Hope

My McNally Jackson coworker Cheryl Sucher (who's also a novelist and journalist) published a piece called "Glimmers of Hope" in a recent issue of Publishers Weekly. This holiday season was a very busy one at the SoHo bookshop, and Cheryl's article reveals a lot about why, and about what it takes to bring an independent bookstore into the 21st century. . Her last line is something to treasure:

"Holding our breath, we move forward into this holiday season, keeping our eyes on the glimmers of hope on the horizon."

James Glieck is right

Amid a certain amount of gloom in the book industry these days, I am grateful for the clear-headed optimism of New York Times op-ed writer James Glieck, in his article "How to Publish Without Perishing."
He talks about how despite technological advances (the Kindle) and shifts in paradigm (the Google copyright agreement), there's no need to worry about the longevity of the book. I strongly encourage you to read the entire piece, but here are my favorite bits:

"As a technology, the book is like a hammer. That is to say, it is perfect: a tool ideally suited to its task. Hammers can be tweaked and varied but will never go obsolete. Even when builders pound nails by the thousand with pneumatic nail guns, every household needs a hammer. Likewise, the bicycle is alive and well. It was invented in a world without automobiles, and for speed and range it was quickly surpassed by motorcycles and all kinds of powered scooters. But there is nothing quaint about bicycles. They outsell cars."

Book as hammer, book as bicycle. I like this metaphor: that which is useful and necessary and ubiquitous, even when there are more high-tech options out there.

Glieck is also surprisingly sanguine about the results of Google's agreement with the Authors Guild, despite being on the opposite side in the legal challenge. Google now has the right to digitize not only books in the public domain, but those protected by copyright but out of print. What does that mean?

"In bookstores, the trend for a decade or more has been toward shorter shelf life. Books have had to sell fast or move aside. Now even modest titles have been granted a gift of unlimited longevity.

What should an old-fashioned book publisher do with this gift? Forget about cost-cutting and the mass market. Don’t aim for instant blockbuster successes. You won’t win on quick distribution, and you won’t win on price. Cyberspace has that covered.

Go back to an old-fashioned idea: that a book, printed in ink on durable paper, acid-free for longevity, is a thing of beauty. Make it as well as you can. People want to cherish it."

I feel like someone just articulated what I've been saying all along. Here's hoping publishers, booksellers, and readers are listening.

Phone banking

Rebecca's post about the awesome wish list feature on IndieBound below is what I'd rather be thinking about now -- I spent a good portion of this morning blogging about it and other holiday independent bookstore shopping initiatives over at The Written Nerd.

This evening, though, I've been making phone calls to those wonderful folks who filled out a survey at our party, commented on our blog, or otherwise got in touch to let us know that they might be interested in investing in our bookstore. They've all received the cover letter in the post below, so I'm just calling to follow up on their expressed interest.

But it feels a lot like calling to ask people for money.

It also feels like the brief stint I did at the Obama campaign phone bank here in Brooklyn. We were working just before the election to make sure folks in battleground states had the information they needed to get to the polls. I was calling Florida voters to make sure that they know were their polling place was, that they had a ride, that they had a plan for voting. We'd been given lists of folks who had supposedly already expressed support for Obama, so we weren't trying to change any minds -- just providing information, and a reminder.

But that didn't mean it was easy calling strangers. And it didn't mean that we didn't get a range of responses -- from outrage at yet another campaign phone call, to indifference or apathy about voting, to lots and lots of answering machines. There was some profanity, on their part. There was some terror and guilt and frustration, on mine.


As with the phone banking, I don't know most of our potential investors personally. And I've already gotten a range of responses. I've gotten some wrong numbers. I've gotten some folks whose financial situation has changed, so they can't do what they thought they could. I've gotten some who don't seem to remember expressing interest, which is the most awkward of all. I've gotten some tough questions about our loan terms, and our plans overall.


As I checked out after my campaign phone banking shift, I told the campaign leader ruefully that I hadn't gotten a single "yes, I will be voting for Obama" call. But you left a lot of messages, she told me. And you provided the information that is going to help some people vote.

And then Obama won Florida.

I can't know whether my sixty-odd voicemails made any difference. But I like to think I was part of the rising tide.

The Fort Greene bookstore already has a handful of $1000 investors ready to sign their loan documents. And we've got a handful contemplating much larger amounts. And we've left a lot of voicemails. And there are a lot more phone numbers left to be called.

There are moments of terror and frustration, working on this kind of project. But oh, it's worth it, for those moments of satisfaction you can take to the bank.

I love this!

Okay so this post has nothing specifically to do with our bookstore plans, but still. It's kind of fantastic.

Books are a grrrreat gift

I love how on the indiebound site, you can create a book wishlist, then you can take it a step farther and create a list of independent bookstores that you like, to go along with your wishlist. Nothing is finer than having a book you crave bought for you by someone you like, at a store you love.

Investing in the Fort Greene bookstore!

This is an adapted version of the letter we've just sent out to everyone who has expressed interest in investing in the bookstore. You hate to send a form letter about something so personal as money, but we wanted to make sure everyone has the basic information before we talk to them by phone. And in case there's anyone out there who isn't on our list yet who might be interested -- or if you're just curious about how we're doing this financing thing -- I thought we might share the information with you too! Feel free to email us if you want more info.

Investing in the Fort Greene bookstore!

Now that the overwhelming excitement of election season is behind us at last, it's a great time to look toward the future! We'd like to take this moment to check in with you about our Fort Greene bookstore project.

In the past few weeks we have worked out the details on the financial side of things, so now it's time to ask everyone who expressed interest in investing in the bookstore to turn their support into a reality. We now have a working loan agreement and promissory note; you can email us if you'd like to see it. As we outlined in our initial pitch letter, the investment we're asking for is actually a loan, to be paid off in five years. The final payment date is tied to the opening date of the store. We have fixed the interest rate at 5.00%, one percent above the Wall Street Journal prime rate on November 2.

We realize the economic climate has changed quite a bit since our launch party. We're lucky that none of the startup capital we have was tied up in the stock market, so we are still in exactly the same financial position that we were in before the market started to flounder. If someone's financial circumstances have changed since they expressed interest, we completely understand. But we still have every confidence in our business plan and our ability to turn the bookstore into a reality. With the overwhelming support we've already seen from the Fort Greene community, we know that bringing a bookstore to this neighborhood is the right decision, and that we'll find a market here. Feel free to contact us if you have questions.

We feel that loaning your money to the bookstore is one of the wisest financial decisions you can make right now. It's effectively the same as putting your money into a CD – you will get back the principal and interest after a given time period, and there's no danger of fluctuation. Additionally, as a Founding Member of the bookstore, you'll get 20% off on bookstore purchases until your loan is paid off – and that's good for your bottom line!

We'll be in touch by phone with everyone we can during the month of November to check in and confirm. Feel free to contact us first – we can let you know the next step. For those who are able to finalize this loan by the end of the year, interest will begin to accrue January 1. If you can't make a financial commitment until after the new year, we can revisit things later.

