In the spirit of the New Year, I am hoping to share my wish list on how publishers’ marketing departments can help out independent bookstores more in 2014.
– Please do not send a box of 10 mini-book teaser chapters from a new book that has $2.80 of postage due. I got this package on Monday. I did not ask for this mailing. Some of you are probably saying, “Then why did you open it?” Honestly, when I shook the box it felt like there might be candy in it. Sadly there was no candy, just a small display.
– This brings up something that has always bothered me. Why can’t I sign up for the promo items I want? There are certain things I know I can never use. Yes, it is fun to have things to give away, but with very tight storage space, I reach a point of thinking: enough. Let me see what you have for the season and let me get the things I’m really excited about and can use.
– In-store displays that are too wide. Yes, I love Captain Underpants as much as every eight-year-old boy in the country, but a display that’s three to four feet wide is bordering on too big to fit. Don’t get me wrong, I loved this display, but it was hard to navigate around.
– This genius idea is from Elizabeth: create a digital poster template for promoting author events at the stores. This would be massively helpful for all stores on that author’s tour. Often, we (and by we I mean Elizabeth) create our own flyers and postcards, but boy, it would be great to have one that looks great and takes five minutes. Also, by making it digital, I can email it to libraries, schools and senior centers for them to print out and hang in their places. This would be a win-win for all of us.
– Raffia. There, I’ve said it. Please no more.
– Keep sending us so many amazingly talented authors and illustrators. Visits from these people enrich our town, enliven our schools and create wonder in children and adults alike.
– Send more event kits. They are great. Kids love the activity sheets and color pages, and I’m happy to make copies to save the expense. The beauty of this, then, is I can print out as many copies as I need. And they are great for kids to play with at the event when they’re waiting for a book to get signed.
– More posters and bookmarks for adult books, please. One of the hazards of being well-known for our children’s section is that folks forget we sell a ton of books for adults as well.
– Remember that there lots of truly amazing independent bookstores north of Boston.
– Send us a calendar, digital, printed or on-line, with upcoming release dates, so we can be better prepared to more knowledgeably sell your books. This was the very first thing Elizabeth suggested when I asked her about this. So simple and so easy, and unbelievably helpful.
– Keep sending those yummy galleys. Our galley bookcase is almost full to bursting and that’s how we like it.
– Another winning idea from Elizabeth. This seems fitting coming from her, since I don’t know what a widget is. Create and send us widget codes for your book trailers so we can use them on our website and Facebook. We all love interesting content for our websites, but not every store has a dedicated social media person. So, I’ll happily take as much help as I can get, because if it’s simple, chances are I’ll do it.
– Every once in a while send us some candy.

The life of a bookstore staffer is full of interactions with customers. We listen, we suggest, we share and often we get to hear, sometimes months later, an update on either the book suggestions or discussions we’ve had. This is one of the real advantages of working in a small town; people follow up. I had a lovely moment over the weekend. A mom came in and filled me on her 13-year-old daughter’s reading.
First, some background. In March of last year this mom came in with her three kids. Her middle daughter (the 13-year-old) had her head down and seemed a little dejected. The mom said in a whisper, that all could hear, “She’s not a reader, like her brother.” I took this in and said nothing. This kind of statement has always bothered me. First of all, everyone is a reader; as Elizabeth always says: “There’s no such thing a bad reader, they just haven’t found the right book.” I have taken this to heart.
Several weeks later the mom came in sans children and I took a chance. I asked about Taylor, the non-reader. Her mom practically cried about her frustrations with not getting her interested in any book no matter how hard she tried. I told Christy that to compare the kids to each other, especially when one child is having a harder time getting into reading, just sets her up for failure. (It’s amazing how many times a week, in bookstores all over the country parents set their kids up as readers and non-readers.) I asked what sorts of things her daughter was interested in: boys, math and her friends. I said with confidence as I handed her The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han, “Just leave this on the coffee table and say nothing.” In a house with all boys, I thought it this was a safe bet that the book would remain untouched except by Taylor.
This goes to rule number two: if a parents wants a child to read, then they should not push a book on the child. Let the child discover the book for herself. Book selection is critical to help a struggling reader. Sometimes, kids, like adults, get overwhelmed at the bookstore or library by the sheer number of choices available and just shut down. Plus, the repeated attempts to read recommended books that just aren’t engaging enough can discourage a kid.
I am thrilled to say that Christy came in and was practically bursting to tell me something: “She’s reading at breakfast now! There is always a book in her hands. Thank you.” We talked for a long time about Taylor and reading. By taking the pressure off FINDING SOMETHING TO READ, Taylor was free to relax about reading without someone checking in to see if she was reading. Also, hooking kids on a series is a great way to get them to keep reading because they’ve fallen in love with the characters and need to know what happens.
Here’s the beauty of reading: one good book experience begets another. Once someone realizes there are good books that appeal to them, they are much more likely to keep reading and try different things. All everyone needs is that first engaging book to get them started. For some of us that happens at six, for others 13. Taylor is now reading all kinds of books and loving them.
 

