By Jason Boog

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Word on the Water, Regent’s Canal, London

“So close your eyes while mother sings of the wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see those beautiful things as you sail on the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three – Winkin’, Blinkin’, and Nod.“

- From Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod, a Nursery Rhyme.

I’ve been in a lot of bookshops and sung their praises, but this one takes the cake. To be fair to them all, those very worthy other bookshops are often just as good as this one in terms of selection, decor and price, but all of them are lacking one essential ingredient that makes this competition not even close to a fair fight.  While every other bookshop I’ve been in has been firmly planted on solid ground, today I set foot inside a floating bookshop on the inside of a London Canal Boat.  You just can’t beat that.

I heard about this mystical creature some time ago and have been trying to track it down for ages.  It moves along Regent’s Canal which cuts through North London from Harrow in the West all the way to the Thames River Basin at Limehouse in the East.  On their facebook and twitter pages, Word on the Water post where on the canal they’re going to be and for how long.  Once or twice I’ve gone to City Road Basin in Angel to try to find them, but always seem to miss the canal boat.  However this time, I just happened upon them by accident.  When I saw the “Floating Book Sale” sign I had a feeling I had accidentally stumbled upon this thing I’d been wanting to find for so long.  This week, the boat is stationed just west of Camden Market on the canal, and a two minute walk from The Blackgull, another amazing Camden bookshop which works brilliantly as the second half of a double feature.  If you’re in that area at all this weekend, you should visit both of them and support two amazing businesses for less than you’d expect.

You might find that you hear the boat before you see the grey plume of smoke rising out from its chimney, as music always seems to be playing from the deck.  If you catch them at the right time, you might be lucky enough to hear one of their live music shows or the poetry readings for which they’re famous.  I’ve never been to one but I hear that music and poetry are shouted out from the deck of the boat to listeners down below and I can only imagine that it must be magical.  But on a weekday at lunch hour, classical music from speakers is perfect.  After examining the paperbacks on sale for £1 or £3 on the deck of the boat (bargain!) and the small selection at the helm, I crouched down and crawled into the cabin, where the magic happens.  The shop’s inside is warmed by the heat of the wood-burning oven in the corner and the couches around it are inviting and cozy.  To live in the cabin of this boat would be a dream come true.  You might be able to grab a spot on the couch and sit for a bit with a book if the cats aren’t monopolising the space.  Yes, there are two little cats (although perhaps there are more, but I only saw two) who live onboard and on this chilly January day they were huddled up on the couch close to the fire.  They must be used to visitors because they didn’t seem to notice me rummaging around the shelves of books that cover the walls.  For such a small space, there is a decent selection of secondhand books, all for very reasonable prices.  I bought Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood for £3.  As with most of the bookshops I frequent, you’re in a real-live establishment, not on Amazon, so they don’t have everything, but I think that forces you to really look at what’s there and invites you to try a book you might not have thought of before.  If you’re not up for these more bookish of adventures, you’ll just have to settle for the charming ambiance and the original idea, which are reason enough to pay the barge a visit, if you can find it.

While I’m on the subject of adventures, despite the frustration of a few failed attempts, I’m very glad to have found this bookshop today by accident.  It goes to show that you can search and search as long as you like for exactly what you want, trying to plan every detail of each day of your life, but in the end, life surprises you.  The plans you made might fall through and one day you might just be glad they did, because the things you never even imagined would happen will come to be the most important moments of your life.  I harp on a lot on this blog about how bookshops are worth saving because they privilege the act of searching over instantaneous finding.  But I think this bookshop doesn’t need to preach that lesson at you because it’s the living proof of it.  You might not find exactly what you’re looking for in such a tiny little bookshop,  but the experience is worth so much more than what you come out with.  To walk along the canal like you do every day and then to come across a boat you’ve never seen which has been styled a “book barge” moored at the side sounds like the beginning of a pirate novel and reminds me of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in a way.  And I think we all need a little adventure in our lives.

For example.  I recently had to track down a copy of Home to India by Santha Rama Rau for a class I was taking.  There were no copies at Waterstone’s, Foyles, any of my usual local independents, my uni’s library or the University of London and the British Library’s copy was off-site.  I tried all of these places and finally found a copy at SOAS.  After weeks, I finally got my hands on a tiny, weathered red copy of the 1936 edition published by the Left Reading Club, an organisation which operated in the 30s and 40s, disseminating quality literature about leftist ideology among the British intelligentsia and which I had never even heard of before.  Everyone else in my class had ordered the reprinted version from Amazon instead of bothering to look for it.  So, sadly, none of them really got the sense that a text like this, by an Indian woman writing in the 30s about nationalist politics, was not exactly floating around freely.  The experience of tracking down that novel added something to my experience of reading it; its evident rarity really made its revolutionary aspect and its profound modernness (which of course becomes so relativised over time that it’s well-nigh invisible to recognise if you’re not looking for it) all the more real.