Thank you again for your support for the future bookstore of Fort Greene – we look forward to speaking with you!

P.S. One thing you will notice on the loan document: the bookstore now has a name! Soon we won't be referring to it as the eponymous 'Fort Greene Bookstore' any longer. In the next week or two, we'll be sending out an email to our mailing list about the new name and what it means to us. Potential investors will be among the first to know, and you'll hear much more about it soon.

Brooklyn-Based Bookstore!

This morning I'm featured in a story called "Business Plan" in the fabulous thrice weekly newsletter/website Brooklyn Based, which highlights the best and most interesting stuff in our beloved borough. Aside from a typically squinty-looking picture of me (and a nice one of our home bookshelf, here), it's a cool little piece by Nina Pearlman that lets me talk about the process of getting to this point in the bookstore development process, offer some tips for fellow budding entrepreneurs, and give a shout to some of my favorite Brooklyn bookstores!

If you're finding this site through Brooklyn Based, welcome! If you're interested in knowing more, sign up for our email list at the top right. Rebecca and I are going to announce that long-awaited secret bookstore name to our mailing list in a matter of days. And if you're interested in finding out more about being one of our community lenders (honestly, it's one of the best investments you can make these days), you can email us directly here.

Bookstores in Bad Times

Note: At last weekend's meeting of the board of NAIBA (the regional booksellers's assocation of which I am an executive board member), secretary Eileen Dengler "comissioned" a piece for the upcoming NAIBA newsletter. This is something I've had on my mind lately, so it was a great motivation to write out my thoughts, and Eileen graciously agreed to let me cross-post it here. Your comments are most welcome.

Bookstores in Bad Times

At this particular moment, it’s a challenge to be an idealist and an optimist: two labels I’ve embraced as I’ve found my calling as an independent bookseller. Newspaper headlines, daily sales totals, and our own tightening belts tell us that things are tough, and getting tougher. As we head into the holiday season, where most of us make 40% of our yearly sales, it can seem logical to throw up our hands and wait for the apocalypse.

But booksellers are tough, and relish a challenge. And somehow I keep finding reasons to be optimistic.

For example: if our memories are long enough, we can remember that at least through August, US Census numbers (as reported in Shelf Awareness) showed that bookstore sales continued to rise month by month over last year’s numbers, even as retail sales overall were stagnant. That seems to suggest that bookstores may be more resilient than some other segments of the economy.

And economic hard times can actually be pretty good for purveyors of books. Sara Nelson of Publishers Weekly quoted Random House founder Bennett Cerf in her October 6 column: in his 1977 memoir, he asserted “The publishing business has always been rather stable. It doesn't soar when things are going crazy and people with a lot of money are spending it. . . By the same token, when everything goes to hell, books become one of the cheapest forms of pleasure.”

You’ve probably already heard the formulation “Books and Booze”: the two commodities that continue to sell when folks have little money to spend. The 15 or 25 dollars someone spends on a good book represents an investment in pleasure, entertainment, and escape that lasts a lot longer than a movie, and costs a lot less than an iPhone or a Blu-Ray player. (And if you’re selling wine or beer in your bookstore, you’re doubly insured.)

And we have the advantage of being on Main Street, not Wall Street. We’re not answerable to jittery stockholders who demand impossible quarterly growth; we are the ones we have invested in, and we’re in it for the long haul. I think more consumers are starting to understand the benefits of that. Now is the moment when the message of shopping locally to support your local economy is more resonant than ever. We have the marketing tools of IndieBound, as well as our own local first organizations and publicity efforts and personal relationships, to get that message across, and people are listening.

If we are heading into another depression – well, we’ve been here before. The publisher returns system was implemented during the Great Depression of the 1930s – so in a way, our industry has a safety valve built for just such an economic environment. As CEO Avin Domnitz of the American Booksellers Association reminded us in his open letter, now is the time to take advantage of that system, and make sure our inventory is serving us well.

Avin is a pragmatist, as are most booksellers, and I’m grateful to them for reminding me when it’s time to face hard facts. But to quote Avin himself, “Now is the time to look at your business carefully, to first identify trends, and, then, to find ways to enhance those that are positive and to soften those that are negative.”

To me, looking with all honesty at the reasons to be optimistic is one of the ways to enhance positive trends. While we work on controlling our inventory, payroll, and cash flow, we booksellers would all do well to remember the good stuff. It’s never a bad time to get inspired, to be hopeful, to remember what we have to offer, and what we have to rely on, even in tough times.

One of my fellow NAIBA board members passed along an article describing the economic downturn as an approaching storm. It’s scary, and it could get ugly.

But independent bookstores are a port in the storm. We sell a product that people can feel proud – and smart – to spend their money on. We create spaces that offer a welcome third place (and that doesn’t have a two-drink minimum). We offer human connection, and free conversation. We have “one of the cheapest forms of pleasure”, and one of the richest sources of community. We are what people are looking for.

So I’m still an optimist. And like all of us, I’m an idealist. We can and should be savvy business people (so we can keep doing what we’re doing), but we’re never going to make a massive fortune as independent booksellers, no matter how good or bad the economy gets. That's not why we do it. We do it because being an independent bookseller is one of the great good things one can do in the world. And our stores are islands of hope and perspective in scary times. We’ll be fine, because what we have to give is just what is needed now: Community. Ideas. Stories. Shelter from the storm.

Making appointments, making choices

For Rebecca and I, that's what being bookstore proprietors (or partners or LLC managers or principals or what have you) is all about these days.

Appointments with lawyers. Appointments with bankers. Appointments with potential investors. Appointments with building owners or development corporations or real estate agents.

And then the choices. Choosing whether this space is worth pursuing or too far off the beaten path. Choosing the language of a promissory note that will give the best benefits to both our community lenders and the business. Choosing the many, many details of the LLC operating agreement (from what we'll use for the address, to how we'll split equity, to who gets our shares if we die, to what kinds of decisions will be made individually or jointly, and on and on).

And before all that, choosing a name.

Those of you who know me know that I've struggled with choosing a bookstore name since I first conceived of the venture. I have lists of dozens, maybe hundreds of potential names and parts of names, and I've fallen in love with one or the other at various times. But I wasn't sure enough to put any of them on legal stationary -- I thought maybe I needed to wait until I saw the space the bookstore would be in, or some other moment of clarity.

When Rebecca and I started talking about partnership, I passed along my lists of names, but she wasn't in love with any of them either. We tossed around some ideas for coming up with a name: something based on a book we both love, or some combination of our names; something alluding to the neighborhood, or something more universal. Nothing quite clicked.

Then, rather unexpectedly as it often does, a name presented itself. A friend might have mentioned it, then we heard the word again, then we started talking about why it might work.

Then it was time to put down a name for the LLC. And we realized we had already chosen.

