Good Company Issue 1

Author and bookstore owner Emma Straub talks to women who are changing the world of bookstores.

I never planned to open a bookstore. It was something that my husband and I talked about from time to time. More specifically, we talked about taking over for the owners of our local bookstore (BookCourt in Brooklyn, New York) when they wanted to retire. We talked about it as seriously as we talked about going to Hawaii someday, or getting matching tattoos: a nice idea that would probably never happen. But then things did happen, and fast—when I was seven months pregnant with our second child, we moved as close as we could to BookCourt. A year later, it closed. We had a plan to open a new store immediately.

The very first thing I did was write an “Am I crazy?” email to Ann Patchett, novelist and owner of Parnassus Books; I then called my friend Christine Onorati, who owns a bookstore, WORD, with three locations. As a former bookseller and a novelist, I knew some of what went into having a bookstore—the endless stream of boxes, the constant alphabetizing, the meetings with sales reps from publishers, the ragtag teams of smart booksellers, always happy to wax rhapsodic about their latest read. There was a lot I didn’t know—a lot we didn’t know—but none of it deterred us, not for a second.

In the industry, we call wide swaths of land (urban, suburban, rural) without bookstores “book deserts.” I live in Brooklyn, which is whatever the opposite of a book desert is. There are WORD, Community Bookstore, Greenlight Bookstore, Stories Bookstore, POWERHOUSE Arena, and many others. There are comic book shops and cookbook shops. For most people, especially those who live in car cultures, where they’re used to driving to grocery stores and school, it would be nonsensical to think that Brooklyn needed, or could sustain, another independent bookstore. But New York City is different—when BookCourt closed, it meant that we could no longer just pop into a bookstore with the stroller, that we could no longer walk to a bookstore with our kids. I knew that if that loss felt immense for us, it would feel immense for others, too. We came to the bookstore from an extremely privileged position—my job as a novelist could sustain our family, and we didn’t need the bookstore to pay our mortgage. We saw it as a community service, a way to give back something important and vital to both the book community and our neighbors.

I had a few strong feelings: the store needed to feel welcoming to everyone, and comfortable for parents and children, in particular. The store needed to strongly represent women writers, and writers of color. The staff needed to be friendly. There needed to be multiple places to sit down. My husband, who has spent the last two decades as a graphic designer, needed everything to look great, for the actual space to be beautiful.

The 2016 election happened a few weeks into our planning. Like so many people, I needed to be peeled off the floor with a spatula. It was, and remains, a nightmarish heartbreak. That night, and the next morning, we wavered—how could we make such an enormous leap, how could we make a commitment so big, when the world was in tatters? That feeling lasted a few hours, but then the cloud passed, and we realized that the uncertain times, the difficult times, the divisive and scary times, they required safe spaces more than any other. Our bookstore would be a port in the storm.

It’s been five months now, as of the moment I’m writing this. Both of my sons are wearing their Books Are Magic (our new shop’s name) T-shirts today, just because. (Well, the big one wanted to, and the little one just wants to do whatever the big one does.) The store is wonderfully busy almost every day, and when it’s not (like on Monday mornings), we know that the sky is not falling, that it’s all part of the routine. We have events almost every night, and a staff of booksellers who are as hilarious and goofy and smart and wonderful as I dreamed. There are hard things—my husband isn’t able to come to school pickup as he used to, and I do sometimes feel that we have sacrificed him to the bookstore gods—but I also know that we are still in the newborn period, and that just like with our two babies, the first six months are a blur of breast-feeding and night-wakings, of trying to separate night from day. I know we’ll get there eventually.

People find community where they seek it, and where they feel comfortable—playing on a team, or cooking brisket for six hours, or singing in a chorus, or birding, or a million other things—but for me, there is nowhere I feel more immediately at home and surrounded by friends than at a bookstore. Reading and writing are solitary activities, but bookstores aren’t solitary places. They aren’t even always quiet. They are spilling over with ideas and suggestions and answers, and right now I think we all need all the ideas and suggestions and answers that we can get. If Books Are Magic can offer that, along with a place to sit, and a bathroom with a changing table, and a pink neon sign, well, then I think we’re doing okay.

