I happen to have been spending a bit of time in bookstores
lately. Some of these experiences have been amazing. I have met booksellers, in
independent stores and in chains, who have an incredible relationship with
their customers. Their stores are places I as a reader would want to wander
into, even if I was miles and miles from home.
But the other day, when I wasn’t miles and miles from home,
I wandered into a large chain store and came away as depressed about
bookselling as I have ever been. Because the people who run that store clearly
have no clue about what they’re doing.
Let me say that the two hardcover books I have out currently
were readily available, and received much more prominent display than many
other books in the store. Some of my backlist was there as well. I appreciate
that. I am extremely grateful for the support the store has given me. As a
writer, I have been fortunate and treated better than many.
But I wasn’t there as a writer; I came as a reader and a
customer. And the general health of this store, and by extension all bookstores
and the writers whose work is sold there, depends on how readers are treated.
The experience was, in a word, hell.
It wasn’t just the fact that a good quarter of the store’s
floor space, if not more, was given over to non-book items such as games,
stationery, etc. Now this wouldn’t be horrible for the store if people were
spending a lot of money in these sections – even though the markups in many
cases didn’t approach what the store could get for books. But these aisles were
empty of people. The selection of items was poor, and the number of items,
compared to how many books might have been positioned there, was pitiful.
I don’t necessarily put a lot of stock in the best-seller
lists, but they are something of an indication of what people want to buy at
any given moment. Did this store make it easy for people to find those books?
No. In fact, you had to hunt around for many of them – if
you bothered. Your impulse buying was directed to “bargain books” – things that
hadn’t sold elsewhere in the past. Many best sellers weren’t prominently
displayed anywhere in the store – maybe a good thing, since the store didn’t
seem to have much stock of them.
On the other hand, books that had a good deal of promotional
money or other consideration attached were piled everywhere. The only problem
was, customers didn’t seem to want those, even with the discounts they were
offering.
It got worse the deeper you went. The main shelves were a
mess. The layout of the books was terrible. With the exception of romance and
very obvious genre mysteries, fiction was a catchall for every type of novel.
Defoe nestled next to DeFelice.
I love the association myself, but I’m kind of wondering if
someone looking for Robinson Crusoe is going to be interested in Andy Fisher or
Jack Pilgrim.
Even in the difficult to navigate nonfiction areas, the
selection was chaotic. A great number of the books appear to have been on the
shelves for years. There is no attempt to highlight the most recent (and most
popular) selections – say the most recent summary of World War II, which has
had good reviews and relatively strong sales. If you’re looking for it, you’ll
come across the store’s single copy in the wrong section, though at least in
the same general area.
Things were even worse over in the music section. I hunted
for a half-hour, back and forth, looking for an album that has been the most
popular music CD for a significant portion of the last twelve months. I
eventually found it by accident. It was actually in a display unit, but the
display unit had been shoved into the back to section and situated so that it
was almost impossible to find.
Most of the rest of the music selections were, in a word,
obscure. There was a smattering of oldies, but this seemed haphazard at best. Finding
anything popular, even in rock, was difficult. This might have been acceptable
or understandable if there was a comprehensive catalog of alternative music,
maybe some vinyl, or things the wannabe hipster manning the department might
have liked – but the selection there was, to be extremely generous, spotty.
I realize CDs are on the way out, but the sales are still,
in raw numbers, fairly significant . . . though let me go out on a limb here
and say, not at this store, despite the floor space devoted to them.
About that wannabe hipster – the store happened to be
running a promotion for a local girls school. The idea was that ten percent of
the proceeds would go to the school if you mentioned the school when you
checked out. I had their flier in hand but forgot to mention the school until
the very end of the transaction, at which point wannabe told me they would not
get the ten percent.
In an instant, what had started as a feel-good, we’re part
of the community venture, turned one hundred and eighty degrees against the
store. Standing at the register, I now felt that the store, even beyond its
disorganization and inept retailing, was actively evil.
I told the hipster that he could cancel my sale. Only the
groans of the people around me made me reconsider. That and the fact that the
gift cards I was planning to use for the purchase would now simply go to waste,
because I will never shop in that store again.
And as you might guess, I happen to spend a lot of money
each year on books. And this store happens to be the closest and largest near
me.
Beyond doing a better job training and managing staff, this
chain ought to take a much closer look at themselves. They should think about
the experience people have buying books on-line – how easy it is, how
selections are suggested, how different items are marketed, connections made,
etc.
I wouldn’t tell them how to run their business if over the
years they hadn’t told me, in so many words, how to run mine. I’m glad I never
took their advice, because clearly they haven’t a clue about what it is they
do, let alone what anyone else in the world is up to.
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