Independent bookstore

Based on Wikipedia: Independent bookstore

The Great Bookstore Die-Off (And What Came After)

Between 1995 and 2000, forty percent of independent bookstores in the United States vanished. Not relocated. Not rebranded. Gone.

The names read like a literary obituary. Kroch's and Brentano's in Chicago, gone in 1995. Gotham Book Mart in New York, which had survived the Great Depression and two World Wars, shuttered in 2006. Cody's Books in Berkeley, a countercultural landmark that had weathered firebombings during the free speech era, closed in 2008. A Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books—the San Francisco store whose very name evoked Hemingway's meditation on loneliness and sanctuary—switched off its lights for good in 2006.

These weren't just businesses failing. They were gathering places disappearing, community institutions dissolving, the physical infrastructure of American literary culture crumbling store by store.

And yet, walk through almost any American city today, and you'll find something unexpected: new independent bookstores, thriving. The industry didn't just survive. It figured out how to resurrect itself.

What Exactly Is an Independent Bookstore?

The definition sounds simple but reveals something important about how we think about business. An independent bookstore is one that's independently owned—not part of a corporation that operates multiple retail chains. Most independents are single locations, though some operate a handful of stores under the same ownership. They might be structured as sole proprietorships (one person owns everything), partnerships (a few people share ownership), cooperatives (members own and govern the business collectively), or even nonprofits (operating for community benefit rather than profit distribution).

The opposite of an independent is a chain bookstore—think Barnes & Noble, with its standardized layouts, centralized buying decisions, and stores scattered across shopping malls nationwide. Chains are typically owned by corporations that may have their fingers in entirely unrelated businesses. A company that owns a bookstore chain might also own a paper manufacturing division or an office supply subsidiary.

This distinction matters because it shapes what books end up on shelves. Chain stores optimize for what sells predictably across hundreds of locations. An independent can take a chance on a quirky local author, stock obscure poetry collections, or dedicate half a wall to translated fiction from small presses. The independent bookstore owner who loves maritime history can build a nautical section that no corporate buyer would ever approve.

The Long Decline

For most of the twentieth century, the question of independent versus chain bookstores barely existed. Almost all bookstores were independent. A bookstore was a local business, like a hardware store or a bakery, owned by someone who lived in the community and knew the customers by name.

Then came the suburban shopping mall.

The 1950s transformed how Americans shopped. Automobile ownership exploded, families moved to suburbs, and enclosed shopping malls became the new town squares. Mall developers wanted anchor tenants and reliable retail chains. Bookstores followed the customers.

B. Dalton and Waldenbooks became the dominant mall bookstore chains in the 1960s and 1970s, expanding aggressively through the 1980s. Their business model was standardization: every store looked similar, carried similar inventory, and operated under the same corporate policies. What they lost in local flavor they gained in efficiency and name recognition.

Then came the big-box stores. Barnes & Noble, which had been a modest New York bookseller since 1917, transformed itself into a superstore concept with vast square footage, deep discounts, and comfortable chairs inviting customers to linger. Borders followed the same playbook. Crown Books pioneered aggressive discounting. These weren't bookstores in the traditional sense—they were retail destinations, places where you might spend an afternoon browsing, sipping coffee, and eventually buying a bestseller at twenty percent off.

Independent bookstores couldn't match the discounts. They couldn't match the selection. They couldn't match the marketing budgets or the prime mall locations. Throughout the 1990s, they closed in waves.

Then Amazon Ate the Chains

Here's where the story takes an unexpected turn.

Amazon was founded in 1994, during the wild optimism of the dot-com boom. For its first four years, it sold nothing but books. The pitch was simple: infinite selection, lower prices, delivered to your door. No need to drive to a mall or hunt through crowded aisles.

The 2000s brought another disruption: electronic books. E-books could be published directly on the World Wide Web or read on dedicated devices like Amazon's Kindle, which launched in 2007. Suddenly, you didn't even need physical books at all. You could carry a library in your pocket.

