Merchandise Spotlight: Books

The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man. Nothing else that he builds ever lasts: monuments fall; nations perish; civilizations grow old and die out; new races build others. But in the world of books are volumes that have seen this happen again and again and yet live on. Still young, still as fresh as the day they were written, still telling men’s hearts, of the hearts of men centuries dead.

—Clarence Day

Clarence Day was the main character of the great Howard Lindsay-Russell Crouse family comedy, “Life With Father,” that ran on Broadway all through the dark years of World War II and inspired tens of thousands of theater-goers to remember American life as it was and to leave the theater with the hope that life will be this way sometime again. This quotation from Clarence Day, as I recall, was framed poster-sized in the entrance of the library at Andover, and it has remained with me for more than 50 years. Why do I write books, read books and buy books? See Clarence Day above.

Selling Books Direct

“The first book catalogs were printed in Venice in the 1500s,” writes Cecil C. Hoge Sr. in his wonderful book, “The First Hundred Years Are the Toughest.” “In America, before the Revolution, Benjamin Franklin published a book catalog asking for mail orders.”

What Hoge neglected to report was that as well as inventing bifocals and the Franklin stove, our first postmaster general also created the very first mail-order guarantee:

Those persons who live remote, by sending their orders and money to said B. Franklin, may depend on the same justice as if present.

During the years, the direct marketing of books has taken many forms. The ABCs (American, Britannica and Compton Encyclopedias) used to send armies of salesmen out to knock on doors and give live presentations to families, laying on fear, guilt and salvation as they persuaded parents they were depriving their children of a bright future if they did not sign on the dotted line. Buyers would then sign up for the yearbook, which would be automatically shipped and billed annually; this was the first continuity program.

Maxwell Sackheim and Harry Schermann invented the negative-option concept and founded Book-of-the-Month Club in 1926. In the 1960s, John Stevenson of Greystone and, soon thereafter, Jerome Hardy of Time-Life perfected the art, science and arithmetic of continuity series—sending the first book in a series for free and then following up with one book a month until the reader has the complete set.

Because the marketing of single titles by mail is economically not feasible, all these schemes were predicated on the concept of getting hundreds of dollars worth of books into readers’ hands with minimal effort on the part of buyers, and allowing them to pay in relatively small monthly amounts.

With the exception of Book-of-the-Month and Literary Guild, these purveyors of books were not selling literary experiences; they were selling furniture—decor to fill up empty bookshelves that would give a home warmth as well as impress friends and neighbors. As a result, consumers were not necessarily more knowledgeable, but they did feel good about themselves.

Edward R. Hamilton, Bookseller

A variation on the theme was the old Marboro bookstore chain, which specialized in remainders—publishers’ overstocks. It advertised via freestanding inserts in newspapers, and mailed these same tabloid efforts out to book lovers. Because prices were so low, buyers would order several books, making the proposition economically viable.

If you want to see what the old Marboro format looked like, pick up one of Edward R. Hamilton’s tacky, tabloid, black-and-white catalogs on newsprint. This is classic “cut-and-copy”—a postage-stamp-sized illustration of the book with the title in boldfaced Helvetica and five or six lines of copy in plain Helvetica. The tone of the copy could be the same for cell phones, cars or credit cards. For example:

THE MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID. By Esther Williams with D. Diehl. Her wonderfully witty and wry take on her years in Hollywood, creating an incredible genre of film still fresh and fascinating today, filled with behind-the-scenes gossip and tales of real life in a fantasy world. Shopworn. 32 pages photos. 416 pages. S&S. Pub. at $26.00 $12.95.

Hamilton’s copy is the kind of stuff I cut my teeth on when I first started in publishing—short, concise, hard-hitting, titillating. The Hamilton flier brings me to one of my favorite hobby horses—book jackets. For a book jacket to be effective, the title or the design (e.g., the Patrick O’Brian series) must stand out on a shelf across the room, and when reduced to postage-stamp size still be immediately recognizable in faded black-and-white.

Highly Personal New Breed

I guess the main thrill of books goes back to the Clarence Day quotation: “still telling men’s hearts, of the hearts of men centuries dead.” Books are highly personal items. And while the Edward Hamilton/Amazon.com model depersonalizes them and makes them commodities, an extraordinary new book catalog model emerged in the 1980s, whereby the marketers sell only those products they truly love. They convey that love in a personal way.

