Rocket Bomber

Amazon is a soul sucking leech on the book business.

Matt Blind — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 17:35:42 GMT

[I know it’s an inflammatory title. I mean it.]

Let’s say that in one last-ditch attempt to control costs, I unplugged the phone, bulldozed the information desk, fired all my employees except for the cashiers, and no longer hired or trained any booksellers to answer questions or help you find books. Instead, I make sure all the bookcases are well-marked, hire a couple of people part time (to work nights) to shelve the books that come in, and otherwise just sort of let the place go.

Magazines that customers take off the rack and leave on tables and in chairs would just stack up over 14 hours, until the night crew can get them. Books that customers browse and leave would also collect in situ. I can put up a sign for you, though, “Please return merchandise to the proper shelf. Thank you. If you cannot remember where you found a book, please leave it on this recovery table.”

People are smart and considerate. I predict no problems, and relatively little need for the table (an afterthought) — a small end table below the sign should suffice.

Customers with questions would be directed to the single kiosk where they can try and search for themselves, and pointedly told that employees are not allowed to leave the register to help.

Would you shop here?

Why not? The books are all still there — unless another customer moved them, and how is that the retailers fault, that people can’t clean up after themselves? Even patrons of McDonald’s can bus their own table, right? Every bookcase would still have a label, new books would still be stocked. In fact, all I’m changing is the staff levels: at the base it’s still the same store, right?

My point is that the booksellers who work constantly to maintain the bookstore and equally hard to answer your questions are the reason we all shop at bookstores — the books themselves are available from just about anywhere these days, including Wal-Mart and the supermarket.

Books can be sold anywhere, that’s not what the bookstore does. We provide a specialty service. We’re the only retailer set up to answer questions, and being good sports, we’ll accept just about any question folks care to bring in — and see if there’s a book for it. Bookselling is, in fact, a service industry (lightly masked as retail) and though we support ourselves through the sale of books, it is not all that we do, or always what we do.

Still, the unstaffed bookstore I described above would also have a certain appeal to the customer base, so long as we still sold coffee & provided free wifi. A glorified reading room — or a library but without the pesky librarian to shush you when you talk too loud with friends (or on your cellphone). If you can manage the haphazard organization, you might even prefer it — so long as you didn’t need a particular issue of any one specialized magazine (how do you people find out about the feature article in Vogue Hellas anyway?) (yes, we stock it).

Still, even if you just hang out with us all day eventually you will want or need a book, and then you’ll suddenly be looking for a bookseller.

We have long since moved past the days when buying a particular book meant scrounging and searching dusty bookshops, or finding a accomodating bookseller with a copy of Bowker’s Books In Print (at the time an impressively large bound volume, like a huge phone book) and then waiting four to six weeks for the order to arrive.

There have always been other options: The Book of the Month Club and it’s competitors and genre-specific spinoffs were valid (and popular) options even into the late 80s — and indeed, the Book of the Month Club is still an ongoing operation, though smaller now in the internet age.

If one were interested in gardening, or astronomy, or model trains, the same catalog from which you ordered the tools of your hobby also offered books on the topic.

Prior to the shopping mall and the big box bookstore: your downtown department store had a book department (often on the first floor) [See sources: 1920, 1949] — while we almost always think of book shops as separate and an institution onto themselves, independent booksellers have, for a century and a half [and more: since the 1830s, starting in England and New York] been forced to operate alongside larger ‘corporate’ competition.

In doing research, I found complaints from booksellers lamenting the use of books as a loss leader to pull shoppers into department stores, from 1900: “Every Philadelphian who reads that offer might well get the idea that Lippincott’s and the booksellers are humbugs and frauds to want to charge $1.50 for a book which the philanthopic Mr. Wanamaker will give him for $1.10. It may be business but it is demoralizing. The discount question is one of the first that should be grappled with by the new American Publishers’ Association. If the publishers must sell to department stores, than let the books be published at net prices with closer discounts so that the department stores shall not get too much credit for cheap selling.” [Google Book Search is an amazing thing — and some problems are as old as retail.]

While competition from down the street is not only unavoidable, but considered kind-of-the-point of capitalist economies, the new competition presented to booksellers is both old & new, and pernicious.

Amazon is not a bookstore, though they have always presented themselves a such, even going so far as to bake the words into the early .gif and .jpg logos. Despite their own propaganda, there is no store: Amazon is a mail-order catalog.