Interview with Angela Maria Spring,

founder and owner of Duende District

I am a first-generation Latina and my family is from Central America and Puerto Rico. I have been a bookseller in New Mexico, New York City, and Washington, DC, for seventeen years. I had worked with far too few fellow people of color in bookstores, especially in decision-making positions, so I decided to create a bookstore that celebrates and uplifts all voices of color in the book industry to truly serve communities of color, while welcoming everyone to an amazing bookstore experience.

There are so many tasks involved in owning a bookstore—truly, an astonishing number. How do you decide what to delegate to other staff members? Are there things that you assumed you would always do yourself that you are now happy to have others do?

It’s still mostly just me, so I’ve had to learn to do an overwhelming amount of things I’d never done before. However, I have a talented group of POC (people of color) booksellers I’ve worked with in the past who help create my branding and marketing tools, my website development, and lend their bookselling skills to each individual pop-up space. I have built Duende District as a space for them to shine and they continue to impress me. I am so blessed to have these amazing people on our team.

In my experience as a manager working in large and small bookstore spaces during my career, I firmly believe it is vital for the staff to feel a part of a team and mission, as well as to add their individual strengths to the store. It is a careful balance, but important. As a manager, you should recognize your employees’ strengths and weaknesses, help develop their skills, and give them the opportunity to add their individual voice in a meaningful way. That is how you cultivate a positive environment and a sense of agency.

It is, always has been, and always will be to be on the book floor, to greet customers, talk to them, then put a book in their hands and tell them why I love it and why I think they’ll love it, too.

Now, as the owner/buyer, I get to complete the circle in that every book in Duende District is one I can put in customers’ hands confidently. Whatever they choose themselves, I helped put it in their hands. And it’s about a thousand percent more meaningful because almost every book I stock is by a person of color.

My customer is anyone who believes a bookstore can change our world. My customer is anyone who loves a beautiful, warm, personal bookstore experience. My customer is a person of color who yearns to truly see themselves in their books and bookstores. My customer is anyone who is an ally and champions voices of color. My customer is anyone who knows we must find a way to heal together and changing the narrative through arts and literature is how we can do it.

The publishing world is very white and very male, but there are groups that are shining a light on publishing’s prejudices, blind spots, and failings (VIDA, We Need Diverse Books) and also highlighting and celebrating the work of authors of color, and creating vibrant communities (Well-Read Black Girl). What do you do in your store to help forward those goals?

Duende District is by and for people of color—where all are welcome. Almost all of my books are by authors of color. We have POC artist residents in each pop-up and the majority of staff is POC. I truly believe that not only can we create an authentic bookstore experience for communities of color, where they see themselves reflected and celebrated, but also a place where everyone feels invited to be a part of the conversation and experience.

I am a poet and we are taught “show, don’t tell.” Duende District is all about showing, not telling. It is through our actions that we effect true change. We will sell more books by people of color. We will challenge the publishing industry to produce more books by people of color. We will change what kinds of stories people of color are “allowed” to tell. We will push the industry to hire more editors of color. We will provide a template for other people of color who want to start bookstores in their communities.

In essence, I aim to change the entire book industry, top to bottom, to be more representative. As Angela Davis said, “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change, I am changing the things I cannot accept.”

How much do you actually read? Do you finish everything that you start? Do you designate reading time for the store and reading for pleasure?

My reading habits change with my stress level. I do read two or three books a week, but depending on how stressed-out I am (which is a lot at the moment), the kinds of books change. I mostly read poetry and fiction, with some memoir thrown in.

I don’t finish everything I start. I’m also someone who firmly believes if you’re reading a book recreationally and are not into it, don’t force yourself to finish it. Nothing appalls me more than the idea of disliking something you’re reading when you can simply move on to something more to your taste at the moment. Sometimes it isn’t the right time in your life to read a particular book. Put it aside, come back to it in a few months or a year later, and it might be the perfect book for you at that time.

What do you think is a bookstore’s place in a political climate like ours? Does a bookstore have a responsibility to stay neutral, to stay active, or neither?

I literally don’t get to be neutral. I am a woman of color and first-generation Latinx. My government has basically abandoned my family and people in Puerto Rico with its casual response to an entire island’s infrastructure being utterly destroyed by two hurricanes. My government is working to deport thousands of Hispanics who should be citizens, brought here as children by their parents, who were seeking a better life. My government condones white supremacy and racially motivated violence against people of color. My government is targeting Islamic people of color with travel bans.