These twin forces—online retail and digital reading—didn't just pressure independent bookstores. They decimated the chains.

Crown Books closed in 2001. Borders, B. Dalton, and Waldenbooks were all liquidated between 2010 and 2011. The mall bookstore, which had seemed like the inevitable future of American book retail, essentially ceased to exist. Barnes & Noble survived, but in diminished form, desperately launching its own e-reader (the Nook) to compete with the Kindle. The second-largest chain, Books-A-Million, operated in only thirty-two states.

The corporations that had driven independent bookstores to extinction were themselves driven to extinction by an even larger corporate force. It was capitalism's creative destruction playing out in real time, with each wave of disruption wiping out the previous disruptor.

The Unexpected Resurrection

What happened next surprised everyone, including the people studying it.

According to the American Booksellers Association, the number of independent bookstores in the United States increased by thirty-five percent between 2009 and 2015—rising from 1,651 stores to 2,227. After decades of decline, independent bookselling was growing again.

Ryan Raffaelli, a professor at Harvard Business School, studied this phenomenon and identified two main factors driving the revival.

First: the buy local movement. As awareness grew about the economic and environmental costs of shipping products across the globe, consumers increasingly sought out local businesses. Spending money at a neighborhood bookstore kept dollars circulating in the community, supported local jobs, and felt more meaningful than clicking a button on a website.

Second: curation and community. Independent bookstores couldn't compete on price or selection. But they could offer something Amazon couldn't—a knowledgeable human being who had actually read the books on the shelves and could recommend exactly what you needed for your book club, your niece's birthday, or your own Sunday afternoon. They could host author readings, children's story hours, book groups, and literary discussions. They could become gathering places for people who loved reading and wanted to be around other people who loved reading.

The market, Raffaelli observed, had bifurcated. Some customers wanted the cheapest possible price and widest possible selection—and for them, Amazon was unbeatable. But other customers wanted an experience: discovery, community, human connection. For them, the independent bookstore offered something irreplaceable.

The Bookstore as Salon

The word "salon" originally meant a large reception room in a grand house. In seventeenth and eighteenth century France, aristocratic women hosted gatherings in their salons where writers, philosophers, artists, and intellectuals could meet, exchange ideas, and sometimes launch careers. The salon was a space for intellectual community outside formal institutions like universities or the royal court.

Independent bookstores have inherited this role. Author events at independent stores function as modern literary salons—places where new writers find audiences, where readers meet the people behind the words, where books are not just commodities to purchase but occasions for conversation.

Historically, independent bookstores played a crucial role in supporting new authors and small presses. A chain store's buying decisions were made centrally, often prioritizing established names with proven sales records. An independent store owner could take a chance on a debut novelist, hand-sell copies to curious customers, and help build a reputation one reader at a time. Many successful literary careers trace back to an independent bookseller who championed an unknown writer.

This function becomes even more important as traditional publishing consolidates. When a handful of large corporations control most book publishing, alternative pathways matter. Small presses, independent publishers, and self-published authors need physical venues where their work can reach readers. Independent bookstores provide that venue.

African American Bookstores: Politics, Culture, and Commerce

Within the broader category of independent bookstores, African American bookstores occupy a distinctive place in American cultural history. These are stores owned and operated by African Americans, often (though not always) specializing in works by and about Black Americans, and often serving predominantly Black communities.

The first documented African American bookstore was established in 1834 by David Ruggles, a free Black man in New York City. Ruggles was an abolitionist—someone who worked to end slavery—and his bookstore was part of a broader network of Black institutions working toward freedom and equality. From its earliest days, the Black bookstore was intertwined with political struggle.

This connection intensified over the following century. When Young's Book Exchange opened as Harlem's first African American bookstore, it served a community in the midst of the Harlem Renaissance, the flowering of Black art, literature, and music in the 1920s and 1930s. Books were not merely entertainment; they were tools for self-education, cultural pride, and political organization.