Before you say, “No, Amazon sells books; so they’re a bookseller, right? Obvious, really…” I’ll point out that Amazon does not maintain a shop or storefront and sends books to you via the post or parcel services. So: catalog, QED.

The internet is a fabulous invention and has simplified many, many aspects of the old mail-order catalog business — there is no need to check off boxes on an order form or laboriously write out, line by line, item numbers, prices, tax, shipping & handling, and then mail the physical object (with an envelope and stamps, actually licking them… how barbaric) to some far away city and waiting, patiently, for the goods to arrive. Even the improvements provided by toll free 1-800 numbers and telephone orders are eclipsed by the convenience of web sites. But the basic process—placing orders fulfilled by a remote distribution center—is the classic mail-order business model.

Amazon is a book catalog, sure, but don’t give them undeserved credit. In positioning itself as a “Bookstore” Amazon has set up a false equivalence in the minds of customers and presents your average bookseller with a series of competitions that we cannot win:

“Oh, you don’t have it? But it’s in stock at Amazon.” [1]
“Why can’t I return this? Returns are easier at Amazon.” [2]
“Why is this book $28? There’s a copy for only $1.49 on Amazon.” [3]
“Why will it take 4 days to get here? I mean, I can get it in just 2 days from Amazon.” [4]
“Amazon customer service is just so much better. I’m never shopping here again.” [5]

[1] “In Stock” at Amazon is the same as an item being in stock at a warehouse, or book wholesaler, or even at a publisher. Yes, the book exists. That doesn’t mean you can have a copy today. Once again, customer perceptions are against me as a bookseller: The customer equates the click of a ‘buy’ button with the actual sale (“Oh, I just bought that on the web”) but the goods take time to deliver. Even a pizza takes 30 minutes.

[2] As part of its customer service, Amazon does make returns ‘easy’ – but not unlimited, and only for items sold & fulfilled by Amazon itself, not (always) for 3rd party sellers in the marketplace, and not (always) refunding shipping, either to the customer or back to Amazon. Yes, I’ve read anecdotes of amazing customer service — full refunds, prompt replacements, even shipping a new item before getting the old one back — but these seem to be true exceptions and not the rule.

Also, no one shows up to Amazon’s doorstep (corporate HQ, I guess, since they don’t have stores) with a book, asking for a refund. No receipt, no proof that it was even bought at Amazon, “it was a gift”, but with every expectation that they not only provide a gift card or credit for the full retail price of the book, but that Amazon do so with a smile and a thank you. And yet I get this kind of request daily at the bookstore.

[3] One reason Amazon can sell books for less than retail is they do not need to employ a staff member to give their customers basic lessons in economics, clarification that used goods are not equivalent to new, a concise description of how Amazon’s Marketplace works, or polite explanations that after ‘shipping & handling’ is tacked on by the seller they’re going to end up paying $8 and waiting a week for a 10 year old book.

And that’s fine, a deal in fact. And used books are great, I love them. Just don’t throw that buck-fifty in my face when we’re talking about a brand new hardcover that’s only been out of the box for 2 days.

[4] …If you are an Amazon Prime member (paying $79 for the priviledge) I’d like to thank you for remembering us at the bookstore, for making the trip to come in, for shopping with us, and even for taking additional time to engage a bookseller — up to and including asking if we can order a book for you and how long it might take to arrive. But why ask me to defend why I, as a bookseller (making minimum wage for all you know) with no control over either warehouse procedures or the shipping companies we employ, can’t match a premium service you pay an annual fee for. It seems a bit much. Are you trolling the bookstore?

[5] Amazon’s much vaunted “customer service” consists of having a web site, shipping the correct item in a more or less timely manner, and handling the 1-in-1000 or so orders where there is some sort of issue — damaged in shipping, lost, wrong item, or ‘customer error’ of various sorts up to and including folks who just decide they don’t want it — which they do via email and their web site. It’s almost impossible to actually call Amazon, as they don’t publish their 1-800 number anywhere on the site (Google searches pull up 1.866.216.1072).

Oddly, it’s the same thing I do every day – in person. And yet, I get no credit.

I’ll get to my point: Amazon is not only *not* a bookstore, they are a parasite on bookselling.