No, I'm not gonna tell you what it is just yet. We're saving that fun announcement for our first big email blast (sign up for the mailing list at the top right if you don't want to miss it!) Rebecca and I have joked that finding out we had the bookstore name is kind of like finding out that you're going to have a baby: you want to wait to be sure before you make it public.

Like all of our other choices, choosing a name seemed daunting until it came down to it. I think it arose organically from our partnership, and from our vision for the store -- as have all our decisions about corporate structure, spaces, finances. It takes some concentration to sit down and make the choice, but the tools and the seeds are there in our shared philosophy of the kind of bookstore we want to create.

Now we've just got to sit down in those appointments and put our choices on paper.

The Hunt Is On!

Now that the furious excitement surrounding the party and our partnership announcement is winding down, Priority Number One for the future bookstore of Fort Greene is finding the right space.

As we've told lots of people, we're going to be very picky. We need the right size (1500-2000 square feet or more), the right aesthetic, good walking traffic, sufficient time for buildout, a good layout and general vibe, and of course, an affordable rent. But we're willing to look at almost anything in the neighborhood that's available -- everything we see gives us a better perspective and a sense of context for what's out there.

Rebecca and I are currently following up on every real estate lead available. As with finding an apartment, commercial real estate in New York is all about word of mouth and relationships, and we're grateful to those who have given us leads or are doing research on our behalf.

And it's great to have a partner to share the site-seeing responsibility with! Sometimes we'll look together, sometimes separately, and debriefings are frequent. It's really good to have a second opinion and another skilled bookseller's eye to look at these things -- yet another reason I'm thrilled about our partnership.

At the same time, we're also on the hunt for those who will leap into action once we do find a space: the architects, the designers, the general contractors, etc. We've got some wonderful leads on that as well.

So hey, if you've got any information, feel free to send it our way! You can send email to our new address, fortgreenebookstore@gmail.com.

We'll keep you posted on the hunt!

The Bluebird, the Rose, and now...the Bookseller(s)

A few years ago, I attended an event honoring Russell Banks as the New York State author, and Billy Collins as the New York State poet. In Russell Banks' remarks, he said that he felt a bit like a bluebird or a rose, because the bluebird is the state bird and the rose is the state flower, and he was being named the state author. He paused, then said 'And I think that bodes well for our breed'.

I always remember this story with fondness, and I've dwelled on it a lot these past few days. Booksellers are a certain 'breed' of people, born to do it, who take naturally to it. I have spent years in books (15!!!); both as a bookseller in stores, and in my current job as a sales rep for a publisher (which, to answer the question before -or as- it's asked...I am totally keeping!). I can't imagine doing anything else, really.

I found a kindred spirit in that sense. Jessica was born to be a bookseller too, and when I realized that, it made me want to talk to her about a partnership.

So. The 'Jessica and Rebecca' backstory is:

One night I overheard her talking about the bookstore project at an author dinner (quick plug - the dinner was for Michael Greenberg and his wonderful book Hurry Down Sunshine, published by Other Press. It's a literary memoir...so good! Beautifully written! Not always an easy read, but such an important one).

It was a magical night. The setting, the people, the book, the author, the conversation, even the weather agreed with us. And as I thought back on the evening after I got home, I recalled Jessica's passion for her project, and I recalled the kindred feeling I got listening to her.

And I thought to myself, it can't hurt to talk to her, right? I've always been too chicken to go the bookstore route on my own but the thought of partnering with THE RIGHT PERSON was truly appealing. So talk we did. We set up a coffee date, and another, then another. We continued to talk more and share more, and inch closer and closer to our big decision, which we just made a few weeks ago, in perfect timing for the party.

And WOAH. What a fantastic party that was. Talking about it with people over the past few days, I am hearing things like 'The community support for this is amazing. I have never seen anything like it'. And another person will chime in and say 'Me neither'. Or, 'Hearing all this just gave me shivers'.

Ooh! And someone just emailed me and said (after reading the NYT piece) 'WOW--that story just brought tears to my eyes!'

So, kudos to the amazing community of people in Fort Greene, who rallied together for a bookstore. I am in awe of you and am so glad, and excited, to be a part of this.

The New York Times, and party pics!

The lovely Susan Dominus of the New York Times city section has posted a great article about the FGIBI bookstore party, and my quest, here:

"A Woman Dreams of Opening a Bookstore, and Defying the Trends"

I'll admit it's made me a bit useless at work: look everyone, I'm in the Times! I promise I'll chill out about it in a day or two, but it's not every day this happens to a book nerd...

The picture from the Times is great, since it includes so many of the people who have supported this project: Sharon from the FGIBI is the one I'm hugging, and behind us are Rebecca (of course), Toby from Three Lives, Sean from Parson Weems, Christine and Vinnie from Word, Hillary from the FGIBI, and Stewart from good ol' McNally Jackson.

And there are more pictures of the party now online! Rebecca's friend, the author Jami Attenberg, has posted a whole slew of them here on Flickr. Lots of my favorite people are in those pictures, as well as lots of wonderful local book people I don't know yet -- check it out!

More to come, I'm sure. This week and next week we're doing our best to contact everyone who expressed their support in writing through the survey -- so expect to hear from us soon if you haven't already.

And THANK YOU all so much again!

Just the numbers...

I'm still afterglowing from last night's party. I'll hopefully have pictures and a full recap later this week, but here's the event by the numbers.

312: number of attendees that packed into the BAM Harvey Theater

3: number of award-winning Fort Greene authors in attendance (Jhumpa, Jennifer, and Colson all showed)

2: number of local politicians who shook my hand (Tish James and Velmenette Montgomery, woo hoo!)

2: number of local rock stars in attendance (Johnny Temple of Girls Vs. Boys and Craig Finn of The Hold Steady)

7500: dollars in small business loans offered verbally on the spot

250: amount of a donation check handed to me, no strings attached (from Chris Kerr of Parson Weems: you rock!)

as yet uncounted: number of surveys in the giant box, waiting to be counted and tallied for more offers of help

1: fabulous new business partner revealed: Rebecca Fitting, Random House sales rep! This is the one I've been telling you about -- we've been talking all summer, and we're out, we're ready, we're hitting the ground running. Rebecca will be blogging here herself later this week, so I'll let her tell you her side of the story. But we're so excited to be in it together.

8: number of members of the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative, who deserve all the credit for the event (Mike, Steve, Jon, Carolyn, Sharon, Tom, Hillary, Susanna, hooray!)

4: number of photographers telling Rebeecca and I and the FGIBI to "look here, just one more" -- could we feel any more like rock stars?

1: New York Times reporter who's writing about the event for the Friday Metro section

0: bites of food consumed by Rebecca and I during the evening (it was like a wedding, too much glad talking to eat)

dozens: number of book people discovered after-partying afterward at Moe's bar in Fort Greene

infinite: measurement of the love, joy, and goodwill from assembled booklovers; also the measure of thanks due to the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative for pulling this all together; also the measurement of our hopes for the future

Thank you all so much -- we'll keep you posted!

