Comparing Independent and Super Bookstores:
A Personal Adventure in Book Hunting
I frequent bookstores. It is a pleasure I have enjoyed as long as I can remember. I never analyzed why I like books, it simply natural to me. However, reading books, going to bookstores and libraries are not the whole hobby. Finding certain books became an adventure taking over hunting and fishing excursions. Book hunting is a challenging sport but I doubt if my former fishing and hunting partners would understand it. I consider it a sport, because like hunting and fishing there are quarry to be taken. Often the game eludes the hunter. Sometimes great distances are traveled, expenses mount up, and the desired game is not found. It escaped, grabbed by someone else, or never was there to begin with. Frustration is possible in book hunting but it usually is soothed by buying another book. Try doing that after a long day in the wilds in search of deer or trout.
Comparing book habitations may help a book hunter find his prey. Like fish and game, books come in all sizes, have diverse characteristics, and prefer different types of terrain. That certain kinds of books are found in different types of bookstores escaped my notice for more years than I like to admit. I made many trips to find a book by favorite authors without regard to the characteristics of bookstores. Seeking a book was based on whether a bookstore was near or far away. Was the store on the way to some place else, or open at the time I was near it.
A book hunting adventure last spring explains when, where, and how a particular book was brought to ground. I am a Neal Stephenson fan. Mr. Stephenson hammered out a historical fiction trilogy encompassing the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. I had the first and third books, but the second had eluded me. How The Confusion managed to avoid me, I don’t know. Perhaps its title caused a metaphorical cloaking influence on my mind as I tried to find it. Whatever the cause, one evening I stopped by the Tigard Borders bookstore on my way to Portland, hoping to catch it by surprise.
Borders in Tigard is a new and modern building enclosing a large number of always-new books. I had visited it several times over the years. It is next to a freeway off-ramp and allows easy access during an episode of book hunting. It also has many new books on sale. It is clean, I do not worry about someone breaking into my car, and they have great coffee and scones. One Borders characteristic is that it is never the same when I visit it. Although book categories tend to stay in the same area, the content of the bookshelves change all the time.
Neal Stephenson made his name writing science fiction and even though his trilogy was historical fiction, I suspected The Confusion would be in Sci-Fi. It wasn’t. I explored the popular fiction area and could not find The Confusion there. I did find some paperback Stephenson books in the science fiction area but not his trilogy. I didn’t want a paperback anyway. The quarry was a first edition hardcover.
Why didn't I ask someone for help when looking for The Confusion? I rarely ask for help in a bookstore. It would be like asking a hunting or fishing partner to do all the work. Kill the game, hook the fish, dress, or clean it too. So I always feel a little embarrassed when asking a bookseller for help, but I did. Borders has different books on the shelves each time I visit. In this adventure, there was no one at the Help Desk placed in the middle of the store. I felt lost, off in the woods without a landmark to speak of. A clerk who was on an errand, rushed by, and I could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet my eye as she scurried past, that what concerned her was more important then matching customer to book. I gave chase and after calling out to her twice she stopped but she did not recognize I was a potential buyer. I asked her if she knew where I could find The Confusion and she looked anxious. I asked her again but this time included the name of the author with the title. She sighed and pointed to what looked like an ATM.
“You can find everything in the store by looking it up in the directory. Just type it in.” And away she went. I found the directory to be easy enough, and after browsing through ads and a lot of stuff that didn’t have anything to do with what I was looking for, discovered they didn’t have The Confusion. Eventually, a bookseller came by after noticing my confusion. I asked for The Confusion and she said that they no longer carried that book. I consoled myself with a coffee and scone before leaving.
Stephenson’s trilogy had come and gone at Borders. The last two in his series were published a year before and now they were not on their shelves. I expect the books confused whoever stocked the bookshelves.
Neal Stephenson writes science fiction but he also wrote three well-researched, unique, and speculative historical novels. Instead of writing fiction of the future, he devised a blend of history and speculation and broke the bonds of genre. It is possible the stockers at Borders didn’t know what to do with his books. Where do you put speculative historical novels dealing with the underpinnings of economics, politics, and science? You can see where it could cause—confusion.