Amazon is soaking up all the easy sales: those where the customer already knows what they want and can clearly communicate that [to a computer in this case]. These are books that we have in store, often on front-of-store displays, including the bestseller lists and major new releases. In the event of unprecedented demand, due to breaking events or sudden popularity [50 Shades of Grey], Amazon will even sell you the book before they have it in stock. Under the guise of ‘preorders’ they get to sell at no risk, even before they themselves have to pay for the stock.

Amazon can manipulate this part of their business quite well; they delay payments to suppliers until weeks after they themselves have already banked the sale.

What about the hard sales? The customer searches? Yes, like any other search engine, a customer can use Amazon to find books — if the customer is willing to work at it. There isn’t anyone on hand to correct their spelling, or to point out that Instanbul, Constantinople, and Byzantium are all different names for the same city.

And as I point out above, no one picks up the phone to call Amazon. Have no doubt that people call the book store with the web browser window open and ask us questions until they can complete their Amazon order. If you’d care to find out just how many people call a bookstore, I’d like to invite you to my workplace for an afternoon. [We’re listed first in the phonebook, even ahead of all the other stores in our chain, in a metropolitan area with 4.5 million people — so yeah.]

Amazon doesn’t recommend books either, not like a bookseller can (and does). “People who bought this also bought” is a fine thought (and easy to code) but is it any surprise that folks who read Patterson have bought 5 of his other books? And the much vaunted [patented, even] customer reviews?

Randall Monroe has the most concise response to that:

After the holidays, every January I’m presented with dozens of gift returns — no few of which came from Amazon, no doubt — but I won’t belabor the point by mentioning it more than ~~once~~ twice.

In-store author events, browsing bookshelves, independent discovery, front of store displays as publisher marketing tools — all things the bookstore provides that you don’t get from Amazon, all of which promote reading and books (and book collecting, occasionally) as pursuits, and which also enrich your community. Amazon is slowly siphoning off sales that result from the efforts we make in-store, while giving nothing back to your community. They don’t even pay what should be their fair share of local taxes.

Amazon is a catalog, not a bookstore. Booksellers provide services to you that few appreciate, at least to the point of financially supporting us. Amazon also makes use of our services, in that we’re helping their customers, too; it’s our job to sell books even if we can’t bank the sale.

Imagine the bookstore with no sales staff, just cashiers. That’s the future we’re already heading towards as more bookstores are forced to hire fewer booksellers — or even to let a few go.

Imagine your hometown or neighborhood without a bookstore. Some of you don’t have to imagine, as one major chain has already closed.

There are solutions. One can even compete with Amazon. But the new bookstore will likely look a bit different than anyone is used to.

[I’ll write up my thoughts on a ‘new model’ bookstore in the next post]

Price Tags. Opportunity Cost.

Matt Blind — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 17:30:48 GMT

The value of Amazon, like the value of Facebook, exists not in the website but in the user base. Would any 3rd-party sellers use Amazon’s Marketplace otherwise?

Amazon doesn’t market your items. It doesn’t help you invest in inventory, or develop new product lines — in most cases, it doesn’t warehouse the items for you, or help in fulfillment or shipping.

Amazon only makes your item available via a search, and for that privilege, takes up to 30% (or more?) of the sale. And the only value added is that it’s listed on Amazon, where the people are.

Amazon gained an advantage by getting *big* first. No one can catch up without massive investment and years of losses.

Please consider: it’s not so much that you use Amazon: Amazon is using you – and, on your behalf, is doing things you might not agree with

see also: Views inside & outside the Amazon-IPG dispute http://www.shelf-awareness.com/issue.html?issue=1675#m15160

Nook speculation at this early stage is dangerous, and likely useless

Matt Blind — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 17:53:02 GMT

Full Disclosure: Barnes & Noble signs my paychecks, and I own trivial amounts of BKS through a company sponsored 401(k). But I am field management, in stores, and so not privy to corporate secrets past what both you and I can both read in press releases.

So, B&N: in Thursday’s press release they said

“In order to capitalize on the rapid growth of the NOOK digital business, and its favorable leadership position in the expanding market for digital content, the Company has decided to pursue strategic exploratory work to separate the NOOK business.”

and two ‘graphs later

“There can be no assurance that the review of a potential separation of the NOOK digital business will result in a separation. There is no timetable for the review, and the Company does not intend to comment further regarding the review, unless and until a decision is made.”

of course others have commented; a small sample:

http://news.cnet.com/8301-1023_3-57354321-93/barnes-noble-ceo-were-committed-to-the-nook/
http://dealbook.nytimes.com/2012/01/06/with-nook-plan-barnes-noble-sets-out-possible-shake-up/
http://seekingalpha.com/article/317961-why-barnes-noble-needs-to-keep-the-nook?source=yahoo

I think the main thing that prompted the announcement was 1st: full legal disclosure. They are legitimately looking into this, & I’m sure there is an SEC rule that requires them to say so.