The point of that story, which somehow became a very long anecdote, is that oftentimes the adventures we have while looking for books add something special to our experience of them that wouldn’t be there otherwise.  And it’s the sense of discovery, adventure and the fanciful that Word on the Water is bringing back to the book-hunting experience.

On the barge with me today there was a little boy, probably about three years old, admiring a picture book about dinosaurs, which his parents were reading to him (bless them) even though they clearly needed to be on their way.  When they finally managed to get the book out of his hands, the little boy asked if he could drive the boat away.  His parents and another adult in the shop smiled and laughed, in that dismissive way adults do when they’re conspiring to ruin a child’s fun.  I found myself laughing too, but in my heart I thought this little boy is on to something.  For what a perfect fairytale ending would it be to motor off along the partly-frozen canal, into the Thames and out to sea, never to be seen again in a boat full of books?   It reminded me of the nights I feel asleep dreaming of drifting away in a shoe with Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod who ‘sailed off on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew.’

TBR Pile #1

Livability’s top ten cities for book lovers…Have you ever read such a wonderful list?  They rank cities based upon the presence of independent bookstores, support of those books, and a few other factors.  Most the cities were surprises to me, in a refreshing way.

Even if your favorite city for books isn’t on it, the idea is compelling.  It may be worth compiling your own list.  What would be on it?  Or, if there’s traveling in your future, perhaps you can choose one of these places.  I think it’s worth doing, planning travel around the love  of reading and purchasing books.

As for this list, I’m partial to their number one city, the city of roses.  I fell in love with Portland as a place, at least, to visit when I went to the Rose Garden and Powells in the same day.  And Jake’s Grill only sealed the deal.

Today, that indie movement is reflected in every art form and explosion of social media platforms is the Sundance screen for independent artists, authors, musicians, and artisans.  Writers are self-publishing or finding small indie houses that accept a wider range of voices than the Big Boy publishing houses which are all but slamming their doors to new authors.  Bands are creating a following on YouTube without benefit of a record label.  Pinterest and Etsy are the media for artisans to display and sell their wares. Websites and blogs, tweets, links, and posts are the modern day portfolios, demos, business cards, and open studios for  garage bands, artists, and writers alike. At risk of sounding cliché, it really is a new frontier out there.

Just as we are often encouraged to “shop local” to support our community merchants, I’m encouraging people to support the indie artists you know, be they authors, musicians, performing artists, and artisans.  This is my version of “Take an Indie Artist to Lunch, Sort Of”.

Below are some low and no-cost ways to support indie artists of all kinds:

• Be a “Friend”: As much as social media can be a tedious place where we read about the digestive failures of people’s cats and are asked to “like” their new bangs, these sites are also places where real people make real connections and where artists announce, celebrate, and promote their work.  Friend them, Like them, Follow their blogs, posts, and tweets. This is more than being nice. Having a following in social media is a way for an artist to substantiate their viability to publishing houses and others who might eventually sponsor, publish, or promote their work.  By friending, liking, and following, you are helping an artist to build her “platform” for current and future creations.

• Share the Love: If you find a blog, a tweet, a website, or a Facebook fan page of an indie artist and you actually like it (in the traditional you-really-like-it sense), pass it on.  Share the info with your network of people. This is about the only way that the tiny voice of an indie artist has a chance to become a blockbuster. Lots of writers and artists don’t do it for the money, but hey…wouldn’t it be nice if they actually made some?

• Become a Groupie:  It takes guts for an indie band to book a gig or an indie author to do a public reading.  A friendly face in the crowd means a lot. Check out your local clubs, galleries, and independent bookstores.  Author and artist events happen all the time.  They’re often low cost, or even free.  Bring a friend…or three with you.  It’s a cheap night out.

• Buy Indie: Local independent bookstores are white-knuckling their way through the struggling economy.  Sometimes it costs a bit more to buy at these stores than it does to order online.  But remember, you’re not just buying a book, you’re supporting a local merchant and ensuring that indie authors have a place where their books can be sold.  This is true of music clubs, crafts fairs, and galleries, too. Quite a few folks on my holiday list got indie books this Christmas.  A triple win as far as I’m concerned.

• Promote What You Enjoy:  If you know an indie book or band or artist you really like, mention it to you local library, bookstore, gallery, or club.  Request that they stock the book, feature the artist, or host a gig.  Libraries and bookstores respond to requests.  I’d bet that other venues do as well.

• Offer Critique: Amazon, Goodreads, and other commercial and social networking sites offer opportunity for you to review books.  LinkedIn offers the opportunity to “endorse” people for their skills.  If you read a book, see a performance or a piece of art you like—or even love—find a way to share your applause on social media sites.  Talk it up. Pass it on. All of this helps artists to promote their work.