Today's the day!

... and I'm just trying to keep my head from exploding from anxiety, trying to remember everything, and complete and total joy.

Tonight's bookstore kickoff party at the BAM Harvey is going to be so off the hook (if I'm allowed to use that phrase as a card-carrying nerd). Food. Booze. Raw, sexy space. Colson Whitehead. Jennifer Egan. Kate Christensen. (Maybe) Jhumpa Lahiri. Fort Greeners. Book industry bigwigs. Friends. Loved ones. Supporters. Surveys to find out what YOU want from your bookstore.

And mad, mad media coverage. We've got Brooklyn 12, the Daily News, the Observer, New York Press, and yes, the New York Times herself coming to take photos and get the scoop. I am sure that I will look totally goofy; I hope they just listen to my words instead.

AND -- tonight is the night for a big announcement that will push the bookstore forward by a giant leap. I've hinted about it to some of you -- some of you know the secret -- and the rest of you will find out. This something (or someone?) is stone cold kick ass, and you're going to love love love.

Okay, I have to get back to work for a couple more hours before I start getting too excited and using more inappropriately street phrases. Can't wait to see you all tonight!

Tuesday's Bookstore Party: VENUE CHANGE!

Because of the overwhelming Fort Greene community response (i.e., we've had more RSVPs than the venue could handle), we've decided to change the location of Tuesday night's bookstore kickoff party to accomodate more people at the event.

The party will now take place in the lobby of the BAM Harvey Theater at 651 Fulton Street, between Ashland and Rockwell. (It's close to the DeKalb B/D/M/N/Q/R/W stop, or the Nevins Street 2/3/4/5. I recommend Google Maps or Hopstop.com for a map or further directions.)

The good news is, this means you can still RSVP! Just send an email to rsvp_fortgreeneindie@hotmail.com

The date and time of the party stay the same at Tuesday, September 16 from 7-9pm. Colson Whitehead will read one of his latest pieces at the party, and Jennifer Egan and Kate Christensen will be in attendance, as well as movers and shakers from the book industry and the Fort Greene community. And we've got the greenlight to make a really big announcement that brings the store closer to reality than ever!

BAM (the Brooklyn Academy of Music) is a neighborhood and a city institution, and the Harvey lobby is a big beautiful space -- I'm so excited to be there! So adjust your travel accordingly, and feel free to bring friends and loved ones. See you at a fabulous party on Tuesday night!

More press, and a little about being indie

More press today for the bookstore, the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative, and the party. Joyce Shelby of the New York Daily News wrote this great piece:

"Ft. Greene booklovers court indie bookstore with soiree, readings"

I like the quote she picked from me:

"The level of support expressed by this community, before the store has even opened, is completely unique in my experience in the book industry," Stockton Bagnulo said.

And the one from my co-conspirator Mike Gross is great too:

"We're very excited about an independent bookstore, locally owned, that can be flexible and responsive to the needs of the community," said Mike Gross. He's co-chairman of the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative.

And I love the word soiree...


Additionally, the New York real estate blog The Real Deal has this post:

"Fort Greene wants new independent bookstore"

I'm grateful for their notice. But I do find it odd that they have the words "independent bookstore" link to a two-year-old article by Tyler Cowen in Slate about the "death of independent bookstores." Not only is the piece out of date, it kind of misses the point. I commented on the piece at the time on my Written Nerd blog; you can see my post here:

"Books, Blogs, and Anti-Indie Backlash"

The point of my post is that Cowen and others who have said snarky things about indie bookstores are right in one sense: being an independent doesn't make you a great bookstore, and there's no reason to look down on book lovers who don't have the option of shopping local. But I think independent bookstores have the potential to offer more than any chain bookstore or online option could ever give: community, culture, real live interactions with authors, the serendipitous discovery of a book you love at the suggestion of a knowledgeable bookseller, a distinctive and appealing space for browsing. And I think there is an ethical component to how we spend our dollars: when you support local business, local business thrives, making your neighborhood a unique place and putting more money back into local economies.

So I'm not too worried about Slate's doubtfulness. The readers of Fort Greene seem to know what they want, and what they want is an indie bookstore!

Catching up with Stimulating Reading

Back at the beginning of the summer I launched another branch of the bookstore fundraising efforts: a project called Stimulating Reading. The idea was that folks could donate their "Stimulus Tax" payment to the bookstore finances, as a way to really stimulate the economy (by opening a new business) and get something back, too. With the help of some designy, techie, and writerly friends, I set up the Stimulating Reading site, where you could choose from an array of rewards, NPR style, for your donations.

Several enthusiastic folks were game, and threw in anywhere from 50 bucks to their entire stimulus check. Their donations didn't reach the critical mass needed to sign a lease or buy inventory, but they did wonders for my morale, and helped that total tick ever higher. I'm inspired by those who gave. My grateful thanks to Andy, Jon, Carl, Brian and Marcela for your generosity and vision.

I knew those stimulus checks were trickling in over the course of the summer, so I've held off on sending folks their rewards in hopes that I could send everything at once. But now I'm ashamed that it's been so long -- those who have had faith in me deserve to see it rewarded. I'm sorting out the list today of who is owed t-shirts, bags, gift cards, signed first editions, etc., and I'll be mailing them out as soon as possible. My apol0gies to those of you who thought I might have scammed you (or that I'm just hopelessly forgetful) -- your rewards are on the way!

That doesn't mean it's too late to jump on the bandwagon, though. Stimulating Reading is still open for business, and now that I've got a system going there should be a smaller delay in you getting what's coming to you. Check out the site for an explanation of the idea and a list of the rewards. And consider doing some "stimulating" of your own!

Talk Talk Talk

I've realized that a big part of getting this bookstore going is just talking about it to everyone I know.

Talking to other bookstore owners about their experiences, their mistakes, their systems, their advice.

Talking to friends and colleagues about my dream bookstore, about all the possibilities as I figured out my plan.

Talking to industry people to find out what resources are available, what they know that might help, and how they might want to get involved.

Talking as per usual about the bookstore at a dinner party is what got me connected with my potential business partner (in our minds, it's official, but still potential in terms of signing papers, since there's some other stuff that has to be cleared up first -- don't worry, we'll tell you as soon as we can).

Talking was what got me connected with the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Alliance -- emailing, meeting, figuring out that we were the right fit.

And now I'm talking to everyone I know about the awesome party the FGIBI and I will be throwing on September 16.

It can be a bit hard to talk about: it's not exactly a grand opening, not exactly a fundraiser (though we're hoping it will inspire some folks to invest)... more like a rally, to get community folks linked in to this project, and tap into their knowledge about contractors, space, funding, and most of all, their own desires and shopping habits to make the bookstore fit the neighborhood.

