As we begin Fourth of July weekend, we are smack in the middle of Independents Week, the annual effort sponsored by the American Independent Business Alliance to showcase the importance of indies and buying local.
"According to our latest survey of AMIBA affiliate groups, 94% plan to participate in Indie Week 2011," Jennifer Rockne, the organization's director, told Bookselling This Week. She said the celebration is "such a positive and visible vehicle for bringing citizens in touch with local businesses [that] it’s been embraced as an event folks just mark on their calendar every year as routine."
AMIBA's effort is a timely reminder that independence is an ongoing campaign. Every day in this publication, we showcase the rewards and perils of living the independent life in our industry, not to mention our interdependence. "Independent" is a complicated word, even for word people. A good word, nonetheless.
And independence always has a price. Most of us are willing to pay it, even if--as inevitably happens when creativity, competition and money come together--there are occasional verbal fireworks, ignited by heated panel discussions at conferences or (less publicly but perhaps more importantly) in frank private conversations and negotiations every day.
I live on a hill above a beautiful valley in upstate New York. Each night during this Fourth of July weekend, I'll be treated to a light show above the treetops as fireworks are launched incessantly at official and unofficial gatherings. In backyards and on the streets, firecrackers will sound their celebratory rat-tat-tat, which still makes me jump.
I appreciate the "rockets red glare" heritage of this summer holiday tradition, however fuzzy the historical details may get. The thought has also kindled (note sneaky book biz reference) a memory of when I was a kid and fireworks were banned in the state where I lived. Sure there were sanctioned public events at fairgrounds or ballparks, but nothing ever compared to the thrill of lighting up a string of illicit firecrackers yourself, especially for a kid who wasn't even supposed to have matches in his possession.
How did we circumvent this prohibition? I learned early in life that there's often a solution if you adapt to your circumstances. We always had a few friends whose families made annual winter trips to Florida. There were wondrous states down south that sold fireworks legally, and we would give our buddies a shopping list. Come Fourth of July weekend, we were armed and dangerous (if only to ourselves). We were independent and dependent. Can't have one without the other.
I'm also thinking again of Henry Knox, as I do every Independence Day. In 1774, the Boston bookseller was facing a boycott on British goods (which comprised most his inventory). In the book Henry Knox: Visionary General of the American Revolution, Mark Puls writes that "despite the prospect of ruining his business, Knox spearheaded an 'anti-consumption' league to help enforce the boycott."
In November of that year, Knox wrote to Thomas Longman, his book distributor in London, and said he would be unable to pay for books he had in stock. Asking Longman to lobby for Colonial interests, he noted: "I cannot but hope every person who is concerned in American trade will most strenuously exert themselves, in their respective stations, for what so nearly concerns themselves."
During the winter of 1776, Knox executed one of the great military maneuvers of the Revolution. General Washington dispatched him to organize transport of more than 50 captured artillery pieces 300 miles over rough terrain, from forts on Lake Champlain to the heights overlooking Boston. His feat was accomplished against stern odds and became one of the turning points of the war.
I will never be a bookselling hero like Henry Knox. Paying another kid to smuggle fireworks north in 1963 just doesn’t make the grade. But to all of you who continue to find innovative ways of adapting (as well as being dependable allies of your fellow "independents") in a revolutionary time for books, I offer wishes for a happy and star-spangled Fourth. And remember, there are plenty of fireworks in those beach reads, too, if you pick the right books.--Robert Gray (column archives available at Fresh Eyes Now)