I am blessed with family, friends, and writing tribe mates who encourage, applaud, and celebrate each milestone with me.  With a book launch for Fire & Water coming up in March, I’ve already had so many loved ones offer to host celebration parties that I hardly know what to do with myself.  Glasses have been lifted. Cards of congratulations have been delivered. Hugs—both of the in-person and virtual variety—have been shared.  It’s even a little embarrassing, but I think I can take it.  Much of the real work of indie artists is invisible. All of the rough drafts, practice hours, rejection slips, and failed attempts occur without broadcast.  When somebody’s finally got a product or performance that’s ready to share with the world, it’s a freakin’ big deal reflecting years of unapplauded work and it deserves celebration.  So lift a glass, send a card, or even take an indie artist to lunch.

In future posts on this blog I’m going to practice what I’m preaching.  I’m going to be featuring indie artists, sending links, maybe even conducting a few interviews with authors, musicians and other creative folks and sharing what I learn with my blog followers.  It should be fun.  I’d love to hear about the authors, musicians, and artists you discover, too.  All of this is in service of my philosophy that art finds a way.

What indie books, films, artists, or musicians do you enjoy?  Feel free to share them here.

Persephone Books, 59 Lamb’s Conduit Street, London, WC1N 3NB

Persephone Books is a really wonderful bookshop because, bucking the trend of generalising and synthesising  that big chains started and so many independents are being forced into to stay afloat, Persephone is doing it their own way.  Instead of pandering to the momentary obsession of the public, who, frankly, sometimes don’t know what’s best for them, Persephone’s stock consists almost exclusively of little-known or previously-unpublished books from the early twentieth century by forgotten or overlooked authors, most of whom (but not all!) are women.

There are a couple of titles by biggies like Virginia Woolf, Leonard Woolf, Katherine Mansfield and Frances Hodgson Burnett, but most of the rest are very obscure.  Persephone should be lauded for bringing their books back to the light of day.

Unfortunately for these authors, the light of the day they’ve just seen was pretty non-existent.  It’s bad luck to be reincarnated on such a grey and dreary day of January in England. If not for my lunchtime poke through this bookshop, I would have written off the day to the “Should’ve Spent it in Bed” category. But even in the drizzle, Persephone is the most appealing in a long row of attractive shops on Lamb’s Conduit Street.  In the window, Persephone’s books and Persephone Classics (the favourites, which have pretty covers!) are displayed beautifully, along with some very tasteful bunting and a little basket with free copies of the Biannual magazine which passersby can grab.

Inside, the shop is warm.  It’s dimly lit, with the glow of Old Hollywood but the front windows are big and bright, letting in what little sun there is to be let in on grey winter days.  The walls are decorated with wartime posters and suffragette posters, in keeping with the feel of the shop and the books in it. The whole thing feels a bit like your aunt’s  living room, but in a good way.  Like your cool old aunt who got arrested for political activism once and now plays bridge and knits.  It’s not exactly a place for sprawling up and putting your feet out; the hush of the shop and the quiet road are too serious for that.  But it’s certainly a place where you can quietly wander, browsing and poking through shelves and enjoying the comfortable, comforting silence.

Very little of the shop is actually for books; probably the back 2/3 is where the staff work.  You can just snatch a peek at the back room, where boxes of books are piled high and an antique typewriter crouches seductively on a desk.  But in the front, the shelves are covered with grey Persephone books of all sizes.  Each book has a grey cover with a simple, minimalist design and a uniquely designed inside leaf.  There is a pile of copies of each title, with a pile of bookmarks specific to each book lying beside them.  Since these titles are so little-known, under each pile there is a brief summary of the book to help clueless browsers (like me) muddle through.  It’s a great system!  I wish they had it in every bookshop!

Today I bought a book called Manja by Anna Gmeyner, which is the story of five children who grow up together and try to remain loyal friends to each other in the chaotic lead-up to the second world war.  All the books cost £12 (or 3 for £30) regardless of their size, which makes things easy.  Some would grumble  at the idea of spending £12 for a paperback when you can get it for 20p on Amazon, but those people would be gravely misbehaving, for two reasons.  Firstly, at Waterstone’s you’d pay probably around £8 for a paperback.  If you’re seriously telling me you wouldn’t be willing to fork over an extra £4 for a beautiful, specially designed book that’s been saved from the rubbish bin of history by the  hard work and talent of passionate bibliophiles and can be found not in a massive, screeching circus-like superstore but in a quiet, elegant little bookshop…well frankly, you just don’t deserve to know how to read, now do you?  Secondly, the books published and sold by Persephone are theirs alone; they rescued them and their bookshop is the only place you’ll find most of them.

It’s possible, I suppose, that we’re already living in a world where the art of browsing is lost and nobody ever reads anything but Amazon’s top ten.  But Persephone begs to differ.

