Rebecca Campana
Los Angeles Lit
Final Response II

From Music to Print Culture: how the Internet Swallows Local Business


After reading Ian Fowles’ paper, I could not help but project his concern for the disappearing music store onto a subject that is near and dear to my heart: print culture. Fowles makes an excellent point that the Darwin effect has caused the closure of many music stores, due to the increase in availability of downloadable music (Fowles, 2). The idea that our culture is already moving to the point where people prefer the quick convenience of downloading music through a few mouse-clicks, rather than opting for the community and inter-personal contact of an actual store is a frightening projection for the future of books, newspapers, magazines, and graphic novels.

When the Internet Attacks
I first noticed this trend when looking through my father’s old dissertation research library (which takes up one full wall of our den). For his writing on epistemology of religion, he had acquired over 37 different Bibles and just as many concordances, not to mention hundreds of volumes of other historical and analytical texts. I asked him one day why he bought so many of them, rather than renting from the library or making copies of certain chapters that he needed. He told me that many books were recommended or given to him by advisors, and were not available in local libraries. He also pointed out that none of his research material for his entire dissertation was available online, as the Internet did not exist yet.
I realized how spoiled I have become with the Internet these days; during religion courses, I used an online concordance that would look up any word or phase I needed with the simple click of a button. At CGU, some of my instructors conveniently place one or two chapters online for their classes that are accessible from any computer at any time. Coupling this with the fact that journals, newspapers, and magazines have searchable online databases led me to the startling revelation that there is barely a need to even enter a library anymore! 
With the internet’s many uses (gaming, networking, watching movies, etc.), children and teenagers are spending their free time online, rather than reading. In fact, reading has become something that is necessary only for school these days. With the institution of a required 15 minutes of Sustained Silent Reading per day in some southern California school districts, it is apparent that children are not receiving enough encouragement to read on their own time; the fact that schools have to take the time to actually require children to spend time reading means that there is not enough emphasis on teaching them to want to read on their own.
One market that has been practically obliterated by the internet is the sale and trading of rare or collectable books. In the past, one had to seek out a bookstore that featured the sale of rare books and hope that it carried the sought-after volume. Today, however, one must merely open a website like ebay.com, abebooks.com, or ugenie.com to search international buyers’ databases for a desired book. While this might be ideal for the avid collector, it removes the personal aspect from the equation; no longer must one interact with a local bookseller or speak with others who are also book-hunting.

The Changing Face of the Bookstore
In the past few years, Borders and Barnes & Noble have bought out many of the smaller, independently-owned bookstores. Waldenbooks, for example, bought by publicly-owned Borders Group Inc. in 1994, is still in the process of closing out or transferring ownership of most of their locations (WHECnews.com). In order to diversify and boost revenue, these companies have formed a business partnership with companies such as Seattle’s Best, Starbucks, and TMobile  to open cafes with wifi inside their stores. The offer of a good cup of coffee while one takes a working lunch or does homework with a group of friends is enticing to many different types of people. Often on weekends local jazz or classical groups will perform within the stores, which draw in another crowd of people. While these events might not be directly related to books or the printed word, they certainly attract money and visibility, which no shareholder will complain about.

The Little Bookstores that Could
    One of the oldest bookstores in the Los Angeles area is Books Inc., which was founded in 1851. Since that time, it has burned down twice, moved locations three times, and filed bankruptcy two times. After being forced to close ten of its twelve stores in 1997, its future was uncertain, but the owners made enough good investments to reopen nine more stores. Today, according to its website, “Books Inc. serves as a shining example that independent bookselling can survive and prosper, even if we must dance among the elephants” (Booksinc.net).
    Local Mrs. Nelson’s bookshop in La Verne, CA has also kept its head above water during the recent corporate takeover of most other stores. Mrs. Nelson’s has a unique strategy, however: it caters to school districts all over southern California by offering to hold children’s book fairs on their campuses as fundraisers. The hosting school receives 30% of the profits, and Mrs. Nelson’s representatives bring all the books, shelves, signage, equipment, and staff necessary to run the event. This is a benefit to local communities as well as to the schools and the bookstore itself.
    More well-known Vroman’s bookstores in Pasadena have also had takeover attempts by Barnes & Noble and Borders Group. It is a wonder, still, that these two locations in the same city are able to survive within walking distance of both a Barnes & Noble/Starbucks and a Borders store location. Again, the small-town appeal draws more business because of the promise of individual attention from an employee who has a passion for books, as well as a desire to help others discover an excitement about reading and learning.


If you can’t beat them…
One of my favorite childhood vacations was when my family drove up the coast of California to Oregon with the end goal of reaching Powell’s bookstore in Portland. Powells is one of the largest independently-owned bookstores left in the United States. It is a seven-story building, practically wallpapered with books, that has maintained its private, homey mood. Its quiet atmosphere appeals to visiting students and teachers, while the children’s wing has enough to entice even the most stubborn child to pick up a book.
While Powells draws travelers from all over the world, one main reason it has not closed its doors is because it offers incentives to Portland locals. One whole section of both website and store is dedicated to offering the work of local authors and musicians. The artists are invited to set up tables and sign copies of their work, and local buyers are given discounts in the stores. When a company invests directly in its own community, the community members will eagerly respond!
Powell’s has also managed to survive, despite attempted buyouts by larger public companies, in part because it has joined the Internet craze. Powells.com offers a searchable database of books that rivals those of Borders/Amazon and Barnes & Noble in its selection and promise of quick delivery. There is even an option for individuals to request a hard-to-find volume and a staff member will be in direct communication while attempting to locate it.
While the homey atmosphere and promise of individual attention might draw some customers away from larger chains, it is unlikely that many of these stores will survive much longer. With the ever-improving appeal of the internet, it seems much more likely that the independently-owned bookstores in Los Angeles will join ghostly ranks of other closed stores like Manhattan’s Murder Ink, Dallas’ Black Images Book Bazaar (the state’s oldest African-American bookstore), and Pella’s Main Street Books (punkplanet.com). As these local neighborhood landmarks go the way of the independent record stores described by Ian Fowles, Los Angeles will lose some true gems and historical locations that played a part in the original development of the city and its surrounding area.