A new arrival at Eureka Books: a four-DVD set of interviews with Humboldt’s Greatest Generation.
Last two days!
Nearly everything in the store is 25% off. That’s 25% off new books, used books, 2013 calendars, t-shirts, blank journals, greeting cards, maps, prints, and more. This is our way of saying thanks for supporting us for 25 years.
But also, to be honest, we want to get you back in the door if you haven’t seen us lately. While Eureka Books is still a great source for rare, out-of-print material, we also carry new releases and current bestsellers. If you don’t find what you’re looking for, we can (probably) order it, even if it’s out-of-print.
So come by in the next two days and take advantage of the sale. Drop your name in the hat* to win a $25 gift certificate (no purchase necessary). Spend 10 bucks and we’ll give you a coupon that’s good after the sale is over.
*Not an actual hat, but you get the idea.
Eureka Books is celebrating its 25th anniversary with a 25-day, 25% off storewide sale. Only our bargain books (most already marked down to $1) and a handful of other books are excluded. This sale covers new books, used books, rare books, and even special orders of new books.
And if you come by the shop, enter our weekly drawing for a $25 gift certificate (no purchase necessary).
Remember, the sale ends October 31, 2012.
On November 3, during Arts Alive! (6 to 9 p.m.), we’re celebrating the opening of Peggy Irvine’s new show of botanical watercolors and drawings.
As in past Novembers, we’re having an heirloom apple tasting, and this year Hospice of Humboldt is going to pour wine (donations accepted!). Drew Clendenden, of Clendenen’s Cider Works in Fortuna, David Hagemann from Rio Dell, and David Martinek from Eureka, will bring apples from their orchards to taste and will be on hand to answer questions about growing apples in Humboldt County.
Wendy Welch, the owner of The Tales of the Lonesome Pine Bookstore in Big Stone Gap, Virginia, is looking for someone to run her shop for two months while she embarks on a book tour to promote her forthcoming book, The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap. Applications are due September 1.
As gigs go, this one is not especially attractive. As Ms. Welch told Shelf Awareness: "Our shop is in a small rural community of 5,400 and it doesn't do
enough trade to hire someone in at a living wage. Plus we have two dogs
and three cats on staff. So what we're offering is complete room and
board for a person or couple (from laundry soap to the occasional pizza
delivery) in return for him/her/them watching the shop for October and
November, when most of the 'road trip' activities for the book take
So you get to work five days a week and take care of an incontient, senile cat, in exchange for a box of Tide and pie now and again from Pizza King. Awesome!
But it could be useful experience–in how NOT to run a bookstore.
By Welch's own account (I read an advance copy of the book, to be published on October 2), she is a lousy bookseller. The job, after all, is to SELL books. If after five years, you don't sell enough books to pay yourself–let alone an employee–and you have to get a teaching job for the benefits (as Ms. Welch did), you aren't a bookseller, you are a hobbyist.
As hobbies go, entertaining neighbors as Ms. Welch and her husband do, in a book-lined room of their house, is a pretty good one. And if Ms. Welch had decided to leave it at that, more power to her. But she is about to go on the road promoting a book extolling the wonders of her late-in-life career as a bookseller, and she presumes to speak for all of us in offering her opinions.
This post, for what it's worth, is a rebuttal of those ideas. I left the book on the plane, so I can't quote from it (nor should I, as
it has yet to be published), so the quotations are from the Tales of the
Lonesome Pine store blog, which is pretty much like the book.
Ms. Welch's basic idea is that bookstores are idyllic community resources free from the taint of lucre. "What WE booksellers do is important…WE represent an open
market of free ideas, with value tied to meaning more than money," she writes (emphasis added, to show that she pretends to talk for all of us). In another post she says, presumably implying vows of poverty and years of penance done at the store, "Bookslinging is a hard way of life, but boy it’s a good one….WE’re like nuns and monks…"
I reject the notion that going into bookselling should be like taking a vow of poverty.
Consider the bigger picture, using Ms. Welch's forthcoming book as an example.
In the book, she mentions (brags?) that she sold the rights for the book for more than she expected. So she got paid to write the book and it will sell for $24.99 per copy. That's not just love, is it?
Her agent took 15%. Again, money, not (just) love.
The editor who bought the book gets a paycheck, health benefits, paid vacation, and a retirement contribution, as does the publicist, marketing manager, etc. They aren't working for love.
Nor is company that will print the book, nor are the employees who work the presses. Nor is the company that manufactured the paper. They all expect to get paid. And rightly so.