Here is a business that could have arisen from nothing but an absolute passion for literature and a serious and sustained interest in uncovering forgotten, hidden or marginalised voices from the past.  If you doubt it, just imagine the hypothetical meeting with a stuffy old bank man, trying to explain to him that you want a loan to start up a bookshop in London that only sells obscure novels that you’ve dug up from the inter-war years by authors who never really made it big and most people have never heard of.  This could only have been a labour of love.  This shop is the little engine that could; despite half the population’s scepticism about the importance of books and their future in our  lives, Persephone is going strong and, in fact, doing better than ever.  Some of the titles they’ve reintroduced have been picked up by mainstream media and turned into films like Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day and The Making of a Lady (formerly the book The Making of a Marchioness by Frances Hodgson Burnett.)  And now that stuffy old business man (who I’ve maliciously created and imagine is purple-faced, chubby, has boils on his face and enjoys eating children) is kicking himself for not getting in on this.

The fact that it’s still there and thriving and shows no signs of slowing down fills me with a warm feeling that makes me want to hug everyone.  It goes to show that if you believe in something enough, no one can take it away from you. And if you are lucky enough to find crazy people who think your crazy idea is brilliant, you’re set, despite what the soothsayers say.  The fact that this place exists makes a strong argument that we Book-Lovers, we loyal Page-Sniffers, we Shelf-Stalkers, we Yarn-Spinners, we few, we happy few, we band of brothers…wait, that’s not mine…well, we believers should take heart and have hope because places as special as this, books as meaningful as these, will not be going anywhere without a fight.

]]> http://scrapbookhistory.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/jan-29-reading-in-nyc-st-marks-bookshop/ Mon, 07 Jan 2013 19:16:45 +0000 ellen gruber garvey http://scrapbookhistory.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/jan-29-reading-in-nyc-st-marks-bookshop/ http://digitalblacklit.com/2013/01/05/a-black-bookstore-is-a-terrible-thing-to-waste/ Sat, 05 Jan 2013 20:55:21 +0000 jegna713 http://digitalblacklit.com/2013/01/05/a-black-bookstore-is-a-terrible-thing-to-waste/ As a Black bibliophile and a digital immigrant I do my best to keep up with technology and to use it, wisely. There are about 35 books on my IPAD.  I can take this portable-digital-library around with me in a space no larger than a legal pad. In spite of this convenience I do not intend to stop reading or buying physical books. And I strongly suggest that Black people not give up their physical book collections. Here is why!

In 2008 the Black community lost Karibu Books the largest independent chain of bookstores in the nation. This Black owned and operated six-store chain was a place where African-American authors could promote their books when mainstream stores turned them away. In July 2012, a major player in the cultural life of Harlem, Hue-Man Books closed its doors. Currently the only independent full service Black owned and operated bookstore in the metropolitan Washington area is Sankofa Books on Georgia Avenue across from Howard University.

As enslaved Africans we were legislated into illiteracy. We need these stores.  If we keep losing Black bookstores operated by people knowledgeable about and sensitive to our history and culture  many great books, for children and adults alike,may never be discovered or sold.

Without Black authors we lose part of our voice. Without Black bookstores African American authors lose touch with the community for which they serve.  There are many African American writers who will have no problem getting exposure, but what about the other voices? These writers may not be as prominent, but they still have something important to say. It is through the Black owned and operated bookstore that we build and nurture the community needed to support Black authors and their work.

The question is with the advent of digital technology and the demise of brick and mortar book stores will Black books become artifacts? Will Black people reduce reading to a leisure time activity only? Will the content of what is read be done strictly for entertainment or for information to get a specific job done? WHAT DO YOU THINK?

@ Quimby’s Bookstore in Chicago (Quimby’s specializes in zines, small press, and other unusual publications)—  

I can’t ignore the sound of these keys tip-tapping away either. They’ve been at it nearly every day this year. I’m blessed to have this space to record my obsession with books and independent bookstores and, this year in particular, a myriad other interests. I’m blessed most of all to have readers who want to read what I have to say. Heaven knows why.

That’s the heart of it, really. I could tell you about the pile of books on my coffee table right now, but you’ll hear about those soon enough. I could go back and make a superlative list of my favorite indie bookstores from 2012, though I’d hate to have to leave any of them out. I could create a Best and Worst of 2012 book list for you and add my voice to the many clambering for attention in all four corners of the blogosphere, but there won’t be too many surprises on my list, especially if you’ve been following these pages for a while (The Magicians? No. The Night Circus? Yes.) So I’ll spare you.

So instead, I’ll simply say: Happy New Year. May 2013 promise adventure and surprise for you at every turn, and may you all be truly blessed.

Thank you for reading!

(The Best is Yet to Come pillow from Casa and Co.)