Perhaps the most famous Black bookstore in American history was Lewis Michaux's African National Memorial Bookstore, which operated in Harlem from the early 1930s to the mid-1970s. Michaux's store doubled as a meeting place for Black activists. Malcolm X was among the regular visitors. The store wasn't just selling books—it was providing a physical space where radical ideas could circulate and communities could organize.

The Black Power movement of the 1960s and 1970s embraced Black-owned bookstores explicitly. These stores became vehicles for promoting Black nationalist ideology and creating what activists called "radical political spaces" in Black neighborhoods across the country. A bookstore could be a front line in the struggle for liberation.

By the 1990s, African American bookstores had gained attention from more mainstream, business-oriented media like Black Enterprise magazine. The stores had proven their commercial viability while maintaining their cultural significance. At their peak, more than 250 Black-owned bookstores operated across the United States.

Then came the same pressures that affected all independent bookstores—only worse. As chain stores and Amazon increasingly stocked Black-authored books, the specialized niche that Black bookstores had filled became less distinctive. The number dropped from over 250 to just over 70, a decline of more than seventy percent.

Those that survive carry immense cultural weight. Marcus Books in Oakland, founded in 1960, is the oldest Black bookseller in the country. Eso Won Books in Los Angeles is described as "a Leimert Park institution of black literature and culture." Sankofa in Washington, D.C.—named for the Akan word meaning to learn from the past—serves the nation's capital. These aren't just stores; they're landmarks, archives, and gathering places.

Specialty Stores: Where Passions Find Shelves

One of the advantages independent bookstores hold over chains is the ability to specialize. A chain must stock what sells broadly; an independent can stock what sells to a particular community, however small.

Feminist bookstores emerged from the women's liberation movement of the 1960s and 1970s, selling material relating to women's issues, gender, and sexuality. At a time when mainstream bookstores relegated women's literature to a small section—if they carried it at all—feminist bookstores provided comprehensive collections of feminist theory, women's history, and female-authored fiction. Many also functioned as community centers, hosting consciousness-raising groups and political organizing.

Infoshops take this political function even further. An infoshop is a space where people can access anarchist or autonomist ideas—political philosophies that reject hierarchical authority and advocate for decentralized, self-organized communities. Infoshops typically stock radical newspapers, political zines (small self-published magazines), and books on topics like mutual aid, direct action, and anti-capitalism. They often operate on sliding-scale pricing or as free libraries, embodying the anti-commercial values they promote.

LGBT bookstores serve the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community, providing literature that mainstream stores historically refused to carry. Before the internet made every book accessible, LGBT bookstores were sometimes the only place young queer people could find stories reflecting their experiences. The stores also functioned as community spaces, connecting isolated individuals with organizations and support networks.

Religious bookstores cater to various faith communities, offering sacred texts, theological works, devotional literature, and religious gifts. These range from small Catholic bookshops attached to parishes to evangelical Christian superstores with extensive music and film sections.

Used bookstores specialize in old and out-of-print books, serving readers who want editions no longer in commercial production. Antiquarian booksellers deal in rare and collectible volumes, sometimes worth thousands of dollars. These stores require specialized knowledge—understanding book conditions, identifying first editions, knowing which authors and printings collectors seek.

The Science Fiction Connection

The 1970s saw a particular boom in specialty bookstores devoted to science fiction, fantasy, and horror. The catalyst was J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, which had achieved unexpected mass popularity and created an audience hungry for more fantasy literature.

Among the first dedicated science fiction bookstores were Andromeda Books in Birmingham, England, which opened in 1971 and operated until 2002; the Bakka-Phoenix Bookstore in Toronto, established in 1972 and still operating today; and A Change of Hobbit in Southern California, also from 1972.