We love it when the bookstore is a destination for a special occasion. We’ve held private birthday parties here, and even were honored to host a wedding after hours. Even the smallest and simplest celebrations make our day.
Recently, a mom came in with her six-year-old son. “We’re having a date today,” she said, her arm around his shoulder, “and you should know that the bookstore is a special part of our date.” Awwwwww, I love that!
While the young man browsed among the chapter books, his mom mentioned quietly to us that he had done his hair specially for the occasion — normally a regular cut, today it poked up in a cute ridge from front to back like a stylish mohawk without the shaved sides. Soon, he found a Geronimo Stilton book he wanted, and several other books and toys he was hoping for. Since they were only buying one book that day, we set up a wish list for him (ahh, the wish list, that wonderful tool for defusing disappointment) and as they were leaving, the mom said, “We’ll see you on our next date!”
 

One of our booksellers, Darrilyn, was shelving Seamus Heaney’s version of Beowulf the other day when she held it up and said, “Poetry? Or Classics?” There ensued a brief, lively discussion; staffer Laura and I came down on the side of shelving it with the classics, where it usually lives, although of course an argument could be made for poetry. Neither is wrong; like many bookstore decisions, it’s booksellers’ choice, which mainly boils down to thinking about where customers are most likely to go looking for a title. “There’s a blog post for you,” Darrilyn said. “Where do we draw the line? What counts as a ‘classic?’ ”
This was a particularly relevant question, since we have been finding some odd things being shelved in our adult Classics section. We’re not sure how they are migrating over from Fiction. Kurt Vonnegut, for example. He’s a noteworthy author by any standard, but he shouldn’t be in Classics yet. P.G. Wodehouse often finds himself in the Classics case, as well, perhaps because he is inarguably delightful and the delicious matte hardcover editions we stock look and feel pleasingly classic. But does Wodehouse belong there? And if not, why not, exactly? Anthony Trollope lives in Classics, as does Twain, as does Aristophanes’ The Frogs, as do Shakespeare’s comedies, and so on, so the distinction is not about comic versus serious tone. Is Wodehouse simply too recently deceased (1975) to enter the canon fully as of yet?
Is one of the distinctions we make sheerly about literary prowess? If so, why do we have Twain and Dickens’ lighter fare and Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo in Classics, but keep Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca in Fiction? Is that an unconsciously sexist choice? Are we valuing du Maurier’s subject matter (gothic romance, ghost story) less than Dumas’ (betrayal, revenge, an epic potboiler) because she’s a woman? Some of our internal designations are hard to pin down; for something that we think of as nearly carved in stone, it’s a question that squirms around a little. What exactly IS a classic?
The dictionary defines a classic as a— just kidding! I couldn’t help invoking that stale staple opener of the high school essay. But it is worth noting that there is no hard-and-fast definition or rule about what qualifies a book to be a literary classic. It seems safe to say that, in order to reach “classic” status, a book needs to be widely considered — by thoughtful readers as well as the brightest intellects in the field — to be worthwhile, notable, extraordinary, a valuable addition to literature, resonant and striking to the mind (ideally also to the heart and spirit). A classic does not have to uplift the soul, but it must stretch, or deeply enrich, the human being. And it must endure the scrutiny of the ages. It must transcend its time. I believe all of this to be true for classic children’s books, as well.
The term “classic” is often used in relation to new books, and while those rare gems may certainly turn out to be classics, I don’t believe they have earned that august spot on the bookshelf just yet. To me, a book cannot be considered a classic before it has stood the test of generations of readers. Even Shakespeare’s plays wouldn’t have been “classics” while he was still alive.
Readers, what do you consider the salient determinant(s) of a classic children’s book? What makes a classic a classic, and when? And finally, which books published in our lifetime do you think will endure, to be considered classics in 50, 100, 400 years?