@Boneshaker Books, Minneapolis, Minnesota—July 2012   

It’s no surprise to me, then, that independent bookstores appear to be doing particularly well this holiday season, despite the lack of breakout hits like last years’ Steve Jobsbiography by Walter Isaacson. Yesterday The New York Times reported that while sales for Barnes and Noble have been mixed, most indie stores are doing pretty well for themselves right now:

There are many reasons bookstores point to for their successful holiday season. President Obama, they note, set the stage when he took his daughters, Sasha and Malia, to One More Page Books in Arlington, Va., on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, where he snapped up 15 children’s books.

Small bookstores report that they are also benefiting from the popularity of Kobo e-readers, which were designed for independent bookstores and allow customers to buy e-books through the independents’ Web sites, as opposed to say, Amazon.

Steve Bercu, an owner of BookPeople in Austin, Tex., said sales were up 10 percent over last year. He said that shoppers were buying coffee-table books but were also snapping up Kobo devices.  “I was a naysayer,” he said, “but they are buying the actual devices, which surprised me.”

Becky Anderson, the owner of Anderson’s Bookshop in Naperville, Ill., said: “Our Black Friday and Small Business Saturday sales were up considerably over last year. That includes hardcovers and purchases made over the Internet, which we either ship or that you can pick up at the store.”

You can read the rest of the article, which I highly recommend, over at the NYTimes website. So much of the media’s coverage on books right now is focused on the doom and gloom of what’s been called a dying industry, so it’s nice to see some news that’s a little more positive!

A great place to wander and get in loads of trouble–the store has an incredible selection of high quality gently used books–and a few new ones! I was honored to be included in Georgann Eubanks’ recent presentation on her “Literary Trails of North Carolina” series, where we talked about the work of Chatham authors Nancy Peacock, Duncan Murrell, Doris Betts, Lawrence Naumoff, Virginia Boyd, Michael Parker, and others. I got to talk about “literary houses, hippies, and chicken trucks in Chatham” — with nods to “Shade Tree House,” which inspired the opening lines of my story collection ACCIDENTAL BIRDS OF THE CAROLINAS; the Alston Plantation, which inspired Nancy Peacock’s tales of black and white family connections in HOME ACROSS THE ROAD; Lawrence Naumoff’s old farmhouse in SILK HOPE; and Doris Betts’ chicken truck crash scene in SOULS RAISED FROM THE DEAD.

After the talk, Georgann got to see her book on the wall mural! Mine was included a few weeks later, and there are more to come. It’s a pleasure to be in such good company, but then you always are with North Carolina writers.

Circle City Books Mural

May I suggest a “mini retreat” for writers, especially the cash-strapped (probably all of us except Stephen King). Bring your writers group to Circle City Books, spend an hour or so stacking up some favorites at discount prices, then go outside and have your picture taken with the enormous book of a favorite NC author! Post it on your Facebook page!

Then–go have lunch with writer friends. when you’re done celebrating the rollicking side of the writer’s life, go find yourself some quiet place to read that stack. Reveiw your favorite writers on Good Reads and other blogs. Study, then write.

Who knows? The mural may have to go around the block by the time it’s done.

Stanfords, 12-14 Long Acre, London, WC2E 9LP

Going to Covent Garden a week before Christmas is a really, really bad idea.  Yes, it looks lovely.  Everything is atwinkle with the light of a million Rudolph’s noses and the festive cheer is contagious.  But unless you’re someone who loves crowds (I’m not), you’ll feel like a total Scrooge for wanting to swiftly and silently murder the throng of jolly Yuletide shoppers.

No one wants to feel Scrooge-y.

The only reason to brave such an excursion is if you are on the prowl for a bookshop.  Today, I battled through with my elbows out to get to Stanfords on Long Acre, the famous maps and travel bookshop.

The shop is full of maps!  Maps as big as your wall and maps that fit in your pocket; maps of the whole world and maps of individual neighbourhoods.  There are travel guides, travel fiction and travel accessories.

Stanfords is bigger and more commercial than most of my usual haunts, but variety is always a good thing and Stanfords really is a lovely place.  I don’t know if it was just because it’s so close to Christmas, or if it’s the fact that everyone in the shop is dreaming about their next adventure, but the atmosphere was positively buzzing with excitement.

But when you think about it, of course it is!  Even those who aren’t afflicted with a travel addiction know that the thought of vacating your everyday life for a little while and going somewhere exciting and different and fundamentally new is intoxicating.  Looking at maps, spinning globes and reading about museums, galleries and independent cafes in other cities is a joy.  In Stanfords, I think what people are really buying are the possibilities.  They’re buying the knowledge that Spain and Thailand and South Africa and Brazil are out there, somewhere, waiting for them. They’re imagining that those places can be explored by strolls through piazzas, wanders through independent librerías and restaurants with ocean views or by treks through the forests, bike rides along the coast, hikes up the mountains.  Stanfords has maps and books for all these possibilities, telling you how to cycle through France, jog in New York, hike in Tibet or bungee-jump in Vietnam.