But, a decision to “separate” the Nook business could include operating the digital division as a wholly owned subsidiary, spinning off the business [issuing stock in a new Nook company to all current B&N shareholders], selling it outright, or something less revolutionary, like doing some basic math/accounting to list nook as a separate line item in B&N annual reports.

Or nothing. Nothing is an option.

I think the main thing that B&N wanted to accomplish with this announcement was proper consideration. Some props for what they’ve done in 2 short years – A wholescale reevaluation by both pundits and investors in the business. It could be a thinly veiled message direct to Liberty Media, asking them to invest another half billion to buy the whole company outright (or to buy the nook business, unbundled)

At any rate, much like the announcement made that B&N was considering “strategic alternatives” up to and including a sale, which made the news last year.

If you were to ask my opinion, I must demure: that would be too much like investment advice. But I’m not quitting my job as a bookstore manager, or cashing out my 401(k).

A life filled with Books

Matt Blind — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 02:48:50 GMT

For centuries before the steam-powered printing press, books were rare: to be scrounged for in small shops, bought used more often than not, each a treasure, and each treasured.

I don’t think most people [the ones who only buy one book a year] understand the bibliophile’s need for books, or the comfort of a personal library full of them.

Digital is fine. Ebooks can be exceptionally convenient. The ebook may eventually supplant certain types of cheap paperback; in fact is already doing so. I also hope the ease of ‘production’, ‘printing’, and distribution ushers in a new Age of Pulp.

(scifi is chugging along fine, but certain types of adventure & mystery stories could use a shot in the arm.)

However: there’s nothing like a book, a physical book in hand with some serious heft, to soothe one’s soul and decorate one’s house. And you can read them! Amazing things.

This is something basic I and many others understand. We were already buying books (much more than one a year) and after the general public’s fling with digital books: we’ll still be buying them. You can predict the death of the bookstore chains, and of the big publishers, and that’s fine. It may even be true. But even when the damn things were made by hand – there was an unquenchable demand for actual books that centuries of writing, printing, and constant reproduction of older titles did nothing to slake.

Books will be scrounged for in small shops, bought used more often than not: each a treasure, and each treasured.

An Elegy Sung by a Mourner Riding the Bookstore Viking Ship, Already Set Ablaze

Matt Blind — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 17:40:59 GMT

I’ll save you ten minutes: In this post I vigorously defend the customer service commitment of corporate booksellers, mostly by pointing out just how hard of a job it is.

I might also have a few [mildly] insulting things to say about my customers, which is what readers will key in on, and will raise their umbrage to the point they’ll pack the comments to this post with scathing missives about how I shouldn’t be allowed to breathe, let alone be put into situations where I’m allowed to interact with other people.

Look deep into the mirror, and see if you actually are one of my “customers”. If you are, feel shame; if not, then please laugh and cry with me, for I have a thankless job and have abuse piled on to me besides.

The occasion of this post is three unrelated complaints that seem to all have dropped into my lap at the same time, this past Monday:

http://www.kindleboards.com/index.php?topic=96922.0

And these quips, which I saw via @nprbooks on twitter

These complaints, and the responses to them, and other similar barbs casually tossed at booksellers, (and a case of beer) all had me worked up into a fine fit. I had to respond, because someone on the internet was *wrong* [op. cit. http://xkcd.com/386/]

(I took a few days to cool off, but I’m still going forward with the [drunken] rant.)

I’m going to argue this five different ways. In fact, I have to argue it five different ways; you, the reading public, are conflating:

The big box bookstore vs Amazon

The big box vs Independents

The big box vs the Internet

The big box vs its own employees …and

The big box vs readers

The big box bookstore vs. Amazon.

So, let’s take that lovely KINDLE BOARD post and parse it:

First: it was posted to a kindle user board.

I know that when I have a customer complaint the first thing *I* do is immediately post on a fan-forum for users of a competitor’s device.