I have gotten the chance to talk to some awesome folks who are excited to support:

Kate Christensen, Greenpoint-based, Pen Faulkner award winning author, and one of my favorites (In the Drink! The Epicure's Lament! The Great Man!), who has become a friend and supporter of the store, and promised to come to the party even though she's not a huge party person;

good friends like Toby Cox, who owns the first bookstore I ever worked in (the jewel-like Three Lives & Co. in the West Village) and is the first person I ever knew who lived in Fort Greene;

Eve Havliceck, the gracious owner of the condo-under-construction building and gorgeous, twenty-years-in-the-making landscaped back garden, where the party will be held (pics here on Brownstoner); she's offering her space for free, just because she'd like to see a bookstore in the neighborhood;

Jennifer Egan, another luminary Fort Greene based author (Look At Me, The Keep) who will grace us with her presence also despite a packed schedule;

Rebecca Fitting, our incomparable Random House sales rep, who's managed to finagle some pre-publication copies of Colson Whitehead's new book Sag Harbor for raffle prizes and is helping in myriad other ways;

Edwin Frank, editor of the New York Review of Books, who lives right next door to the party location; he's unfortunately out of town on party night, but is passing the invite along to friends and family and excited to support the bookstore;

Brigid Hughes, editor-in-chief of the fantastic literary magazine A Public Space, also an FG resident, who's hosted some great events and McNally, and will be attending;

Richard Nash, Brooklyn publisher of Soft Skull Press, who's excited to come and donating some signed books by local author and politico Kevin Powell;

Matt Weiland, Clinton Hill resident and Paris Review deputy editor, who's out of town touring with his new book State by State but will pass the invite on to his many literati friends, and is also full of suggestions for bookstore names after writing an introduction to the reissued Names on the Land;

Colson Whitehead, a brilliant author (The Intuitionist, John Henry Days, etc.), Fort Greene resident, and genius deconstructor of the Brooklyn literary mythos), who will class up the party by giving a brief reading;

... and so many more, and that's not to mention the FGIBI committee folks -- Mike, Jon, Steve, Carolyn, Sharon, Hillary, Susanna, and Tom, whom I talk to at least once a week (often much more) as we plan to make this happen. Fort Greene residents all, their dedication to this project (which is strictly volunteer) is inspiring, and I'm learning a lot from them.

Blogging is just another way of talking, for me -- it's why I started the first one, because I needed to talk about books and bookstores to more people. One recent article about me mentioned that I've "been very public about my plans," and I have to admit sometimes that makes me nervous -- what if someone misconstrues something I've said, or takes my ideas to use against me?

But at the risk of sounding a little mystical, I think we create the world we live in: you talk about something enough, it becomes so. That's not really magic -- talking just means that the idea gets planted in more heads, more connections get made, more possibilities open up. I plan to keep doing it, until the bookstore's open and much beyong -- talking to the community, after all, is what will keep us connected and vibrant.

Talk, after all, is just made of words. And words are what bookstores are built on.

Catching Up: Read all about it!

It is officially the end of my "fallow time" of rest and reflection, and I'm excited to jump back into the Brooklyn bookstore quest. Despite the break, lots has happened this month -- most importantly, the announcement of the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative's fabulous party on September 16!

The awesome Fort Greene volunteers and I have been doing a lot of work behind the scenes, and the work goes on: inviting authors, finding donations of food, drink, supplies, etc., and getting the word out. And I've gotten to do a number of cool interviews in the last couple of days with local papers who are understandably interested in this unique project. So I'll let those reporters (and bloggers) tell the story. Here's some of the press we've been getting, with my favorite quote from each piece. (I updated this list on Monday 9/8...)

Bookselling This Week: "Neighborhood Organizes to Help Make Bookstore a Reality"
"The Fort Greene Association is working with Stockton Bagnulo to help make her bookstore a reality. The group has created a flier announcing the Fort Greene Bookstore Initiative as well as a Bookstore Kickoff Party scheduled for September 16."

The Brooklyn Eagle: "Fort Greene Drafts ‘Book Nerd’ To Open Indie Store"
"Jessica Stockton Bagnulo is a woman who knows what she wants.... Now, residents of Fort Greene have essentially drafted her to open a bookstore for them and are throwing their full weight behind her dream."

The Brooklyn Paper: "Granted, she vows to open a bookstore"
"The winner of $15,000 grant to open a bookstore in Fort Greene says she is confident she can break the spine on her shop next year — and is hoping a “Bookstore Kickoff Party” can help her find more investors and get some juicy real estate tips."

ClintonHillBlog: "Fort Greene: Moving Towards a Bookstore"
"I heard about the potential plans to open a bookstore in the ‘hood months ago. Now, a local advocacy group is working with BK Library Power Up winner Jennifer Stockton Bagnulo to make this happen here!"

Gowanus Lounge: "Fort Greene Working to Get an Indie Bookstore"
"It seems like a statement of incredible optimism these days that a neighborhood would be working to get an indie bookstore... yet that’s exactly what Fort Greene is doing."

The New York Observer: "Hello, Brooklyn Literary 100! Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative Announces Launch Party"
"Jessica Stockton-Bagnulo, the events coordinator at the Nolita bookstore McNally Jackson, has been public about her intention to open a new independent bookstore in Brooklyn since at least January, when she won a $15,000 grant for the project from the Brooklyn Public Library. Since then, she seems to have zeroed in on Fort Greene as her neighborhood of choice, and the Fort Greene Association, which administered a survey to 380 locals and found that 74% of them wanted a bookstore in the neighborhood, is trying to help her make it happen."

Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn: "Ft. Greene Wants An Indie Bookstore And They're Doing Something About It"
"It's a movement. Not only do Brooklynites organize to protect and support a beloved literary institution but they also organize to make a new one happen!"

Racked New York: "Fort Greene Needs a Bookstore"
"Fort Greene is so DIY and literary!"

The Real Fort Greene: "Is a bookstore finally on the way?"
"It looks like eager neighborhood residents have recruited a self-described “book nerd” to open up a store. Now all Jessica Stockton Bagnulo needs is a location and capital."

Shelf Awareness: "Notes: Surviving and Thriving in a Difficult Economy"
"The result: with the support of the Initiative, Bagnulo, who is events and publicity coordinator at McNally Jackson Books in New York City and a graphic novel columnist for Shelf Awareness, plans to open a store in Fort Greene."


And there's more to come, from the Daily News, the Observer, and others. If you haven't yet, RSVP by email to get the scoop on the party night, or email me here if you want to know more.

I'll be updating you on what I've been doing to prepare on Monday. Have a great weekend!

Party Time!

I'm still trying to maintain my fallow time / industry-standard hiatus / enforced recharging until the end of August. But I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this unique and exciting joint venture with the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Initiative! Here's the beautifully designed invitation -- for you!



The Fort Greene community feels so strongly that they need a bookstore in their neighborhood that they are supporting me in my efforts to create one, and throwing a party to rally community support and resources. This level of commitment to a local bookstore before it has even opened is unique, I believe, in the contemporary book industry, and reinforces my love for Brooklyn as a place where community is a powerful force.