Stanfords has everything you need for a trip to, say, Moscow.  Maps of the city and all its neighbourhoods, a huge selection of travel guides, guides to the surrounding area, books about contemporary and historical Russian politics, histories of the Czars and the Russian Revolution and books written by Russian writers and set in Russia.  Because who wants to go to Moscow without having read Tolstoy?

And the fact that Stanfords realises this is what I love most about this bookshop.  Books are not only seen as accessories to or facilitators of travel, but also as travelling companions.  They are worth bringing along not just to consult them about whether there’s a Starbucks in Lima, but also to complement your experience of the world’s invisible cities by reading the stories of their famous voices and their marginalised ones and by understanding the vast differences and, more importantly, the similarities between them.

Personally, I’ve always tended to separate reading from travelling, though I don’t know why I should!  Although one of my favourite parts of visiting a new city is exploring its bookshops (in fact I got the inspiration for this blog in an independent bookshop in Stockholm), I tend to imagine that there are the real journeys I make through streets and cities and the imaginative journeys I make in books, while sitting in my armchair with a cup of Darjeeling.  My visit to Stanfords today reminded me that a book, even if it’s just a map or a travel guide, is the perfect travelling companion.  Not only does it quietly acquiesce without a single complaint to your insistence on visiting every single church in Florence, but it lets you stick your tickets and metro passes in its pages, to be pulled out and remembered one day years later. My own copy of Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South will forever remind me of a romantic weekend in Sweden spent reading, drinking tea and eating kanelbulle in Östermalm, as will Strindberg’s Miss Julie which I bought there in a foreign language bookshop.  One day, looking back at your swollen copy of Dubliners you’ll remember that it rained every day you were in Ireland; your tattered map of Tangiers will remind you that for the life of you, you just couldn’t get the layout of the city straight in your head and it will call to mind the many  unplanned adventures you had in its back-alleys.

So, I was hoping you’d be game for to a little wishful thinking and tell me your recommendations. You know, just in case. Which indies should we visit on our dream road trip?

I also love the smell of old books, finding that novel that I didn’t know I wanted, chatting with the owners and other customers, and stroking the obligatory cats that inhabit so many independent shops. I still don’t own an e-reader (or an iphone!), largely because I spend so much time reading stuff on my computer that I have little desire to read even more stuff on an even smaller screen. I have nothing against those who do, but I’m not in a rush to join their numbers. I’m sure I’ll succumb eventually, but I don’t think I’ll stop buying regular books. Just as there are currently books I chose to consume via Audible–Our Mutual Friend, say–there will be others I have no desire to own a physical copy of–anything by Dave Eggers, for example.

In short, I find all the doom and gloom about the death of bricks and mortar bookstores to be very dispiriting. But while the market may no longer be able to support, say, 26 indie booksellers in downtown Philadelphia (as it did in the mid-20th century) I believe that there is still room for such operations (if fewer of them are supportable).  For more on the details, which are largely specific to NYC and Philly, check out my latest blog post for Next American City.

A taste:

Robin’s Books in Philadelphia is going out of business. Again. When Larry Robin joined the family business in the early 1960s — his grandfather had opened the store in 1936 — there were 26 independent bookstores in Center City. Then came the litany of doom that attends every article on this topic: box stores, Amazon, ebooks. Today there are, by my count, four (soon to be three) indie booksellers downtown.

As Robin relates the history of the store — there was the time when the late Sen. Arlen Specter prosecuted the hell out of it for selling Tropic of Cancer — about a dozen people wander in and out, browsing the tremendously discounted stock (90 percent off of whatever is left). “The best way to sell books is to go out of business,” Larry says, chuckling.

But Robin’s fate isn’t necessarily a sign of the times. The store has been struggling for a while and, if Amazon is largely to blame for the precipitous decline in its walk-in trade, the store’s second-floor location didn’t help, either. (Even I, a used book fiend, didn’t notice it until I’d been in Philly for two years.) The other Philly booksellers I spoke with were less than enthusiastic about the Kindle Fire, but they have no plans to close down.

I was honored to be the featured author. After my talk, about volume 4 of my Voices from the Underground Series (Joe Grant’s Stop the Presses! I Want to Get Off: A Brief History of the Prisoners’ Digest International), I had the further honor of introducing Scott.

The venue was Avenue Café, next door to the bookstore. Café owner Colleen graciously donated refreshments for the reception that preceded my talk. The event was sponsored by the Peace Education Center, an amazing activist group that has been on the forefront of progressive political issues for over forty years.