So why is it that Ms. Welch believes that the bookseller at the end of the chain between author and reader should work for love and the occasional pizza and not worry about making money? It's an insulting and intellectually bankrupt view. That attitude may well be why she doesn't make money selling books.She blames her store's dismal finances on the small population of her town. But somehow that town supports two pizza parlors, a McDonalds, a Dairy Queen and several dozen other businesses whose owners, I'm pretty sure, are making money, writing paychecks, and paying their mortgage. (Ms. Welch's funding for her bookstore adventures came from a lucky real estate purchase and sale).
Ms. Welch believes that she has created a "community" bookstore and says that mission in life is to be "to be [a] lifelong advocate for books and the people who sell them." As long as they don't expect to buy a house or send their kids to college while selling books.
She believes her unprofitable store is so important to her town that she can't close it for two months while she goes on a book tour. She thinks the town loves her store because so many people tell her how wonderful it is (and most of those comments are transcribed in her book).
But here's a secret: I've been in hundreds of bookstores around the country–some good, a few great, a handful dismal, and too many simply drab. And in every single one people tell the owner, "This is such a wonderful bookstore." It's what people do. They say nice things to shop owners. Shop owners believe them at their peril. If your shop is really valued by the community, those well-wishers take the next step and give you some of their hard-earned money.
Eureka Books in neither the oldest (at 25 years), nor the most financially successful of the seven established bookstores in our rural county of 150,000 people. However, I think we have earned the adjective "community" because the community supports us and we in turn support the community.
Here's how we have invested back into our community, in tangible, measurable ways, over the last quarter century (many of our bookstore colleagues have invested even more):
Salaries paid to employees: Roughly $1.25 million
Books bought from local residents: A million dollars, give or take
Rent and other goods and services bought locally: Close to $2 million
Taxes paid: A million dollars, give or take
Books sold: 750,000 volumes.
I agree with Ms. Welch that bookstores are a "place where people…unite in
believing that commercial viability isn’t the sole criterion for ranking
an idea’s importance." She seems to take it a step further, believing the commercial viability itself is not of any great importance.
I disagree. I want a community with a well-funded police force and good roads. I want the men and women who work here to make a decent wage. I want our local landlord to have enough money to keep up this important historic building. And I want our community to be exposed to the broadest swath of ideas in the world.
None of that is possible if we, as booksellers, don't run our businesses well and profitably. Successful local businesses give communities character. The more successful we are, the more taxes we pay, the more employees we can hire, and the better our community will be. And the more successful we are, the more books pass through our hands into the hands of readers, which in the end is the point. To me, that's what a real community bookstore is all about.
And if I ever have to leave town for two months, I won't ask someone to do my job for free. I'll hire an extra employee, find a pet sitter for the cat and the chickens, and let my replacement buy their own pizza and laundry detergent with the living wage I'll pay them.
The 1943 “Taps” yearbook. Taps, of course, being the song played at military funerals and the school being the Pennsylvania Soldiers’ Orphan School, whose students were made to parade around with “Orphan School” signs — and you thought your high school years were tough.
Senior Guy Cooper’s fondest memory was his “12 years at S.O.S.”
SOS! Are you kidding me? They called the yearbook Taps and the school abbreviation was SOS?
When the official in charge of the Soldiers’ Orphan School said his goal was to “fit [the students] physically, mentally, and morally for the stern realities of this world,” he wasn’t kidding.
If Lemony Snickett had come up with this for the Baudelaire Orphans in his Series of Unfortunate Events, it would have seemed too satirical.
And to top it off, the bright young seniors in this yearbook, who survived twelve years of SOS, graduated just in time to be drafted for the worst years of WWII.
Local author Michael Kauffmann will be on hand to sign copies of his new book Conifer Country tonight from 6-9pm during Arts Alive! Conifer Country is a natural history and hiking guide to 35 conifers of the Klamath Mountain region.
The Times-Standard published an article on the book:
When Michael Kauffmann began hiking through Humboldt County’s forests, he noticed something that a more casual hiker might take for granted.
”We have an extraordinary collection of conifers right here,” he said. “In fact, the Klamath mountain region has one of the most diverse assemblages of conifers anywhere on the planet.”
Although redwoods and Douglas firs get most of the attention, he realized that some of the conifers, like the Baker’s cypress and the foxtail pine, are quite rare and obscure.
Kauffmann, who teaches science at Fortuna Union Elementary School and at Humboldt State University, took it upon himself to explore and document the ranges of 35 local species.