Thoughts on a Bookstore Closing

By Kathy Kittredge

On January 25, 2002, we had our last business day as Village Books in El Dorado Hills, California. Borders moved too close to our community 15 months earlier and proved to be the category killer they are. After 15 steady months and two Christmas seasons of 20-30 percent drops in business, we decided to close as our lease was also up in January 2002.

We had known for three years that Borders would be coming to the area and, of course, we considered our store special enough -- and our customers loyal enough -- to have enough business to go around. But even with increased advertising, additional events, the best customer service, and more, I decided to not withstand the falling sales and the resulting less-than-quality store.

Our decision to close was also due to high rent. Pat Holt's online articles have featured discussion on how the "most lethal enemy of independent bookstores is high rent," so common in these neighborhood strip malls.

Our store was in an affluent neighborhood, where real estate prices have reached ridiculous levels. When this is combined with absentee landlords, who hand over management of their centers to global corporations, the tenants' "triple net" charges seem to provide year-end bonuses for their managers and yield nothing of value to the merchants and their neighborhoods. We originally chose our location because it had an on-sight owner/manager, but after two years they sold, and for seven years afterward the tenants were always battling it out with the portfolio managers to get what we paid for.

We sold all inventory at 20 percent off in November and December, then went to 50 percent December 26, and to 60 percent off on January14. At the end, the few remaining books were packed up and donated to libraries and women's shelters. The earlier sales were called holiday sales, and the closing sale was only three weeks long. I had tried to maximize holiday sales and keep the shock of the closing swift and efficient.

The hardest part was making the decision to do it. It is much easier and comforting to keep doing what you are used to doing day after day. Neal Coonerty, of Bookshop Santa Cruz in Santa Cruz, California, has written in BTW about operating in lean times and has cautioned about how things can seem okay until it's too late to salvage anything, not his exact words, but it was a powerful prod for me. [To read Coonerty’s piece, click here.]

We decided to take the other side of our bookstore's business -- the cards, stationery and gift sidelines -- and to evolve into another business, with a new name and a new location. We recently opened in an historic shopping district on Main Street in Placerville, California, as Memento. We chose not to be a bookseller here as there are several used book dealers in the antique shops and one long-established independent new bookseller already on the street.

I was proud to be associated with both the Northern California Independent Booksellers Association and ABA. I loved selling books. Why else did I do it every day for over eight years? We were the best little store we knew how to be, but in the big book world we weren't so important. Booksellers are truly lucky people -- to be on such intimate terms with such a thing.

What is sad about closing any bookstore is the loss of the expertise of the staff. The neighborhood loses trustworthy, reliable, knowledgeable people. I recently read an article that stated when one business closes, the nearby competitors don't necessarily gain; a big percentage of the customer demand simply dies out, like a plant that doesn't get nourishment. That is a sad picture.

The best part of closing was favorite customers dropping in and telling us their feelings. "Thank you for introducing me to (an author)." "It was because of you my son is such a good reader now." "I knew I could always get help here; we will miss you." "My mother loved everything I ever brought her from your store."

Some customers surprised us with hugs or gifts or tears. One said, "I don't know why these centers can't keep stores of quality." The next customer said, "I don't know why you little stores even try. We have Barnes & Noble, we don't need little stores." We also got plenty of "so sorry you couldn't make it," mostly from people whom we'd never seen before. My pride would make me reply, "We made it for eight and a half years; now, we choose to leave."

If anyone has questions about the process of closing, please feel free to contact us. Thank you for your organizations’ help though the years.

Kathy Kittredge was the owner of Village Books, in El Dorado Hills, California. She can be reached at (530) 344-1578 or [email protected].

This essay was originally published in the NCIBA newsletter, and BTW is grateful to author and NCIBA for permission to republish it here.