Bookstore owners should ask themselves—do you get to stay neutral because none of these things personally affects you? Are you afraid you’ll offend your customers? Why? What do you think will happen if you take a stance one way or another?

Just getting to ask these questions is a privilege. So I can’t say one way or the other whether it’s our responsibility or not, but I certainly don’t think you’re creating a truly open and authentically safe space for any of us who are targeted simply by existing. Being an ally takes courage. Silence is the most dangerous weapon oppression has. It’s my fervent hope that my colleagues are courageous leaders who strive to be allies and understand that staying neutral is not a real option.

I want to open at least one 500- to 800-square-foot store each year, starting in 2018. Each store will be a different model of hybrid business—some partnered within other existing businesses, collectives, or incubating spaces and some stand-alone brick-and-mortar bookstores. The pop-up model lends itself to this model, but I also want to create a flexible business model to suit the needs of each community and to be sustainable in high-rent, high-cost urban areas. This is part of building a new kind of model for bookstores that we can take to people of color all over the country to aid in building their own bookstores.

Interview with Janet Geddis,

founder and owner of Avid Bookshop

From a very young age, I was obsessed with books. Though I’d mentioned opening a bookstore as one of my pipe dreams, I never took it seriously until I found I was unfulfilled in the various other careers I tried. In 2007, I announced I was going to open a bookshop in Athens, Georgia; in 2011, it actually happened.

In my experience, someone who successfully founds her own business is pretty independent and quite adept at being in charge. As someone who likes to have at least relative control over every little thing at Avid Bookshop, I started delegating only through necessity. I’m chronically ill (with chronic migraine disease and psoriatic arthritis), so it was imperative that I have coworkers who can take care of the day-to-day business so that I diminish my chances of burnout and sickness. As my business has grown, I have decided to delegate many tasks, even ones I just love doing. For instance, in late summer 2017 I promoted some longtime booksellers into frontlist (new book) buying roles—even a year ago, I would have told you I’d never give up buying for the shops! I find I have to continually evaluate what parts of the job bring me joy and what parts of the job are not ones I can assign to others, as they’re owner-specific. When I get overwhelmed at work, I make myself analyze what is and isn’t working at work and in my personal life; essentially, I have to remind myself why I started this business in the first place and the positive impacts I want it to have on all parts of my life. From there, I can decide how I want to redesign my position in order to take care of business while feeling fulfilled.

Giving my staff a sense of agency has grown into one of the most important tenets of my business. While it remains hard to delegate tasks and give coworkers more responsibility, I have seen firsthand how the bookseller and certain aspects of the business really blossom when there’s a change in leadership. One challenging thing about being a leader is knowing when to give up parts of your job and allow others to feel ownership over those duties—you have to remind yourself to be okay with the actions taken by the smart, capable people you hired. Most of my managers don’t operate the way I would or approach projects the way I do, but their work is excellent—I’ve had to teach myself to step back and not interfere with the way they run their programs, which can be hard for someone like me!

I will never get over the Christmas-morning feeling of opening freshly delivered boxes of books and gifts. It’s such an exquisite joy to see what treasures will soon be on the shelves. I also love talking to customers, many of whom have become friends. There are so many people of various ages and backgrounds that I never would’ve gotten to know were it not for Avid. I’m so grateful.

We have all sorts of customers (which means we get to carry all sorts of books!). From the young family taking their toddlers to story time to the teenagers who’ve been coming to Avid since they were in elementary school to the college students to the professors and retirees, we serve an astonishing variety of readers and couldn’t be more thankful for that.

Avid Bookshop is proud to be one of the most outspoken businesses we know of when it comes to championing all types of diversity. From the books on the shelves to the displays we make to the events we book to the employees I hire, we aim in all ways to be as welcoming and diverse as possible. During staff meetings, we talk openly about our community’s concerns and blind spots, and I encourage my coworkers to take initiative when it comes to what we offer for sale and what programming we book. While we as a business never endorse a political candidate, we are not shy about speaking up for human rights, equality, antidiscrimination, and the fact that we have a long way to go but are willing to learn, listen, and change. We aim to walk the walk and talk the talk, even if it means occasionally becoming a troll’s target.