Setting that to one side, though:

- Amazon has no store fronts, so there is no way to visit one on Dec. 24th.
– Amazon does not offer opportunities for non-profits to earn donations through volunteer gift-wrapping in stores.
– Amazon would also not make change for a $5 bill. Indeed, Amazon doesn’t deal with cash at all.

I personally love how the second sentence in the post is, “I paid full cover price,” like this is equivalent to purchasing a First Class airline ticket, or somehow is pertinent to the rest of the events that follow.

Thank you for visiting a bookstore, Geemont, and thank you for buying books. (It’s what we do.) I’m sorry that the ‘full cover price’ is something so outside your regular experience that you felt it was worthy of note. Alas, the only way bookstores can stay open — indeed, to be open on the holiday of Christmas Eve — is to charge the actual price of a book, the one physically printed on the book itself.

Other than noting that your visit was precipitated by the need for a “last moment extra gift”, Geemont, you don’t make mention of the time. Was this in the last ten minutes before we closed the store, or during the mid-afternoon rush with a dozen customers behind you at the counter, or first thing in the morning when the store wasn’t really busy (yet)? December 24th was the second-busiest day of the year for my store, I can only assume it was the same for other bookstores: your incidental request for change while cashiers were busy attempting to ring up other customers during our highest volume of the year can seem trivial to you, but might in fact require a manager to step in.

Past complaining to the “district manager” on your way out [and how did you identify her as such? and why-slash-How did you skip over two layers of management before making the complaint?] — did you allow the bookseller to use established procedures to help you? Or were you just in too much of a hurry to wait an extra minute?

quote from the source:
“But here is the rub: Barnes & Noble is fighting for its life and one of its big advantages is their store fronts. Yet a petty (accounting?) policy of not making change made shopping there an unpleasant experience. In the long run, it isn’t the extra two bucks to charity, but the narrowed minded adherence to bureaucratic polices that ticked me off. What if I only had a twenty? Should I have just stiffed the wrappers? If Barnes & Noble wants remain in the book business they should do whatever to make their retail shops a place where customers want to buy books, especially at full cover price.”

I’ll note again:

- Amazon does not offer opportunities for non-profits to earn donations through volunteer gift-wrapping in stores.
– not least of which because: Amazon has no storefronts. Or booksellers. (would this be an example of Amazon’s ‘narrow-minded adherence to bureaucratic policies’?)
– and Amazon doesn’t make change for $5 either.

I personally would like to invite Geemont to escalate this as far as he can with Barnes & Noble: Rattle the rafters, make the chairman himself respond.

And then, sir, please do the same at Amazon, and demand that they open a nationwide chain of storefronts open at all hours and also up to the very last minute on holidays, so you can rely on them for last minute gifts and never have to shop at Barnes & Noble or other big-box booksellers ever again.

Especially at full cover price.

The big box bookstore vs Independents

“My local bakery is so much better than the bread I can buy at the supermarket”

And duh. Local & artisan is better than corporate & national: Which is why Sears and Wal-Mart both went out of business in the 70s when faced with competition on every geographical front by small, engaged local retailers.

Customers say a lot about their expectations and preferences, but they vote with their dollars.

…

As ‘the enemy’ (a big box bookseller) I get some heat from customers, and some perhaps-deserved insults from Righteous-Independent-Booksellers. Big-Box-Books doesn’t react, doesn’t respond, just isn’t as good as a good local.

Duh. Yes.

But I have to serve the larger community, not just you.

Someone is looking for the works of Spinoza or Gracian – these might not even be in a local branch library, but we have a copy for sale at big-box-books. Someone has to have reference guides on Ford V-8s, Benz Deisels, and Dodge Hemis – and your local library may have ‘em but mine doesn’t, and folks call the store daily. Someone has to stock books on history, ethnography, sociology, architecture, psychology, and how each and any of these might impact urban planning or business retail – and yet, not only is there nowhere else to find the books, no one else is willing to do the searches to find the books.

Your local indy is better at recommending fiction: they not only stock the Booker & Pulitzer Prize winners, they often anticipate them. Your Local is better – for what they do.

But I have know & be able to recommend it all, and then some. You tell me where your local excels, & I’ll come back with the basic knowledge I’ve had to acquire in five other categories that your local doesn’t even stock. There is a big difference between 40,000 books and 100,000 – and I’m being very generous in assuming your local indy stocks that many. Also, as a chain, the first follow-up question from any customer is, “Well, does one of your other locations have it?” — so in addition to my own inventory, I have to deal with what may-or-may-not be in stock at a dozen other locations – many duplicate titles but easily over 1 million books total.

