Why Milkweed, other indie publishers are opening bookstores

In May, Milkweed Editions, long established as a literary press, said it would open an independent bookstore in downtown Minneapolis. Not long afterward, Curbside Splendor, a relatively young small press in Chicago, revealed its plans to open a bookshop in Chicago's South Loop.

Suddenly, a rising number of independent presses are going into the retail book business, morphing into full-service community hubs for book browsing and expanded literary programming. Some see retail floor space as an opportunity to bring more customers and supporters to their front doors. Others see it as an important source of income to support the publishing. All say it fulfills their missions as the literary hearts of their communities.

In 2008, Melville House Publishing moved to Brooklyn and opened a bookstore to sell its own books and to serve as an event space for other local small presses. Two years later, Hub City Press (which published my first novel) opened a bookshop and event space in Spartanburg, S.C., selling not only the books it publishes but general interest books, as well.

More recently, Deep Vellum Publishing has begun experimenting with a bookstore in Dallas, with help from a business-minded partner.

Other literary nonprofits are jumping into the act, too. Bookmarks, which hosts the largest book festival in the Carolinas, announced this spring that it was raising funds to open a downtown independent bookstore in Winston-Salem, N.C. The Tulsa Literary Coalition is opening Magic City Books in Oklahoma this year. Both cities now will have hybrids not unlike the ones that publishers are creating.

Just a few years ago, in the throes of the Great Recession, the traditional publishing industry was in trouble. Independent bookstores had been written off, and then Borders went under, proving that even big-box bookstores were struggling. Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Apple were all competing over the growing e-book market. Meanwhile, self-publishing was the Next Big Thing.

In other words: Print was dead, bookstores were passe and self-published e-books were the way to connect writers to readers without a middleman. The mainstream media agreed: This was the new reality.

But if this was the new reality, what is going on with all these nonprofits and independent presses opening local bookstores? Why would anyone decide to open a bookstore in our allegedly post-retail, post-print world?

In the case of Milkweed Editions, much of the decision had to do with space. Tired of rising rents and living office-to-office in Minneapolis, the press in 2000 joined the Loft Literary Center and the Minnesota Center for Book Arts to raise several million dollars in grants and donations and buy a building on an underdeveloped stretch of land on the eastern edge of downtown.

"It's become one of the fastest growing neighborhoods in Minneapolis," said Daniel Slager, Milkweed's publisher and CEO. The new U.S. Bank Stadium is just a couple of blocks away from the Open Book center they built at 1011 Washington Av. S.

So when 750 square feet of street-level space became available in the building, Slager and the rest of the Milkweed team felt a bookstore could thrive.

"We do live in communities, and we want to be part of a coming together in this place," Slager said. "We're trying to bring together readers and writers, and we're committed to being here in Minneapolis."

A bookstore is a way to bring people into contact with books. Slager said the Milkweed store — which plans a grand opening Sept. 20 — will feel more like a gallery than a traditional library-style bookstore. He foresees rotating exhibits related to the publishing process, such as cover designs and manuscript pages to offer insight into what they do as a publisher, as well as a space for literary events.

The store will feature an abundance of titles from independent presses. "We want to create a physical space to showcase some of the amazing books coming out of excellent smallish publishers," he said.

He likened the store to local craft breweries: "We want to be a taproom for all these great indie press publishers so we can say to readers, 'Hey, do you know about Wave Books? Do you know about Tupelo Press?' I can't wait to see the shelves covered with indie press books from all over North America."

This notion of curating small literary presses is also driving Curbside Books & Records, which just opened on Clark Street in Chicago's South Loop. Editor in chief Naomi Huffman said she anticipates the store will be highly curated and will focus solely on books from independent presses.

"Indie publishing is about discovery," she said. "We are going to have an educational component, because people don't necessarily know about indie literature. Our focus is on delivering literature to people who don't know what they're looking for, and maybe don't even know it exists. Indies are publishing the best literature today, so the opportunity to tell more people about it is very exciting."

Founded in 2009, Curbside Splendor has been publishing books "to rewrite the tradition of Midwestern publishing." The press has published numerous books about Chicago or by Chicago authors, providing a uniquely local flavor.

In many ways, the bookstore continues what Curbside Splendor is doing with the press. "We've built a reputation in Chicago for being out and about," Huffman said. "We hold a reading series in Logan Square. We do pop-up book fairs across the city. We're trying to establish a connection with readers, and we view the bookstore as an extension of that."

The bookshop is housed in the Revival Food Hall, amid several restaurants and other shops. Huffman said that each neighborhood in Chicago has its own beloved bookstore, and that Curbside's bookshop, with its programming and educational focus, should fit nicely in the South Loop.

"What we've been discovering over the past few years is that publishing is no longer just about publishing books. It's about delivering literature to people. The best way to do that is not just selling a book — which a bookstore will do — but creating a community that people want to be involved in. We're very excited by the opportunity."

The Hub City Bookshop in Spartanburg has six years of operation under its belt as an offshoot of the nonprofit Hub City Writers Project and its Hub City Press. Southern Living magazine recently named it one of the best bookstores in the South.

For more than 20 years, the Hub City Writers Project has served as an important literary hub for the region at large. The press has quietly published some of the South's best new literature — fiction, poetry, history, memoirs and more. It also runs a national writers residency, a summer writers conference, multiple writing contests and now — thanks to the bookshop space — nearly 100 readings, workshops and other literary events annually.

Betsy Teter, founder and executive director, said establishing a retail store was a brainstorm and a necessity. In 2008, Spartanburg's sole independent bookstore (and Hub City Press' largest customer) went out of business.

"It was a survival thing for us," Teter said.

At the time, Hub City was crowded into an office with another arts organization. The board and staff believed that downtown Spartanburg needed a bookstore, so they raised $300,000 in less than three months as the community got on board with the idea.

"In the beginning, it was a much smaller idea than it ended up being," Teter said. "We sell Hub City Press titles in the front of the store, but we also have thousands of other titles, as well."

The great news for organizations such as Milkweed is that the risk paid off big for Hub City.

"We have more than doubled the number of people making charitable contributions to our organization since opening the bookshop," said Teter, adding that sales at the bookstore help bring in revenue for Hub City's press and programming.

"Our mission is to 'nurture writers and cultivate readers,' so we're providing a place in our downtown for people to peruse books, interact with writers, and to talk about books with people who are knowledgeable," Teter said. "I like to think of our bookstore as a literary center."

Perhaps this is the new reality for publishing. As New York publishers and tech companies continue to vie for market share and boost quarterly returns, local literary communities are taking matters into their own hands, building unique book cultures across the United States and continuing the old-fashioned task of bringing together writers and readers.

The author of the novel "The Whiskey Baron," Jon Sealy lives in Richmond, Va. This piece is reprinted with permission from lithub.com.