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Anna Thorn |
Bookstore Vagabond Anna Thorn talks to stores about their experiences with the pandemic.
Two weeks ago, in what feels like a different time, I began calling bookstores across the country to ask how they were doing and how they were adapting to the coronavirus pendemic. Over the course of these last weeks, I witnessed their reaction shift rapidly from washing hands to closing doors.
Again and again, on phone calls and in newsletters, I heard expressions of the uncertainty and rapidity of the situation. Things were changing "minute by minute"; events were postponed "until further notice." Business owners, and everyone else, struggled to keep up with lists of responses to keep sales up and customers safe: first it was highlighting gift cards, memberships, online shopping, and direct-to-home shipping--and of course so much Purell.
When I called stores located in travel destinations on March 11, vacations that started before the coronavirus escalated hadn't ended yet. Many stores in these tourist-heavy areas told me that out-of-town visitors still accounted for many of their customers. The Booksmith in San Francisco said they were only slightly down in foot-traffic, but they didn't know what to expect once current vacations were over. Cheryl Pearl Sucher from McNally Jackson in Brooklyn, N.Y., said that despite the shock of Broadway and the Met closing, they too were still seeing plenty of tourists coming in. Overall traffic throughout the city was already down, however; as a commuter, Sucher reflected she had never seen Penn Station so empty and clean.
By March 12, Queen Anne Book Company in Seattle, Wash.--where the first case of coronavirus in the U.S. was found--had what became standard responses: they postponed events, established an 18-point checklist of places to sanitize at regular times throughout the day, and instituted a new home-delivery program. Wendee Wieking told me they had started delivering a little over a week before ("It feels like so long ago now!" she said), and it made customers "feel so appreciative, whether they need it or not. It gives them a sense of calm about coming into the store. And then also for those who really do need it, it's kind of a neighbor to neighbor gesture." Bookseller Camden Avery from The Booksmith also noted that free home delivery "to anyone who needs reading material" feels like a way to continue to connect with the community. While there can no longer be a sense of calm about a public gathering place, that sense of connection inherent in sharing a book is becoming more and more important.
Two weeks ago, event cancellations were just beginning. They rose to a flood on March 13 as limits on gatherings grew increasingly restrictive, primaries were postponed, and schools and stadiums closed. Today, most bookstores' events have been cancelled, creating a huge strain on both event managers and bank accounts. I spoke with Elaine Petrocelli of Book Passage in California about the financial difficulty of cancelling their extensive event calendar. She said, "we feel that in the big picture of what is going on, our own part is small. And yet, it's our passion." She was buoyed by local authors whose events were cancelled offering to come in to personalize their pre-sales; one came in just to shop at the store telling her, "I'm here to help, and all local authors should be doing the same." "There's a real community feeling of 'let's do what we can,' " she said.
Saturday, March 14, seemed to be the day many people realized they would be home for a long while and emerged from their houses for a "stock-up" phase. (As we know, reading material is essential for an apocalypse.) All the stores I spoke with told me customers were buying eight or nine titles at a time in preparation. Many saw their sales numbers jump for at least a couple of days. East City Bookshop in Washington, D.C., had a "very busy morning" on Saturday said bookseller Cecilia Cackley. There was big demand for activity books, books to read together as a family, and series to keep middle grade readers occupied; "instead of buying just the first book in the series, parents are buying the first three or four or five books." Other stores noted an increase in workbook sales to keep kids up to speed while they're out of the classroom. Cackley said it was "gratifying to see people come in and tell us that they're making an effort to shop local and that they know we're struggling."
On March 13, the first bookstore in my city, Washington, D.C., closed "out of an abundance of caution." It seemed quite cautious at the time, but within a few days many had followed suit. A week later, almost every store I spoke with has closed for browsing, by choice or by law. March 16 was a turning point. Many cities' restaurants and bars were ordered to close for dine-in service, San Francisco was the first to begin sheltering in place, and even the president was able to find some gravity. Announcements flooded in that stores were closed for browsing "until the end of the month," "until further notice," "indefinitely," or "for who knows how long."
We're all still dealing with the uncertainty and rapidity and immediate what?! of everything (I've rewritten and updated this article countless times; still, I'm worried that by the time it comes out a day later it will be out of date.) But already bookstores' responses to the pandemic are expanding. We're offering private appointments for browsing, streaming storytimes, over-the-phone recommendations, and curbside or home delivery; we're industriously tackling long-ignored projects, writing stirring articles, and, of course, doing what we do best and coming up with great lists of books for those who want to escape, or immerse themselves in, the unfolding drama.
Bookstores have had to be adaptable in the past, and we will certainly have to be adaptable now. There's no denying the gravity of the situation; grants and government action will be necessary to keep many afloat. It will be equally necessary to come together as an industry, from authors to publishers to bookstores to the ABA. While apprehensive, I'm also curious to see what we do as a group of very creative businesses to find ways to get books to those who need them and to sustain our bookstores while our communities are home staying safe.