One can maintain that local indie booksellers are better at customer service – & they might be – but smaller indies also enjoy a much lower volume of business & requests.

If I only had to entertain 100 customer inquires in store and 200 or so phone calls per day, I’d seem like an effing customer-service wizard, too. As it is, I’m busy, and frazzled, and there are two more people behind you in line.

The big box bookstore vs the Internets

Since you’re reading this on my blog, I can only assume you are at least passably acquainted with the internet. As such, my next point may in fact be lost on you.

No one looks up anything on the internet.

Oh sure, you do. YOU already know how the internet works. Does your mom know? Does your boss? Let’s say your parents are Nobel Laureates and you work for an internet search company — are you saying everyone you know is computer literate? How many of your friends pick up the phone to ask you a computer or tech question, because hey, you’re knowledgeable and you’re a friend and a phone call is easy, right? The answer is on Google, of course, a few clicks away: but that just isn’t the same as asking a friend.

At the bookstore, apparently, I’m everyone’s friend. No One Looks Up Anything on the Internet. If they did, my phone wouldn’t be ringing off the hook all day long. The calls start hours before we open and no doubt continue even after I go home at midnight. It’s not just stuff that a Google search would easily provide, or wikipedia, or say, an author’s or publisher’s website would have; sometimes it’s not even for a book —

My favorite was the call from a mother in New Jersey, who wanted me to recommend a local bakery so she could send her son a cake. In looking up a number to call in Atlanta, it never occurred to her to look up the number for a bakery – she called the bookstore so I could recommend a place. And then I got to use the yellow pages [the actual book] to look up bakeries and give this “customer”[sic] the information over the phone. There is another customer who, having established in her own mind that I was “the answer guy”, would call the bookstore, ask for me personally, and then proceed with whatever query happened to occur to her. Like, how to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Or how to get out of a speeding ticket. Or the song title and artist based on a half-remembered lyric.

Folks walk into the store with truly excellent questions, too. One man wanted a book on ostrich farming. Amazingly, I happened to stock a book on ostrich farming (I was shocked too). I handed the rather slim volume to this customer, who turned it over, read the back, half-heartedly flipped through it, then asked, “But do you have any books on organic ostrich farming?”

More recently a customer asked me for a how-to guide on writing e-books. So I begin recommending several books on fiction writing, and a few on how to write book proposals for non-fiction titles, and a couple on writing memoirs—since I’m not sure what kind of book—and this guy says, “Well, these are OK I guess, but they’re all about writing books: I want a book on how to write e-books, you know?” I changed tracks, and started to recommend books on self-publishing, and mentioned a few websites I know that help authors get ebooks online and onto sales sites, and he says, “No, I don’t think you understand, I know how to get the ebooks online, I need a book on how to write an ebook, see?”

Sadly, I don’t; more disheartening is that this man could even formulate that thought.

As an internet-savvy, well-read bibliophile with at least average computer skills, it would never occur to you to call someone for answers. There is a gap, though: part educational, part generational — and a whole lot of folks not being able (or not wanting) to bother. I invite you to work for a bookstore, part-time, just for a couple of weeks, so you’ll know that even when the whole of human knowledge is made available to anyone on the internet, with very minimal effort required, there are still going to be folks who can’t be bothered to make that minimal effort — so long as there is someone they can annoy.

And many of these “customers” get pissy when I can’t seem to find a book that has “The Answer” in it. Or, when such a book improbably exists, they are shocked, *shocked*, that it isn’t in stock, for sale today. Because, after I’ve spent 10 minutes asking questions, guiding the search, resorting to all the resources at my disposal to find a book, “Well if you don’t have it I’ll just order it from Amazon.”

So sad, that customers can not use Google or Wikipedia on their own, but everyone knows how to use Amazon.

The big box bookstore vs it’s own employees

Man, I can’t believe I have to defend this crap online — it’s not like I enjoy working for a large corporate beast, But: I need to eat, and the employee discount on books is really much too fine to walk away from.

Let’s assume that a “neighborhood bookstore” exists as a platonic ideal separate from the business and social models that enable it. The bookstore would then be there no matter who runs it.

