the same authors. A world (literally) of books and writers has been opened up to me by the wonders of the Internet and crime fiction readers’ blogs — such as Bernadette’s.
I am so grateful for these blogs, and can spend hours reading reviews and comments — while adding lots of book ideas to my mountaineous TBR list — and piles. And I am so glad to have found so many books by Australian women writers. The only problems are accessibility and reasonable prices.
I must say that I already miss Maxine Clarke’s contributions. I have read so many books she recommended — and enjoyed them. However, I’ll consult her blog for ideas.
Partners and Crime, the mystery bookstore near my neighborhood closed due to escalating costs, but also because of the recession, loyal book buyers were no longer purchasing books.
So I buy books online, use the library (limited though it is, unfortunately) and share books with friends, borrowing, loaning.
I miss Maxine every day – which seems silly considering that I never met her (and didn’t even know she was sick) and a bit self-indulgent considering what her family, co-workers, and close friends have lost in comparison. But she was a perfect example of what community means for book discovery and why it’s so very different than marketing or shiny tech algorithms. (Which, given her work at Nature, is something Maxine would know more about than practically anyone!)
I’m beginning to plan my next sabbatical around this very question, so I may be asking my reading twins and fellow mystery addicts a lot of questions in the next couple of years. I think looking at how crime fiction communities form online around shared interests and passions and how they make up for what are really local shortages – (of books, of information about books), how these self-regulating, non-commercial communities offer something commercial channels cannot – can tell us a lot about books and readers and also about the formation and nurturing of community and how it’s different than the “how many friends can I collect, how may retweets can I gather” social media mentality. It’s just a vague idea at this point, but I hope I can do something with it.
I hope you can do this as you outline above. It will be quite interesting to other crime fiction readers.
It is such a treat every day to read intelligently written book reviews and related matters regarding crime fiction.
Sometimes it’s sacrificing time from doing the actual reading of books, but it’s so worth it. One learns and appreciates the comments and analysis of others.
I read Mystery Friend Feed, which Maxine Clarke set up, and I appreciate it so much. I haven’t even signed on to comment as I simply want to read other readers’ comments. It is so enjoyable.
Book discovery for readers would be so much easier if R.R. Bowker allowed the public to search their database of upcoming releases.
I know I can go to a library and access the database (if the library pays for access — my public library no longer does), but it would be much more customer-friendly if I could do so from home. If publishers were serious about making it easier for readers to find new books, they would force Bowker to open this resource to the public. And Bowker should restore the search agent email function they used to have but no longer do.
The same goes for Amazon — at one time many years ago, Amazon allowed readers to save their search criteria, and when a new title was listed that matched the reader’s criteria, Amazon would dispatch an email to the reader. They no longer offer that service and for the life of me, I cannot understand why. I mean, aren’t they in the business of selling books?
Why make it harder for readers to find the books they want to buy and read?