These stores weren't just retail operations. They became hubs for science fiction fandom—the community of devoted readers, writers, convention-goers, and enthusiasts who treated science fiction not just as entertainment but as a way of life. Science fiction bookstores hosted author signings, book launches, and reading groups. They connected local fans with each other and with the broader national and international fandom community. They sold fanzines (fan-produced magazines), game books, and collectibles alongside novels.

Many of these specialty stores closed during the business upheavals of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, victims of the same forces that pressured all independent retailers. But during their heyday, they were irreplaceable institutions—the physical spaces where science fiction culture happened.

Bookstores Helping Bookstores

In 2023, something unusual happened in Vermont. When Bear Pond Books in Montpelier and Next Chapter Bookstore in Barre faced financial difficulties, approximately seventeen other Vermont businesses organized to donate portions of their sales to help keep the struggling stores alive.

The participating stores included Bennington Bookshop in Bennington, The Book Nook in Ludlow, Norwich Bookstore in Norwich, Vermont Book Shop in Middlebury, and Rootstock Publishing in Montpelier. Competitors chose to support each other rather than celebrate each other's struggles.

This kind of mutual aid among independent bookstores reflects something important about the industry's culture. Independent booksellers tend to see themselves less as competitors than as colleagues in a shared enterprise. They recommend each other's stores to traveling customers. They share information about difficult publishers or problem distributors. They collectively advocate for policies that support independent retail.

Organizations like the American Booksellers Association and the Independent Online Booksellers Association formalize this cooperation, providing resources, advocacy, and community for independent store owners. Bookshop.org, an online platform, allows customers to buy books online while directing a portion of the sale to independent bookstores. Libro.fm offers a similar model for audiobooks.

What Independent Bookstores Actually Do

It's worth pausing to consider what a bookstore does that buying books online doesn't.

A bookstore puts books in physical proximity to people. You walk past a display and something catches your eye—a cover, a title, a staff recommendation card. You pick it up, read the first page, maybe buy it, maybe don't, but you've encountered a book you would never have searched for online. Algorithms suggest books based on your past purchases; bookstores introduce you to books you didn't know you wanted.

A bookstore provides human expertise. The staff member who notices you browsing the mystery section and suggests a debut author you've never heard of. The owner who special-orders obscure titles and calls when they arrive. The children's book buyer who knows exactly which picture book will captivate a reluctant four-year-old. This expertise is increasingly rare and increasingly valuable.

A bookstore creates community space. Author readings bring writers and readers together in the same room. Book clubs provide structure for literary discussion. Children's story hours give parents a reason to leave the house and kids a reason to associate books with fun. These events don't just sell books; they build the relationships that sustain reading culture.

A bookstore anchors a neighborhood. When you walk down a commercial street, the presence of a bookstore signals something about that place—that it values culture, that it supports small business, that it's a place where people who read live and shop. Bookstores generate foot traffic for neighboring businesses and contribute to the intangible quality that makes some neighborhoods feel alive and others feel sterile.

The Ongoing Tension

Two documentary films have explored the struggles of American independent bookstores. Indies Under Fire (2006) and Paperback Dreams (2008) both examine how small stores navigate an economy that seems designed to crush them. The 1998 romantic comedy You've Got Mail fictionalized the conflict, with Meg Ryan playing the owner of a children's bookstore driven out of business by Tom Hanks's corporate superstore (and, in a twist that annoyed many viewers, falling in love with him anyway).

These cultural artifacts capture a moment of genuine crisis. But they also capture something that turned out to be more durable than anyone expected: the attachment people feel to their local bookstores, and the lengths they'll go to keep them alive.

The independent bookstore isn't an efficient way to distribute books. Amazon does that better. It isn't always the cheapest way to buy books. Discount retailers often beat local prices. It isn't even necessarily the most convenient way—nothing beats having a book delivered to your door.

What the independent bookstore offers is something harder to quantify: a place, a community, a human connection to the world of books. For enough people, that turns out to be worth protecting.