Feel free to contact me if you have questions or would like to know more about this project. As September begins, I'll be writing more about the Fort Greene Indie Bookstore Committee, our partnership and planning process, our goals, and the fabulous writers we have lined up for this event (sneak preview: the Fort Greene-based authors of The Intuitionist and The Keep will both be in attendance!) And I'll be keeping you posted on the process of finding a space, securing funding, and all of the ins and outs of opening an independent bookstore in Brooklyn.

For now, I hope you'll RSVP via email for September 16 as early as possible, to show your support for local business and for books. See you there!

A Fallow Time

I've been thinking a lot about plant metaphors lately. The connection of books and trees, the connection of being grounded and bearing fruit, the need for light and water, the tree inherent in a seed. And the phrase that comes to me for the month of August is an old one: lying fallow. In a time before industrialized agriculture, farmers would give alternating fields a break from crops every couple of years: a chance to build up nutrients again, to rest from producing so as to produce more abundantly later. It's the same idea behind the weekend, or summer vacation.

I've been talking lately to a potential partner for the bookstore, and after a period of feeling out each other's goals and intentions, I think we've both gotten pretty excited about the possibility of working together. But we've agreed to wait until September to make a final decision about whether we want to do it. She has some practical things to work out on her end; I have some internal wrestling with my own expectations that I need to do.

So I have the month of August for a fallow time. I don't have any other deadlines as far as working on the bookstore is concerned; some efforts are going forward with the FGA, and I'm always keeping my ears open, but there's nothing I need to do in my free time. I've announced a hiatus on my other blog, and aside from some social gatherings, I have no other obligations.

I'm grateful for this month. I intend to spend time in the park and in my backyard, to love on my husband a lot, to cook and bake as I often don't have time to do, and just generally to breathe and rest. I'll be building up my internal resources for September, when the work will start again.

I'll be taking a break from this blog as well, to make the rest more complete. Check back in September for the new beginnings; for now, I hope you're enjoying some productive rest as well.

Like Money in the Bank: Other People's Mistakes

The ABA's publication Bookselling This Week has a fantastic article in this week's issue:

If I Only Knew Then... What Not to Do When Opening a Bookstore

Here are some highlights:

1) Don't be undercapitalized.
Check. My business plan requires more capital than I think I'll actually need at first -- one of the reasons why I haven't jumped in the water yet.

2) Take your time.
Several booksellers said they wish they would have not rushed to be open before Christmas, or waited to find a better location. Better to do it right than to do it right now. Got it.

3) Don't expect that everything will be perfect on the first day.
As you learn your customers and your own systems, things will adapt and change. This is one I've struggled with, but it makes so much sense!

4) If you have a business partner, put everything in writing and make it legally binding.
Sad stories of broken friendships and financial disaster result if you don't. This one is definitely on my mind.

5) Don't think you need to have everything.
Not ever book or section anyone recommends, not a ton of inventory to start with in any category. You'll fill things appropriately in as your store evolves. Good to keep in mind, especially as I'll be trying to save money during startup.

6) Don't forget publicity!
Not paid advertising, but press releases to local media, business cards (and gift certificates!) to local businesses, etc. Make sure by the time you open people already know you're there. I'm already working on that one.


There's more there -- it's a deep well when you go to smart booksellers for advice, especially when they had to learn the hard ways. I feel pretty comfortable with all of this advice, and I'll definitely be keeping it in mind. I'm sure I'll make my own mistakes, but it's great to avoid some of the worst!

Bookstore Design Dreams

While most of my time these days is spent in imagining financial scenarios, confabbing with lawyers and other experts, and fiddling with Excel spreadsheets, I was reminded last night (at an impromptu bar gathering that included a high percentage of bookselling types) that the fun part is imagining the store itself.

Those of us who have chosen to indulge our literary inclinations in the physical environment of the bookstore take our joy in the physical books, the shelves, the displays, and the other elements of the space, sometimes as much as in the words and ideas themselves.

My bookselling buddies and I discussed with relish some section division issues that are perhaps too wonky for even readers of this blog. But the other aspect I've been thinking about greedily lately is bookstore design. My dream is to find some experimental, idealistic, local (and affordable) designer to help me shape the vision for the bookstore's design. But here's some of what's already out there that I've been salivating over.

Boing Boing has a picture of a chair made of paperbacks, resident of the lucky Myopic Books in Providence, Rhode Island. More pictures at the Rag & Bone Blog.
I spent half a day at my job ogling photos of the Vintage Shelf (the image at the top here), which is such a witty design expression of my favorite paradox, traditional meets progressive, that it brings tears to my eyes. (You knew I was a nerd, right?) This would be so awesome for displaying special rare books or featured signed first editions; too bad it's not for sale in the U.S.

If you must deal with a two level store, why not do it with a book/stair-case? This seems like it would be awesome for a children's section. Or for my house someday, when everything is perfect.

As it turns out, lots of people are into this designer bookshelf thing. It's a simple functionality that lends itself to lots of expressions of creativity -- some more practical than others. The blog Bookshelf has tons of juicy pictures of creative bookshelf designs. Some make me roll my eyes as a bookseller -- designs that look like they would damage the books, or that books would fall off of, or that it's impossible to remove books from. But there are so many that I would be proud to display. The ones by Vincent Thomas Leman, which look like they popped out of Alice in Wonderland or maybe Naked Lunch, are laugh-out-loud delightful.


This is one of the ways that I think brick-and-mortar bookstores will continue to be viable in the future: by becoming retail spaces as showcases for design. On a panel last week for the NYU publishing program, I sat next to the brilliant Richard Nash, who quoted a study that had discovered that the less something feels like a selling space, the more selling gets done. Creating a space that evokes both comfort and desire -- which I know is what I feel when looking at these brilliant shelves -- makes folks want to be a part of it. And they become part of it by buying a book.

Who knows what the design of my store will look like? A lot depends on the space, the budget, and the intended demographic (which I have ideas about, but nothings certain until it's certain.) Whatever it is, I'm grateful for the designers who are inspiring me, and letting me think about the fun stuff.


What cool book-related designs have YOU come across lately? Comment or email me -- I'd love to share!

The joys of signed books

This weekend, I started to catalog my signed books.

As one of the incentives for higher-level donations on my Stimulating Reading campaign, I've promised a choice of signed first edition books from my collection. When you pitch in $600 or above, you not only get the t-shirt and discount card offered with other donations -- you also get to see the list, and pick your prize from amongst them.

I've discovered I have a lot more signed books than I remembered. For eight years of bookstore work, I've hoarded signed copies for lots of my favorite authors at readings, drop-by signings, and book parties. Many, I've discovered, are personalized to me (which I imagine will be of less interest to others, though they are still on the table as potential prizes). But some are pristine signed first editions.

