Are Bookstores Just a Waste of Space?
Are Bookstores Just a Waste of Space?
In the online era, brick-and-mortar book retailers have been forced to redefine themselves.
I think it's very important that we still have brick and mortar stores. Especially the smaller and more independent ones. It's not a good world to live in when our goods distribution is handled by one or two insanely large megacorps. And online access can be revoked at the whim of the parent company. It's super convenient when Amazon has anything I want to buy (or a knock off :/ ) and I can click a button and in a few days it arrives, but it really feels bad to using that. I know amazon employees are treated like dirt. I know it's terrible for the environment for me to having items individually shipped to my house. And I don't get to go out and laugh or joke with the employees of the shops. And it does nothing for the economy of the place I live.
I really don't think Bookstores are a waste of space.
For the past few years I lived out in the suburbs where buying anything meant either driving around and doing a whole thing or ordering something online and getting it a day or two later. I ordered everything.
Now I'm back to living downtown in a small city, and I've literally used Amazon only once in the past three months, to buy something that isn't available locally. It's much nicer.
I burn a lot of gas checking local stores before I'll break-down and buy what I need from Amazon.
My wife jokes that its a delaying tactic and I waste the energy I would otherwise use getting stuff done, and she's not entirely wrong, but still, if I find the thing and run out of steam, getting to continue the task tomorrow is still quicker than Amazon shipping, particularly for niche items.
According to Kristen McLean, an industry analyst, two-thirds of the books released by the top-ten trade publishers sell fewer than a thousand copies, and less than four per cent sell more than twenty thousand. Still, it’s generally agreed that book sales rose after 2019 and that, since the end of the pandemic, there has been a small but significant uptick in the number of independent bookstores. Explaining the first bump seems simple enough. Reading turned out to be a popular way of passing the time in lockdown, more respectable than binge-watching or other diversions one might think of. A slight decline in sales over the past couple of years suggests that people felt freed up to go out and play pickleball instead of staying home and trying to finish “War and Peace.”
The chief rationale offered for brick-and-mortar bookstores today is that they are community-building spaces. That is how Friss describes the Three Lives bookstore—forgive me, shop—and it’s how almost all the store owners in “The Secret Lives” (and many of the librarians) explain what they do and why it gives them satisfaction. They are practitioners of bibliotherapy. They introduce people to books that will help them overcome grief or minister to confusions about life choices or personal identity.
And the stores are fashioned to be neighborhood gathering places, like park playgrounds. They welcome everyone—toddlers, oddballs, and professors. They schedule author appearances and other events, often hundreds of them a year. Regulars drop in to chat about books. With any luck, there is a café. Nowadays, this is as true of Barnes & Noble chain stores as it is of Three Lives. That is what it means to run a bookstore. The rewards are not just material. The bookstore survives by redefining itself.
There is a nice bookstore in Fort Langley, BC. It's front of house is a coffee and cooked Breakfast/Lunch menu, and the back side of building is bookstore. Offers a nice browse while waiting for breakfast, and a good way for bookstore sales to be leveled out with food sales.