If You Want My Business and You Want My Money, How About You Let It Show?
It’s been a crazy few weeks, with lots of good stuff, bad stuff, and holy mother of moly isn’t it summer YET stuff? But we are on the home stretch, people! And I’ll post one or two times more before taking a much-needed break from the internet.
So, I’ve been thinking about this post for a few weeks, and today’s blog over at Writer Unboxed made me decide to put it out there. (Go read it, btw, it’s an excellent, balanced view of the cranky pants contest Amazon and Hachette are having. Plus, Kevin Cronin always manages the snappy titles.)
Here goes: My son is nine and has turned into a reader, so my life’s work is complete. Books have lots of competition in his world — there’s soccer, baseball, throwing a random ball against the house, video games on the weekend, eating, teasing the Slobbering Beast — so I’m always trying to find books I can sneakily leave in the car that will suck him in during our morning commute. I found one such book recently, and oh joy of joys — it was a Series. With SIX books. Which, after he read the first one from the library and proclaimed it good, I immediately set out to purchase.
By immediately, I mean he said “Great book, Mom, thanks,” and by the time the car door closed behind him I was already ordering my personal assistant to call our local bookstore. I do enough business there that Siri has it on speed dial. They opened at 9 a.m., and at 9:15 I was chatting with the sales clerk.
Me: “Hi, I’d like to order the complete set of series X. I can’t remember the author’s name, but it begins with X, and there’s six books.
Clerk: “What’s the title again?”
Me: “It’s X. Author starts with X. It’s for middle school readers.”
Long pause. “I’m not familiar with it.”
Me: “Okay, but could you check? My son really likes it and I want to order the series.”
Longer pause. “I don’t see it on the computer. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, it just means I can’t find it here. I need more information. ”
Me (thinking loudly — no #$#$ it exists — my son just read one): “The title is X. The author’s name begins with X. There are six of them. It’s for middle school.”
“There’s too many authors that start with X. I can’t find it. Sorry.”
Now, maybe what she meant was that their distributor didn’t carry this particular book. Maybe she was having an off day and couldn’t be bothered to take my information, do some research, and call me back. Maybe a $50 sale in the grand scheme of things doesn’t mean that much to her store, or maybe she’s not personally invested in her store’s success, or maybe she doesn’t like middle school stories that start with X. But I have to tell you, as a reader who has spent plenty of time and money at that shop, I was pretty pissed off. And as an author, I was appalled. What if that had been my book? A single sale of $15 may not mean much to that store, but every single copy I sell means a great deal to my future as an author.
When I finished driving I pulled over, googled the book, and found the series on Amazon. It took me less than a minute.
I’m not the only one who has had this experience. Several friends, some authors, some not, have been kvetching about the quality of service at their local stores, how snobbery some are, how disinterested in their needs. I’m the first to say I’ve had great experiences and support from this store and others like it — but the taste I’m left with after this is a bit sour.
I support indie bookstores. But they need to do more than just tell me Amazon is killing their business and how unfair that is. They need to give me a reason to shop with them. Every single time. Because if they make it hard, it’s far, far too easy to go somewhere else.
So easy to say, “Let me look into it, and I’ll call you back.”
That was kind of my feeling, Norman. Don’t give me a reason to hang up — give me a reason to give you my money!
I found it with the scant (but useful) information, in one minute.
I had no luck finding it on Amazon, and my Google-fu is usually reasonable. That said, I hear you. I stopped going to indie bookstores years ago, except for second hand ones, because the few which exist in my town are remote, have no parking, and are snobs when it comes to romance. I can get wonderful recommendations from the city librarians and online friends, so I’ve never had trouble finding good books for my kids. (We have similar strategies in making reading pleasurable and easy.)
Which makes no sense to me. WHY not make it Christmas every time you visit, with an amazing experience? That’s how indie stores should be differentiating themselves from the internet. (And I love the recommendations from our librarians too.)