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I love that it can keep me connected to friends and family who live far away. I could do without the games, the quizzes, the ads, etc. But something happened to Facebook over the weekend that has been utterly delightful: a poetry explosion.
I have my friend Stephen Kiernan (author of one of my favorite books of last year: The Curiosity) to thank for alerting me to this. His post explained it all: Post a poem as your status update and then assign a poet for everyone who likes your update. I liked Stephen’s update and he assigned me William Stafford. I posted as my status Stafford’s poem Allegiances. Many of my friends, and surprisingly, friends who I don’t normally think of poetry lovers (some would actually put me in that camp), liked my update.
So, I spent much of Sunday evening trying to match my friends with poets I thought they would like or already love. It’s been really great fun to see all this poetry on Facebook. I’ve made the mistake of liking other posts, so now I’m in an infinite loop of liking and posting poetry. As the number of people posting grows, this is will expand over a large group of very disparate people and more and more people will be reading multiple poems a day.
And honestly, this can only be a good thing and a needed break from people posting about the weather.

Back in the early days of the bookstore in Charlotte, Vt., 16 and 17 years ago, we had a “swear jar.” Anytime someone said something off-color, especially that could be overheard by little ears, they had to put a quarter in the jar.
This system worked well for our customers who had a sense of fun and propriety. Sadly, I was often the largest contributor to the jar. It got to the point that some kids, or their parents, would just look at me and I’d pop a quarter or two in the jar, just in case. Now, 17 years later, the jar is long gone but it’s memory remains.
During the height of the holiday shopping season, Felicia flew in. She was one of the customers who was a regular visitor to the swear jar, back when her kids were two and four. I looked at her and knew she had a request that I would not be able to meet in the time she had allotted. Her daughter, Julia, now 19, was home for the holidays and was sick and she needed the “perfect book selected and wrapped” in less than two minutes. It seems Julia was in the car and feverish. I struggled briefly because everything I suggested Julia had already read or they had it at home. I politely suggested reading one of them. At the exact moment I lobbed a curse at Felicia’s indecision, her sick daughter walked in.
Julia heard me say a swear and turned to me and said, “We’ve got a jar for that at home.” I looked at her quizzically. She added that they had a “potty mouth jar” at their house that was modeled after our swear jar. The rules for their jar included anything that was base, not just curses.
I handed Julia a dollar to cover the rest of the day.

Sometimes, it’s helpful to see all cards from a six-year-old’s perspective. We sell lots and lots of cards. Elizabeth is responsible for our card selections and clearly she enjoys buying the cards from the New Yorker. These cards are, hands down, are our bestsellers.
These cards are just plain funny. Kids, usually 10 and up, often get the sometimes adult humor. Often though, the captions go right over kids’ heads, and honestly, that’s a good thing because let’s not try and explain one of my favorite cards: One headless praying mantis says to the other: “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
What I noticed at the end of the year was younger and younger kids were not only noticing the cards, but reading them. One kid, clearly no older than four or five, read the following card out loud: “Why, you’re right, tonight’s not reading night, tonight is sex night.” Of course it was the only time in the last week of December the store was actually quiet. Quiet enough that everyone heard this. I cannot say how many heads whipped around when they heard a child’s voice uttering these words. I explained what had happened, and the customers looked visibly calmer.
The last little one to have an encounter with the cards was a gregarious, chatty five-year-old girl who saw the card with a woman in bed with a snowman and the following caption: “You’ll be gone in the morning, like all the rest.” She just kept repeating the impracticality of this sleeping arrangement: “A snowman sleeping with a person. That’s just weird. Why would a snowman do that?”
We all stifled laughs at her disbelief. Needless to say, I spent the next quiet moment moving all the racier cards to the top shelves of the card spinner.
 
 