One of the treasures of my collection is this one: the first U.S. edition of Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, signed by Susanna and dated "15th Sept. 2004". In later printings Bloomsbury changed the background color of the cover to black, and the color of the bird and text to white (which really makes no sense once you start to read the story of the Raven King). But that just means that this one is all the more precious. (I've also got a personalized ARC from Susanna, whom I interviewed for Publishers Weekly, but I imagine this one is the more valuable.)

As I moaned over some of the beauties in my collection this weekend, the ALP expressed surprise that I would offer to give away these books that are clearly important to me. But for folks willing to give their entire stimulus check to help my bookstore off the ground, I'm willing to give the best of what I've got to offer. I'm still cataloguing -- who knows what other treasures are hiding on the shelves?

Magic and the Money Thing

So I think it's time for a little background, as I'm working up to chronicling the current state of my bookstore efforts.

Most of the folks I know who have opened up independent bookstores in the last 10 years or so (it may have been different in, say, the 1970s), have had one of two things:

1) a mortgage
2) a well-off relative or friend.

These are traditional and time-honored means of securing capital for an independent business, especially one as high-risk as a bookstore (it also works with restaurants, bars, and other retail businesses).

I have neither of those things.

What I've got is starry eyes, a passion for bookselling, and eight years of experience, which I've purposefully used to the best of my ability to gain the skills I think I'll need to run a great store. And for a long time, I thought that this experience would attract to me the kind of investor who might stand in for a well-off relative, and be willing to put a big (really big) chunk of money into a startup business on the strength of my capabilities alone. I also expected this person to be satisfied with an eventual financial return and the good they were doing for the Brooklyn community, and not take any interest in the day-to-day operations of the business, which would be my domain. Especially after winning the PowerUp! competition, I was certain it was only a matter of time before someone stepped forward to help me take the next step.

The ALP calls this imaginary investor "the magical millionaire."

Clearly, they have not materialized.

This non-happening has, from time to time, made me a little depressed. Why, in a world where people are always investing in crazy ideas, couldn't just one person invest in my seemingly-crazy-but-actually-totally-solid idea? Why couldn't I just find a grant or even a low-interest loan or SOMETHING that would make it easy for me to make my vision happen? Why couldn't I just be born rich?

But when I stop saying "POOR ME!" and my thoughts clear, it's fairly obvious that I need to let go of the magical millionaire, and try something else.

That's where I am now.

Anyone who is going to put money into my bookstore is going to either want some control of/involvement in the business, or the fulfillable promise of a reasonable financial return. I need to figure out how I can give them what they want, while still getting what I want.

Instead of hoping for some goodwill angel investor type, I am now preparing to formally solicit investors (or lenders). The Fort Greene Association is willing to help to connect me with some likely folks. So I'm putting together a prospectus, including my business plan and investment terms. These will include options for loans, payable by promissory note, or equity investments, which will give investors a share (though never a majority share) of the business, and thus its profits.

I spent this morning with a super nice lawyer in Dyker Heights, talking about how to calculate what interest to offer on a loan like this, and how to figure out the value of the business in order to "sell" portions of it to an investor. It's all fascinating stuff, though I'm a bit slow at it (English major, you know -- this math stuff is not my forte. Though I did get an A in AP Calculus, so just skip the blonde jokes.)

In any case, what this means for the bookstore is that since I'm looking at a formal investment process -- or a longer-term negotiation over a partnership, which is another option -- the bookstore isn't likely to get built and open its doors by this fall. Instead, I'm looking at early spring. Give me a few months to connect with investors, a few months to find and build out the space. And even that is dependent on whether I can in fact find folks willing to plunk even small chunks of money into a business with the profit-to-startup costs ratio of a bookstore (and looking at it this morning, I realized it's not super pretty for several years.)



On the other hand, I've already had three good friends approach me, unsolicited, and tell me that they want to put a chunk of their money into the store. They told me to name the terms -- they just think the bookstore is a brilliant idea, and trust that I can make it happen. Their investments alone only get me a few more yards down the track toward my goal, but that's a lot further than I was before.

And a number of people have already "invested" in Stimulating Reading, plunking down your stimulus check in exchange for a t-shirt, a bag, or some swag from my personal library (and you will get it, I promise!) These are even smaller amounts, but they're basically donations, based on the strength of what Andy Laties calls "social capital" -- you all just think I can do it. I'm hoping there's even more out there, as the checks flow in and folks decide that making a bookstore happen is one way to really boost the economy.


So there's no magical millionaire. But there are already a bunch of ordinary folks willing to get in on my bookstore dream. And I think -- and the FGA thinks -- there will be more.

Instead of a wealthy individual, a rich community. That's pretty magical to me.

A Week's Worth of Pre-Business

And then she never blogged again. For like four days. Sorry about that -- sometimes so much is happening that you don't have time to record it. For example, here's this week in the life of a prospective bookseller.

Monday:
Talked by phone to JC, my contact at a local bank. He was a guest speaker at a business class I took through the Brooklyn Economic Development Corporation and emphasized the importance of building a relationship with a bank -- so when I was ready to put my grant money in a business account and start researching loans, I got in touch with him. He helped me open a money market account and has offered both enthusiasm and good advice as I'm working on the financial part of starting a bookstore (which is kind of the ONLY part I'm working on these days.)

I had taken home a small business loan application, intending to fill it in and turn it over to the bank along with my business plan, and I'd been pestering JC with questions via email for a week or so. He asked me to call him so he could share some of what he learned in asking questions of the bank's underwriters, so I did. And he shared the following rather discouraging items:

1) The bank won't want to give me a small business loan until I have a space secured. They'll want to know the specifics of rent, utilities, square footage, etc., rather than my estimates for the neighborhood and what I'm looking for.

2) The bank will want me to have twice what I'm asking for as a loan on hand in equity. (That means, if I'm asking for $100,000, I should have $200,000 in personal or investor equity.)

With $25,000 in the bank and no current prospects on a space, that means it's back to the drawing board. I spent a day and a half feeling weepy about this, but really it's a good thing to know how to prioritize. I need to focus on finding investors and finding a space -- the loan may be the last piece of the financial puzzle.

Later on Monday:
Emailed with Len and Sarah at the ABA about becoming a Prospective Bookseller Member of the American Booksellers Association. I've been using my boss's ABA username to access the resources on BookWeb, but I feel like it's time to get my own membership. I need to start asking questions of fellow booksellers in the forums, etc., and it's a little silly to keep having to explain that I'm not actually Sarah and I'm not actually asking on behalf of McNally Robinson.


Wednesday:
Had coffee with a friend in the publishing industry who had expressed interest in hearing about the progress of the store. Turns out she had something to share of her own: a nest egg, and a tentative proposal for working together. She's someone I like and respect a great deal, and I'm cautiously intrigued by the idea.