While this is certainly nice to assume, there is no imperative that insists a bookstore has to exist. Outside of corporate influence and engagement, bookstores are rare and endangered things. Even those of us who love books & bookstores, and who give up other employent opportunities to work at bookstores, and give our all while on the job – no matter how much we sacrifice we cannot maintain the status quo or guarantee bookstores will stay open — as has recently been proven by the Borders bankruptcy.

Corporate bookstores often cut costs by hiring part-time staff. Some of these ‘booksellers’ work for less than 3 months. You can certainly complain about the ‘booksellers’ you have to deal with over the holidays (if that is the only time of year you engage us) as we’re just hiring kids to make do. Even our “permanent” staff consists of folks who, on average, have been with the company less than 3 years. Some are college students, working nights & over the breaks — they were accepted to college so presumably aren’t stupid (…you can argue the point, but this isn’t the essay for that). I have retirees on payroll, and teachers; former librarians and folks who have worked for publishers; staff with graduate degrees, staff currently working on their doctoral theses; writers and artists and creatives of all stripes.

For many, the bookstore is just a stepping stone and a paycheck, an experience that will one day be a source of funny anecdotes for cocktail parties, college lectures, or corporate presentations. Corporate does not pay enough to retain talent. You could argue that Corporate doesn’t pay them enough to care.

Minimum wage does not buy one a whole lot of “buy in”.

It is a rare beast indeed that loves books, loves knowledge and trivia, is willing to work for less money than her skills might otherwise demand, is good with customers, is totally conversant with the rapid changes in the industry, and who can put up with corporate bullshit for more than a couple of years.

Instead, you get me. I’m undiagnosed Asperger’s/autism-spectrum and not only am I bad with people, I drink too much and respond to what-some-call-reasonable-objections to bookstore customer service with drunken invective and wounded pride. I take this personally. I have a passion for the job.

And the next time you need change for a five, you better hope I’m the bitter, pissed-off, overworked bookseller on a register because I am the manager and I am empowered by bullshit-corporate to make the life-or-death-decision to reopen the cash till, and I’ll get you your pesky change, without comment and likely without even making eye contact.

The big box bookstore vs. Our Readers

I’m not sure where this perception of hostility comes from. We have opened hundreds of stores all across the country [with outposts in each of the 50 states] and we stock 100,000 titles minimum at each, with magazines, CDs, DVDs, greeting cards, stationary, calendars, journals, and stuffed animals. WE WANT YOUR MONEY. We’ve made the stores as inviting as possible, and don’t even require you to buy anything, a loophole many many people take advantage of daily. We’re somehow a replacement for the library [an assumption that does a disservice to your local libraries] as well as a community center and learning annex.

We Try So Very Hard. …and often succeed — and still get push back from our customers, most often on price. If YOU, OUR CUSTOMERS want to push us out of the business, we’re going to go out of business — but all that “free” that you enjoy does not pay for itself.

“…there is no imperative that insists a bookstore has to exist. Outside of corporate influence and engagement, bookstores are rare and endangered things.”

Treasure what you have. If all you have is a corporate chain outpost – it is your choice whether that bookstore is your “local” or just another soon-to-be-empty storefront. And maybe you could buy something from us once a year – or twice a year, if your ‘once’ is only Dec. 24th

Summing up:

At the bookstore, our customers’ expectations are set too high; it would be like having a master chef or food scientist on staff at the grocery store, or top designers and fashion magazine columnists at Wal-Mart, or geologists and civil engineers to sell you fill dirt and gravel. Books are a commodity good (as is perhaps best proven by the price sensitivity of customers) but books are the only commodity that requires expertise & a high level of personal knowledge to sell — and sadly, there are only so many Jeopardy champions to go around.

There are at least six million books out there, in stock at somebody’s warehouse and available to sell. That is out of perhaps nine to twelve million books total (considering books that are out of print but still available used) and maybe as many as 15 million different books, if we consider new e-books and available scans of older books — and that is just the commoditized bookspace and doesn’t include library collections or all the books ever printed, in all their varied formats. My world gets more complex by the day — and yet I have to navigate these uncharted waters every day, in a way that is both prompt and seemless to the customer.

…and on top of that I have to do it in a way that doesn’t make the customer look or feel stupid — especially when the customer is acting (or is actually) stupid.

That’s my 2 cents. I’ll have to owe you the other $4.98.