As the globe spins into its bazillionth year (number approximate; adjust according to preferred calendar), some human New Year’s Resolutions seem eternal: eat healthier foods, exercise more, cut out X bad habit, improve self in various Y ways, face Z fear / try Z activity for the first time, blah-de-blah. Sincere efforts, each and every year. Some of these mountains will be scaled; others are destined to languish in the to-do pile of good intentions.
Indie bookstores have similar eternal resolutions, some of which I’ll bet are universal among at least our smaller, less numerously staffed branches: be better at tracking and collecting co-op*, plan events farther ahead, be quicker and more merciless about returns, better balance publisher and distributor orders, organize the back room, take advantage of publisher specials in a timely fashion, stay on top of ARCs, implement new programs/outreach/internal systems we’ve been considering. In other words, cut out X bad habit, improve self in various Y ways, try Z activity for the first time. Rinse and repeat.
*  For the unanointed: co-op is credit publishers extend for promoting certain titles at stores. Since we at the Flying Pig don’t choose our featured titles based on co-op, keeping track of the titles we love that are eligible for co-op requires an extra layer of effort.
I’ve got my own personal bookseller set of resolutions. This year marks the first I’ve really needed to set the goal of reading more. Booksellers read all the time, it seems, and yet, as I’ve blogged about before, we are also not immune to the sirens of competing media. I don’t spend much time on Facebook, but I do spend a little most days. I don’t have a television, but I do have screens and monitors, and lately have spent a lot of time baking while (don’t lose all respect) watching series marathons. Last year, I went through The West Wing, 30 Rock, Parks and Rec, and MI-5 (which is sort of like a British The Wire meets The West Wing meets James Bond meets something else current and espionage-y I can’t think of. It’s fabulous.). These are all shows I have seen before, and while I am attending to the excellent writing within, this is precious time I want to spend reading. So this year, now, and especially once I’m done with my Buffy marathon (ahem) I will be diving into books the way I used to, when they were cable and Netflix all in one. This year, NetGalley will be my Netflix, dagnabit!
I’ve already started; I’m reading Suzanne Young’s The Treatment, the follow-up to The Program. Nothing like a good dystopia to start out the new year! And I’ve got a stack of books compiled thanks to you wonderful people who responded to my vacation reading blog. I’ll let you know how those go.
What are YOUR reading resolutions, peeps? Anyone trying to branch out into new genres? Anyone deciding to broaden their international reading? Or delve into unread classics? Or read everything New Directions has ever published? Those are four reading groups right there waiting to happen for me.
What readerly changes will you wreak in 2014?
 

The holiday crush has ended and I’m left with one resounding thought: this has been a good year for independent bookstores. I feel like we’re having a resurgence as the pendulum is swinging back towards all things local, and this means bookstores with real people who are passionate about books and can help customers find the best possible book.
I heard over and over again this season, “You really know your books.” This wasn’t just said to me but to all the staffers at the Flying Pig. I’m certain this refrain was heard across the land at just about every indie bookstore. You don’t go into the bookstore business to make money. You go into it because you love books. People flock to bookstores during Christmas and Hanukkah for a reason: books make great gifts. I might not remember what toy I got when I was 10, but I do remember getting and loving Julie of the Wolves and The Great Brain. Books create memories.
A woman was in the store on Christmas Eve looking at horse books for her granddaughter when she saw a Billy and Blaze book she had never seen before. She asked me if that was a new title and I said no. The book was propped on the shelf. She touched her heart and took a breath. “I loved these books when I was little. I still think about this one image of Billy and Blaze riding in a field. Just the other day I thought about that image.” I handed her the book. “Get it for your stocking.”
An hour later I was ringing her up. She has a large family and her stack of books was massive. Tucked in amid The Unwinding, The Goldfinch, and other yummy hardcovers was a slender paperback of Blaze Finds the Trail.  

This is why independent bookstore aren’t going anywhere. So, dear readers, enjoy your newfound treasure and may your hardest decision this coming week be: what should I read next?

Every small business owner in Vermont spent much of the weekend obsessively checking the weather forecast. It kept changing from hour to hour. The Saturday morning forecast made it seem like the weather wouldn’t be bad until later in the afternoon. We had our hopes set high that the worst of it would hold off until the end of the day, as it had the day before when the first round of doom and gloom weather reports started rolling in.
I am happy to report that ice did not get the best of us, though it did create challenges. One of the biggest challenges was staying ahead of the ice buildup in the parking lot and walkways without actually hurting ourselves, so our customers could shop safely. It was a busy weekend with the sand/salt bucket. And every time we thought we had a handle on it, things got slippery again, and again.
Customers streamed inside in packs when there were breaks in the weather. So the day went from slow to slamming busy, to slow again and repeated itself over and over throughout the day. Every customer volunteered new information about the state of the roads, which in typical Vermont fashion ranged from “they’re just fine” to “I’ve never seen it worse.”
Something happened that has never happened before. I was iced in and couldn’t make it to work, so I stayed home all cozy and worked on various projects around the house. It was bliss. The store was busy, but not so busy that I was missed. Customers were happy we were open and Elizabeth and our stalwart crew who don’t have hilly driveways were on hand and ready to help.
As I headed to work Monday, in the rain, again, I knew it might be another long day, but was immediately assured by the first customer that “the roads are fine, let the shopping begin!” And she amassed a massive stack to start the day off right.