It’s been such a pleasure to witness how Avid has evolved over the years. I see my influence most significantly in the way we present ourselves to the world: we are unabashedly enthusiastic about books we love, and we completely adore our town and our customers. By the same token, I have decided to be open and honest about our struggles, from dealing with crappy weekend sales over a football game weekend to the impact chronic illness has on our ability to do all the things we aim to do. As the business has grown over the years, I’ve not only allowed but encouraged my booksellers to let their personalities shine through; six years after opening Avid Bookshop on Prince Avenue, I’m proud to see how funky and welcoming my business is, thanks to the truly kind people I work with.

How much do you actually read? Do you finish everything that you start? Do you designate reading time for the store and reading for pleasure?

Though I occasionally deal with reading ruts, I tend to read at least fifty books a year, not including picture books (which I read frequently!). I’ve become less precious with my reading habits since starting my business—if I start a book, especially an advanced copy of something—I will put it down if it’s not doing anything for me.

What do you think is a bookstore’s place in a political climate like ours? Does a bookstore have a responsibility to stay neutral, to stay active, or neither?

I feel very strongly that Avid’s prominent position in Athens and in the literary community at large bestows upon us the responsibility to be a voice for people who need one. We are fervent supporters of equality, a healthy environment, science, justice, and open-mindedness. I find it utterly heartbreaking that taking a stand for human rights is seen as a political move, one to be attacked by those who want to aid the oppressors. We have gotten more outspoken as the days have passed, and I anticipate many more heartbreaking conversations with staff about what we will do next to let our community know we are a safe, welcoming place.

My bookshops (I have two) are definitely neighborhood-focused. While they’re only two miles apart, they both reflect their individual neighborhoods very well. Athens is a fascinating creative enclave, where literally every other person is a musician, artist, writer, poet, or all of the above. Athens is eclectic and joyful and progressive and smart, and I believe my bookshops reflect that.

I want Avid to flourish so that we can continue to provide gainful employment to the twenty-plus people who work here. Businesswise, I constantly seek ways to improve our profit margin (note to non-bookstore people: this business is notorious for its lack of profit), increase the quality of life for my staff and community, and solidify systems that will keep us successful for the long haul. In ten years’ time, I want to look back and feel proud of the work I’ve done and the voices I’ve helped to empower.

Every day, people come in to the store and ask if we’ll sell their small press or self-published books and magazines. That sale is up to the taste of the buyer, and how they feel their customer will connect with your book. Don’t take it personally! Unless you live around the corner and will send all of your family members to the bookstore and are in there shopping every single day, the bookstore is under no obligation to carry copies of anyone’s book. There is limited space in every bookstore, even big ones, and it’s important not to take their decision personally.

1 If you live near an independent bookstore, go visit them. Ask the booksellers who does the buying. They will likely give you an email address. Write an email to that person with information about your book. What they will probably tell you is to drop off or send over a copy for them to look at—you will not get that copy back. If their office is anything like mine, the buyer is sitting in a sea of books all the time, and you don’t want to give them more to do.

2 If you want your book in other bookstores, ones that are not near enough to visit, just send a copy to the attention of the store’s buyer with a note saying why you think the book would be a good fit for the store.

4 It helps to have your own platform—whether that’s a great social media presence, a website, or some other thing to point buyers to. They want to be able to distinguish your book from the hundreds of other books sitting in piles around their desk. Don’t be afraid to be goofy, or, at the very least, to do something that makes it clear that you are not a robot. The buyer is not a robot either, and if they can separate you from the pack of form letters, they will be much more likely to want to carry your book.

1 Do not call multiple times (or ask your loved ones to call multiple times, pretending not to be the author). I did this. This will not endear you to the booksellers.

2 Don’t worry too much about the print quality—the buyer understands that this is just a sample. If it’s an art book, though, the quality is important, so make sure whatever you send communicates how the finished product will look. If you feel like your finished copy is too expensive to send to lots of places, ask if you can send a digital copy. People will like that. Less waste for all involved.

3 That’s really it. Some stores are very open to carrying zines and small magazines and have a great system in place, and some stores don’t. It never hurts to try. Good luck!