I've tried out and rejected the idea of a partnership several times, for reasons of personality conflict or idea conflict or mismatching expectations, and I'm not totally sure that I (as the bossy eldest child in my family, and as someone who's been processing this idea for years) am even capable of sharing this project with someone else. But another part of me thinks I might be foolish to continually insist that I have to do this on my own and in my own way, when if I can't come up with some capital I won't be doing it at all. Any investor is going to want some form of equity in the business -- I can't expect that someone will just hand me money and say "have fun" -- and it might be better to work with someone I know shares my values and my knowledge of the book industry, and who has a reasonable understanding of how we might split responsibilities, than with someone who just has money. And if this could work, it would certainly mean things could get going sooner rather than later.

For now, we agreed to "date" as potential partners, leaving all options open, and parted ways with a hug, both feeling a little giddy. An interesting morning, to be sure.


Thursday:
Had a breakfast meeting with another woman I'd love to work with, if the world was easier: this time a local resident who wants to support independent business in her neighborhood. We had talked some time ago about her proposal: that she might buy a building in the neighborhood to house the bookstore, with some kind of equity arrangement as the landlord, and charge below-market rent. In a city like New York where rising rent is the usual reason stores go out of business, this could be a major lifesaver for the bookstore! The problem, of course, is time as well as money: it takes a lot longer to buy a property than to sign a lease, and the idealistic local resident (shall we call her the ILR?) is an extremely busy person without a lot of time to run around looking at buildings. We also agreed to keep our options open: I'll look for great rental spaces and forward her any information on appropriate properties for sale. And we'll think about revisiting this idea in a few years, once the store has gotten started and I may be looking to move to a better space or settle in more firmly. In the meantime, she also gave me lots of good advice and encouragement -- it's good to have another supporter.


Friday (today):
I have a 3:00 conference call and a 7:30 dinner scheduled with my strongest local supporters: the Retail Committee of the Fort Greene Association. Around the time I was winning that business plan award, the FGA was conducting a survey of the residents of its neighborhood to find out what kinds of retail they wanted to bring to their neighborhood. The neighborhood is becoming more affluent, and the FGA wants to be proactive about bringing in the kinds of services residents really need, rather than watching as chain stores and nail salons take over all the retail properties.

Turns out that bookstore was the number one desired store, across all categories of income, race, gender, etc. The FGA had contacted some other local booksellers to see who might want to come to the neighborhood, but everyone had their hands full with their own stores and projects. Then they heard about my win in the Daily News and contacted me, and it was like love at first sight. Fort Greene was one of three neighborhoods I proposed in my plan as the most in need of AND the most able to support a bookstore, and really my favorite of them all. I'll probably write lots more about the neighborhood; I live just on the other side of Flatbush Avenue in Park Slope, but I'm becoming more and more enamored of Fort Greene as a place to set up shop.

(This is the risk of posting this publicly: please, if you're thinking of opening a bookstore yourself, don't steal this joy and head straight for Fort Greene. But I figure I've talked to enough people about this in person that the word is already out there, and I can't keep being vague about the community I'm working with. I'll just cross my fingers and trust in everyone's good faith -- or that no one else is crazy enough to want to do this.)

Anyway, the FGA is planning a sort of "coming out" party for me, to publicize the impending bookstore and, more importantly, to pitch the idea to some potential investors. The phone call and the meeting are about that. I'm still hoping to get advice from a small business lawyer on what investment terms should look like, and there are lots of details to plan. But these guys are great, and I'm grateful for their support and for their welcome into their community.


Okay, that's the week, give or take a few dozen details. I'm going to try to post more frequently and less at length, as time and developments allow. But you're mostly caught up now. Would love to hear your thoughts or comments. Have a good weekend!

Starting Out, Starting Up

I am a book nerd, and I'm opening a bookstore in Brooklyn.

Many of you know me as the author of The Written Nerd, where for nearly three years now I've been blogging about books I love, the bookstores I've worked in, the literary events I've participated in, and my conviction that independent bookstores are far from a dying breed: they're the future for those of us who care about community, sustainability, uniqueness, and literature itself. I've seen (and written about) lots of great bookstores that are making it work.

Those of you who have read TWN probably also know that my long-term dream has been to open a bookstore of my own in Brooklyn (obviously, it's right there in my profile). Ever since I realized that bookselling was my calling, I've been longing to be that lovely thing, a Proprietor: to have a space where I could implement all of my own ideas about what a great bookstore should be, and create a place where a community could gather. As that dream has developed, so has my love for my adopted hometown of Brooklyn, a real neighborhoody kind of place, and one that's home to lots and lots of writers and readers. There are a few good bookstores here, but not nearly enough for the vibrant literary community that already exists, and the beautiful neighborhoods lacking a place to come together over books.

Now, at last, after much naive posturing and endless speculating and moments of despair that it will ever happen, that dream is getting closer to reality.

Back in January I won a $15,000 grant from the Brooklyn Business Library for my bookstore business plan. That's maybe 1/20 or so of what I'll need to start up, but it's started the ball rolling. The bookstore doesn't have a name yet (more on that later), but it does have a lot of supporters in the borough as well as in the book industry, and out of that I'm hoping to leverage some investments, some customers, and a space to call my own. It's scarily open-ended -- I'm particularly scared today, which may be why I've finally started this new blog. I need somewhere to let it out, and I need to convince myself it's real.

Here at A Bookstore in Brooklyn, I'll be writing about the progress of my plans for the store. It's something I've been putting off doing for a long time, because I wasn't sure whether the "starting point" had actually arrived. For that reason, I have a lot of catching up to do, because things have actually been happening for some time. The future's far from certain, but I feel, in some way, successful already.

I promise I'll have more concrete stuff in the posts to come. But to make sure you get your literary quotient out of this bookseller's blog, let me close this opening post with a poem. It's one I discovered in a poetry course back in 1997, when I was a freshman at NYU, before my first bookstore job, long before I knew I'd dedicate my life to this career. Like most 19 year olds, I was fairly certain I was Destined For Great Things, and that as in a fairy tale, I'd receive help and instructions along the way. Surprisingly, that's turned out to be true -- if you believe, as I do, that being an independent bookseller is a Great Thing. Somehow the appeal of this poem has survived my youthful intimations of immortality, and has sustained me often as I've struggled to keep my hopes up about the road I've chosen. It's not quite logical, but somehow, it's true. Thanks to everyone who has given their benediction already -- you'll be hearing more.

You Know What I’m Saying?
by Irving Feldman

"I favor your enterprise," the soup ladle says
"And I regard you and your project with joy."

At Grand Forks where the road divides twice over,
the wet wooden squeegee handle poking out
of the bucket beside the red gas pump tells you,
"Whichever way – hey, for you they're all okay."

The stunted pine declares from someone's backyard
you happen to be passing, "I don't begrudge you
your good health. In fact, my blessing – you've got it, now."

An ironing board is irrepressible.
"Your success is far from certain, my friend,
and still it's vital to my happiness."

The yellow kernels in the dust, mere chickenfeed,
call out, "We salute you, and you can count on us."

We do not live in a world of things
but among benedictions given
and – do you know what I'm saying? – received.