Following are my introductory words after my author talk:

Now I want to talk about the bookstore next door. Everybody Reads is becoming unique. This isn’t a good thing. Independent bookstores are facing competition unlike any they’ve ever faced, from electronic bookstores, and they’re fighting for their lives. They’ve always competed against the chains, but now the chains are facing the same competition, and they’re losing. Remember B. Dalton? Ever hear of that little bookstore down the road in Ann Arbor: Borders?

So we’re here tonight to call attention to the most important—is it the only?—independent bookstore in Lansing: Everybody Reads.

It’s a library where you can browse through books, read a few chapters, and find the ones that fit your style and interest level.

• It’s a treasure map where you can discover authors you never heard of because their books happen to be shelved next to the ones you came looking for.
• It’s a community gathering place where you can meet with friends and group members to talk politics and literature in a stimulating environment, with food brought in from next door—from Avenue Café.

You can’t bring food to an electronic bookstore.

To me as an author, Everybody Reads is unique in the way they treat their visiting authors. I mean absolutely unique, not almost unique. Did you know that when authors speak here, and then they sell books, all of the proceeds from sales of their books go straight to them? The bookstore keeps nothing—just because Scott Harris wants to support authors.

This is unheard of. I’ve spoken at bookstores all over the country in the past quarter of a century. None had such an author-friendly policy.

So I’m here tonight to show my gratitude to Everybody Reads and to Scott Harris, because of his vision and his hard work and dedication to the store and this community.

And I’m here to tell you to buy lots of my books tonight because all of the proceeds are going to Everybody Reads. Buy them for yourselves or for holiday gifts. As the end of the year approaches, it’s time to get your taxes in order. Buy a complete set of the series and donate it to your favorite library. If we run out, place your order and we’ll deliver it to you.

I want Everybody Reads to make it because I love books, I love community gathering places, and, although I’m no longer a resident, I love Lansing. Those are some of my reasons for being here tonight. What are yours?

Several attendees followed me with words of their own and then I introduced Scott.

Scott expressed his appreciation for our show of appreciation and then told the story—which he said he has told many times before but which many of us in attendance had never heard—about his own past experiences that solidified his value system and led him to open Everybody Reads. Most touching was his explanation of how he came to understand the difference between “charity” and “community,” a distinction that was learned as he and his two young children coped with the early death of his beloved wife, their mother. I’ll post the video when it becomes available. I gave a good talk about volume 4, but Scott’s talk was the highpoint.

A child reading in Brookline Booksmith, an independent bookstore in Boston, Massachusetts. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I just came across this article in The Atlantic about a woman who opened an independent bookstore in the age of Amazon.

While I admit to loving my Kindle and buying books from Amazon specifically to read on my digital devices, I am not about to give up my love for the (physically) printed word. And I know I’m not alone.

There is something so satisfying about reading a real book that you just don’t get reading on an e-reader. On an e-reader, every book is more or less the same. Real books are individuals. Even when you’re reading a brand new one, the difference between paperback and hard bound, paper weights, font size and style, and paper size factor into the reading experience and make it something more than it is on a digital device.

Don’t even get me started on the sweet, sacred smell of old books.

Barnes & Noble/Borders bookstores are great and all, but there is nothing like an independent/used bookstore, where you can walk in the doors and get a giant facefull of old book smell. And you can just hang out there, looking at (read: smelling) books for hours. It’s not weird. I have done this multiple times and I am almost never the only one.

So even though I am an avid technology lover and e-reader user, I have been disheartened in years past because the independent bookstores are closing their doors one right after the other. Heck, the only reason I think B&N is staying afloat is because of the Nook‘s success (despite having to keep pace with the Kindle and now the iPad).

Dear reader, I don’t know what I’ll do when there are no more old books to smell.

That’s why I loved the Atlantic’s article so much. It’s clear that I am not the only bookstore enthusiast out there.

What about you? Do you still go to bookstores or are you married to your e-reader now?

If you love the convenience of ebooks but you’re devoted to supporting locally-owned bookstores, check out this list of participating booksellers on Indie Bound. Through the Kobo eReading Program, you can purchase and read ebooks on Nook*, iPad, Sony Reader and Android Devices. Participating bookstores receive credit for your purchases.

Here’s the how-to:

1. Click on the bookstore of your choice and from their website, set up your Kobo account.
2. Or, purchase a Kobo Mini or Glo eReader bought from the store.
3. Download the Kobo app onto your device. You can then designate your participating independent bookstore in the settings. (*With Nook, you need to side load your Kobo titles onto the reader. It’s easy and I’m happy to share. Just leave a comment at the end of the post.)
4. Through your Kobo account, browse, search for, and buy ebooks with a clean conscience!

If you have questions,ask away in the Comments.

Disclosure: I am not a tech expert. But I do love to play with gadgets. I own a Nook device but also carry the Nook, Kobo and Kindle apps on my smarty-pants phone.

