Tag Archives: neighborhood bookstore

The Bookstore Strikes Back

The Bookstore Strikes Back – Ann Patchett – The Atlantic.

Parnassus Books

by Ann Patchett

Author opens an independent bookstore to fill a need.

Address: 3900 Hillsboro Pike, Nashville, TN 37215
Phone:(615) 953-2243

Two years ago, when Nashville lost its only in-town bookstores, the novelist Ann Patchett decided to step into the breach. Parnassus Books, which Patchett and two veteran booksellers envisioned, designed, financed, and manage, is now open for business and enjoying the ride.

In late February I am in my basement, which is really a very nice part of my house that is not done justice by the word basement. For the purposes of this story, let’s call it the Parnassus Fulfillment Center. I have hauled 533 boxed-up hardback copies of my latest novel, State of Wonder, from Parnassus, the bookstore I co-own in Nashville, into my car; driven them across town (three trips there and three trips back); and then lugged them down here to the Parnassus Fulfillment Center. Along with the hardbacks, I have brought in countless paperback copies of my backlist books as well. I sign all these books and stack them up on one enormous and extremely sturdy table. Then I call for backup: Patrik and Niki from the store, my friend Judy, my mother. Together we form an assembly line, taking orders off the bookstore’s Web site, addressing mailing labels, writing tiny thank-you notes to tuck inside the signed copies, then bubble-wrapping, taping, and packing them up to mail. We get a rhythm going, we have a system, and it’s pretty smooth, except for removing the orders from the Web site. What I don’t understand is why, no matter how many orders I delete from the list, the list does not get shorter. We are all work and no progress, and I’m sure something serious must be going wrong. After all, we’ve had this Web site for only a week, and who’s to say we know what we’re doing? “We know what we’re doing,” Niki says, and Patrik, who set up the Web site in the first place, confirms this. They explain to me that the reason the list isn’t getting any shorter is that orders are still coming in.

You may have heard the news that the independent bookstore is dead, that books are dead, that maybe even reading is dead—to which I say: Pull up a chair, friend. I have a story to tell.

The reason I was signing and wrapping books in my basement is that more orders were coming in than the store could handle, and the reason so many orders were coming in is that, a few days before, I had been a guest on The Colbert Report. After a healthy round of jousting about bookstores versus Amazon, Stephen Colbert held a copy of my novel in front of the cameras and exhorted America to buy it from Amazon—to which I, without a moment’s thought (because without a moment’s thought is how I fly these days), shouted, “No! No! Not Amazon. Order it off ParnassusBooks.net, and I’ll sign it for you.” And America took me up on my offer, confirming once and for all that the “Colbert bump” is real. That explains how I got stuck in the basement, but fails to answer the larger question of what a writer of literary fiction whose “new” book was already nine months old was doing on The Colbert Report in the first place. Hang on, because this is where things get weird: I was on the show not because I am a writer but because I am a famous independent bookseller.

Let’s go back to the beginning of the story.

Two years ago, the city of Nashville had two bookstores. One was Davis-Kidd, which had been our much-beloved locally owned and operated independent before selling out to the Ohio-based Joseph-Beth Booksellers chain 15 years earlier. Joseph-Beth moved Davis-Kidd into a mall, provided it with 30,000 square feet of retail space, and put wind chimes and coffee mugs and scented candles in front of the book displays. We continued to call it our “local independent,” even though we knew that wasn’t really true anymore. Nashville also had a Borders, which was about the same size as Davis-Kidd and sat on the edge of Vanderbilt’s campus. (In candor, I should say that Nashville has some truly wonderful used-book stores that range from iconic to overwhelming. But while they play an important role in the cultural fabric of the city, it is a separate role—or maybe that’s just the perspective of someone who writes books for a living.) We have a Barnes & Noble that is a 20-minute drive out of town without traffic, a Books-A-Million on the western edge of the city, near a Costco, and also a Target. Do those count? Not to me, no, they don’t, and they don’t count to any other book-buying Nashvillians with whom I am acquainted.

In December 2010, Davis-Kidd closed. It was profitable, declared the owners from Ohio, who were dismantling the chain, but not profitable enough. Then, in May 2011, our Borders store—also profitable—went the way of all Borders stores. Nashvillians woke up one morning and found that we no longer had a bookstore.

The rest of the story at: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/12/the-bookstore-strikes-back/309164/?single_page=true

1 Comment

Filed under bookstore

Serendipity comes to an end

rosster on cage

The rooster atop the birdcage. Through the window are books offered for sale.

By David E. Booker

I have worked at a struggling independent bookstore. I used to joke that I couldn’t hang out in bars, so I hung out in bookstores instead. Truth is, I probably wouldn’t be hanging around bars anyway. They never held much attraction for me.

But a neighborhood bookstore in a former bar, and on top of that a bar that has a reference in literature? Sometimes more serendipitous things have happened, but for slightly over two years Central Street Bookstore was just such a place. Housed in what was formerly the Corner Lounge, the same Corner Lounge referenced in Cormac McCathy’s novel Suttree, it was a place where you could find a good used or rare book as well as stand at the bar that may have been around when Cormac McCarthy lived in Knoxville.

You could also find interesting curiosities such as an orrery, a smiling Buddha with red nipples, a limber-headed statue of Edgar Alan Poe, and a rooster sitting atop a birdcage housing lights. It was a place, as owner John Coleman said, “where people can still make serendipitous discoveries,” be those discoveries novels by authors you knew or didn’t know (including Suttree and other books by McCarthy), books of poetry, history books, and copies of books you might not find anywhere else, including comic books and even the occasional book on tape. I found and bought probably way too many books there for myself and friends, including some this past Christmas.

Books on shelves

Some of the books for sale at Central Street Books.

Unfortunately, that will all end this March 2013, when Central Street Books closes its doors. John says the store is too small to be profitable, and that at least for the moment, he’ll concentrate on his Internet book selling and traveling to sell at book fairs. He will also have some books at a local antique mall. The struggling independent bookstore I worked at over 15 years ago is also closed. Has been for many years. The building is now home to an Oriental restaurant.

It was a serendipitous that this bookstore showed up in my neighborhood, even if for only two years. I’m just not sure where my next serendipitous finds will be found.

Book sign

Books and more.

Leave a comment

Filed under Essay, Photo by author, Sunday story