The Confusion had slipped past and avoided capture. It still had to be scented, tracked down, flushed from refuge, and bagged. My time was limited because my work hours were fast approaching. I had to think like the quarry if I was to net the book before I was chained to my workstation. Where would I hide if I were The Confusion? Where would I hide if I survived the first months in New Books? What bookshelf, what store would the wily tome use as its lair?
The overwhelming impression of Borders is one of an efficient vendor of merchandise using the latest technology to order, stock, and sell. The merchandise happens to be books but the store and the business practices could be applied to bagels, bandanas, or bongo drums. My experience in Borders left me without an emotional attachment to the bookstore or its people. Although I do appreciate its marked down products and its clean, spacious layout, it did not have a warm, personal feel. What do I mean by feel? How does one quantify a sensory impression? Is the way someone seeking books feels about a bookstore important? Yes. If a shopper enjoys the experience of finding what they want, he or she is apt to return for more shopping. But if buying becomes only a mechanical search for a product and the seller simply warehouses the items for the buyer to find and purchase, then the relationship and its rewards dwindle.
Rewards from a seller and buyer relationship are material and social. Materially, the seller benefits by creating a bookstore with staff making an effort to be helpful. Likewise, clerks with a little sales personality will go a long way to keeping a customer coming back even if a book is not there. Sometimes when tracking down a clever book, I have forgotten the hunt because I’d rather talk with the clerk or owner of the bookstore. However, the next time I look for a book it is in their store. This is where salesmanship comes into play. It is as simple as asking, “May I help you?”
Beyond the physical qualities of a bookstore, its architecture, the layout of its shelves, whether or not it has good coffee or scones, and its location, staff personalities influence the buyer. Sociability brings back book buyers. I think those stores that don't move thousands of books in a day nationwide focus more on the client than the book behemoths.
My most recent trip to Borders found not just the books exchanged, the entire store had moved to a grand location in a new shopping mall across the street. It is huge, imposing, and looks more like an upscale hotel than a bookstore. Parked in front of the main entrance is a brand new Lexus for some lucky winner. I am sure it has even more technology than the old Borders. None-the-less, I don’t shop there.
You notice my lack of objectivity. It is because I have experience and overwhelmingly find that independent bookstores are friendlier and more apt to go the extra mile to match book hunter with book.
After my visit to Borders, I called Powell's City of Books with my cell phone while walking to my car and asked for The Confusion. After a moment of silence, I asked if they had Neal Stephenson's book, The Confusion. (I usually don't spoil looking for a book by asking for information, but with work fast approaching, I had to find it.) I heard a rattling keyboard over the hiss of my less than perfect connection and a moment later the clerk told me there was one copy left at Powell’s Technical Bookstore. I was on the chase again and ran to my car, leaving the parking lot without running over pets, people, or causing property damage. Thirty minutes later, I was through the front door and at the Information Desk in the Technical Bookstore on Portland’s North Park Blocks.
Did they have the book? The bookseller led me to the bookshelf, and then handed The Confusion to me right there. It was a signed, first edition hardcover in very fine condition. I paid the full price and felt lucky to have it in my bag. And so the hunt for The Confusion ended with a happy hunter and the quarry in hand.
Book hunting expeditions are not always successful, but bringing the game to ground does not involve bloodshed. Not yet anyway. There are times when transactions do not go well. Although bibliophilic people have a “gentle madness,” there are times when a book comes between buyer and seller. Miscommunications happen, the book is "lost" or misplaced during a renovation. Sometimes the book is there one minute and the next it mysteriously vanishes. This is a rare occurrence but it does happen. I could theorize about the wily characteristics of certain books but that is beyond the scope of this paper. It is possible some books are aided and abetted by booksellers. It is probable independent bookstores shelter quarry in odd places not realizing they are wanted. Booksellers are not without flaws. However, as you know by now, neither are book hunters.