Thanksgiving creeped up so quickly there was barely anytime to organize my thoughts, let alone my thanks! After a weekend of recovery and much needed fresh air, today we can continue the spirit of giving thanks this holiday season. (who says we’re only thankful one Thursday in November? Carry on.)

My counterpart listed the things she’s most thankful for over the weekend, below are the people and things I’m most thankful for in 2012.

1. Stephen King (obviously)

I don’t know where I was when this book first came out in 2000, but Stephen King’s On Writing has become a literary bible of sorts to me, mainly because it is not your typical ‘thou shalt not…’ in mundane fashion. Instead, the King offers a bit of memoir artfully blended with instructional suggestions for writers of all types with a heavy emphasis on writing for yourself, (not the money, not the fame, etc). We’ll feature this book in our Bookish Sundays series in a few weeks, so grab your copy so you can join the discussion too. A few favorites from my literary mentor:

The Dark Tower (complete series)

The Stand

The Shining

Insomnia

2. Bill Maher

Though the season officially ended a week after the election, Bill Maher forever remains my political pundit savior. Whether he’s calling out the right for their obvious absurdities, or criticizing the left for their lack of action, he continuously gives it to us straight without regard for the national media’s addiction to nonsense and theater rather than the news and facts (eh hem, Fox News]. Yes, sometimes he is totally out of line with his commentary, but at least they’re based in truth! Real Time returns January 18th but in the mean time catch up on HBO Go and play around with the discussion boards.

3. A year at the box office

Okay. Many people have their mixed feelings about The Amazing Spider-Man, but I have to say it; I’d much rather see Andrew Garfield in Spidey’s suit over Tobey Maguire.

Likewise, The Dark Knight Rises was my favorite of Nolan’s films, despite the fact that the time jumps didn’t seem to flow as seamlessly as it was intended to. Aside from the tiny details that drove me mad watching the film in IMAX, I know I’ll watch the DVD at least a hundred times in my lifetime.

Taking the cake though for all around perfect comic-based blockbuster of 2012 was The Avengers, which somehow became the highlight of my summer. There was just enough comedy, drama and whatever else you need from Marvel comics to satisfy you. And even better, they’re all available on DVD & Blu-Ray this holiday season–making for great stocking stuffers.

Bonus: Though still in theaters, it would be sin to not comment on my thanks to the James Bond (Happy 50th Anniversary!) heartthrob that is Daniel Craig in Skyfall. Confession: I’ve seen it twice already! Go and see it, if not just to see the beautiful Eve Moneypenny played by Naomie Harris.

4. My favorite magazine writers: Benjamin Wallace-Wells (NY Mag); James Surowiecki (The New Yorker Financial Page); James Wolcott (Vanity Fair)

There are not many writers that I recognize by name (sadly) because I’m so busy reading their stories I forget to look at bylines! But without a doubt, when I am literarily moved by a piece in one of my magazines, I instantly recognize the tone, style and storytelling of Benjamin Wallace-Wells at New York Magazine, James Surowiecki’s incredibly smart but simplified explanation of our economic woes in The New Yorker, and the late literary genius behind Vanity Fair’s monthly literature column and other musings. Today I’m reading Benjamin Wallace’s The Truce on Drugs. Despite my mixed feelings about marijuana, it’s an exceptional read. Disaster Economics by Surowiecki in The New Yorker’s Dec. 3rd issue is an insightful lesson in preparedness vs. relief after natural disasters. Christopher Hitchens, though gone, is surely a legend on the pages of Vanity Fair and everywhere serious literary figures exist. Though his passing last winter was a tragic loss, his words remain in abundance in the magazine’s archive of essays and interviews continue to surface from the clever and quick-witted Hitchens briefcase. The August issue featured a lengthy analysis of George Orwell’s Diaries and the man himself. I always say there’s nothing wrong with reading old issues of any magazine.

5. Independent bookstores

My first visit to McNally Jackson Books in SoHo could only be described as love at first sight. Cheesy, I know, but true. A slight reminder of my love for Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn, McNally Jackson has a few charms of its own. Whether you’re visiting to peruse the shelves, take in a reading or talk or have your own unpublished work bound with their publishing service, the tight but comfortable shop offers an escape from the mile-long books cluttered throughout  Strand. Yes, we all love Strand, but if being completely honest, I cannot shop there unless I know exactly what I’m looking for and can ask for some assistance. There are several other lesser known independent bookstores throughout the city, but these are my go-to. This holiday season, I am bound to find a book for at least 3 of the people on my gift list, and look forward to the nerdy, simple giftwrap! And thank you McNally Jackson for introducing me to A Public Space, an “independent magazine of art and argument, fact and fiction” that I consider a helpful guide to 21st century writers.