Bricks and mortar

Bookstores are some of the best places in the universe, estimating conservatively.

First there is the smell: musty, secretive, and mysterious. A hint of dust, laden with the memories of childhood books. Then, the sights: gilt lettering on leather spines, well-loved titles, favorite authors, classics. Tall shelves march in endless stacks until all is dim-lit and indistinct. Sounds are hushed, save for the tinkling bell at the door whenever a new patron enters. Perhaps the friendly bookstore cat will rub up against your leg.

It is true the ebook revolution has done wonderful things for authors and readers. We have more selection and lower prices than ever before. Opportunities for new authors and new media are burgeoning. And that's a good thing. But bricks and mortar hold a secret not to be neglected or forgotten in this age of electrons - a secret held we are pushed toward by the nudging of a furry feline head-bump, by the faded lettering on a timeworn leather spine, and by the scent of old, old books.

That secret is connection. Connection between reader and author; between reader and reader;between reader and book-as-book. But those things need not be lost simply because of the ebook revolution. Though harder to find, their value has only increased. They are there to be found if your eyes are open.

Have you made a friend through ebooks? I have. And I'd love to hear about yours.

[Special thanks to A Softer World for the picture. Go. Read. Connect. They're great!]

Ebooks making Paperbacks more prompt?

This is something I've noticed a couple of times now, but it's not yet true for very many books at all.  And for every book that publishes before the year standard, there's another that takes more than a year.  I still think that it's an interesting trend, especially if ebooks are in fact the cause.  Also, the article quotes Seattle's own Peter Aaron of Elliott Bay Book Company, the only bookstore owner quoted, which is pretty cool.

Borders' Unfortunate Demise

I was going to use the word "sad" instead of "unfortunate," but I'm not actually very sad.  Borders was never a go-to store for me; briefly in the mid-90s I shopped in one branch for a while, but it did not impress me greatly, and I didn't ever go to it after it became more than a one block walk from my transfer spot in Downtown Seattle.  Still, it is unfortunate that a chain of 600 stores a year ago, employing 14000 or so people then, and still almost 11000 now, is going out of business.  Slate has a nice article that explains some of the major reasons why, although I think it's not comprehensive or anything.  Minor reasons are the need to pay sales tax (avoided by Amazon, and if you think it's not much, add 5-10% to all Amazon prices and then reassess); and becoming too similar to Barnes and Noble, their major competition, and thus losing much brand loyalty.  But maybe that last was just my observation.