My favorites are A Common Reader, an elegant little book, and The Akadine Press, its sister publication, offering exclusive printed Common Reader editions. Here’s how Common Reader’s two founders describe what they do:

Incredible as it seems to our still rather unaccustomedly middle-aged selves, the two of us who write A COMMON READER have been friends for more than a quarter-century. Obviously we have a lot in common, as witness the voice we share throughout the catalog, which arises from perhaps the principal shaping force in each of our lives—a passionate enthusiasm for good writing in its many guises. Had we been too much alike, however, we’d no doubt have had it up to here with one another long ago, so it’s probably for the best that we’ve led, and continue to lead, very different lives. One particular advantage to having these, say, “differences in common” is this: Whenever we find ourselves, to our surprise, equally enthralled by a book that at first seemed primarily, if not solely, concerned with some unshared aspect of our respective experience, then we can be pretty sure we’ve made a noteworthy discovery indeed.

—James Mustich Jr., Publisher & President

—Thomas Meagher, Editorial Director

Now, take a look at a sampling of their copy and compare it to the Edward R. Hamilton copy above:

Time Out Book of London Walks: As soon as I clear Customs, I pilot my luggage-piled trolley through the Heathrow scrum to the newsstand where I buy a bottle of water and the current issue of Time Out, the indispensable guide to what’s up each week in London. There have been earlier T.O. books about the metropolis, but the new “Time Out Book of London Walks” is by far the most distinctive—and, I suspect, the one I’ll most frequently be putting to use in the future.

For the catalog purist, A Common Reader and The Akadine Press catalogs break all the rules—only one to four books on the page with intensely personal, literate copy that renders the catalog every bit as good a read as the books it’s selling.

The second delightful catalog is Daedalus Books. The owner’s philosophy is found on the Web site (www.salebooks.com):

Since 1980 Daedalus Books has been the premier source for bibliophiles looking for quality books at bargain prices. From the thousands of books offered by publishers as remainders every year, we selectively choose books which are of lasting value. Remaindered books are the difference between what a publisher printed and what was sold. Bestsellers, classics, and overlooked gems get remaindered when the remaining stock is larger than the projected future sales. We are devoted to keeping these good books before the reading public. All of our books are hardcover editions (unless noted otherwise), and all are in good condition.

We also love music—mostly in the classical, jazz, blues, and world genres. This obsession led to the creation of our music catalogs and music Web site. We listen to hundreds of discs before making the selections that we actually present to the customer. All of our discs are on sale, all the time. If a disc or cassette is a cut-out (we tell you this), it might be marked with a slash or small punch on the jewel box of the CD or cassette. The actual CDs and cassettes are in perfect condition.

Daedalus mails out over twelve print catalogs a year, and each one has new offerings, but for various reasons (quantity, timing, etc.) many of the titles that we offer never appear in a print catalog. However, they do appear on our Web site, which has new titles almost every day. Because most of the remaindered books that we sell are in limited quantities, it is important that you order what you want as soon as you see it.

As with A Common Reader, the Daedalus copy, with its Helvetica headlines in green and its long copy in serif type, is wonderfully literate. It is not, however, as deeply nor as irrevocably personal as its diminutive competitor.

Example:

THE NEW COOKS’ CATALOGUE Burt Wolf. Knopf. What to get the foodies on your list—another pot of jam or gourmet java seems so, well, derivative. Why not this guide to the ultimate in whisks, yogurt machines, knives, and grinders? In 1975, The Cooks’ Catalogue was published to enormous critical and commercial success—hailed by The New York Times as “a must for anyone interested in food and cooking.” On the 25th anniversary of the original publication, Burt Wolf, Florence Fabricant, and a team of more than 100 of the world’s leading food authorities bring us an all-new, thoroughly updated, expanded book.

The Also-Rans

One of New York’s most revered institutions is the Strand Bookstore (“8 Miles of Books”). Its 32-page, 81/2˝x11˝, black-and-white catalog consists of a few illustrations and three- to six-line listings of as many as two dozen titles to a page—entirely in sans serif type—divided by category.

Bas Bleu Inc. is a full-color slim-jim (as in the late J. Peterman catalog) and offers not only books but gifts as well (“Carpe Diem” key rings, Shakespeare bust/bookend, die-cut cardboard napkin rings with quotes from Dorothy Parker or Oscar Wilde, and gargoyle refrigerator magnets).

For Catalogers to Consider

I got the sense that the copywriters for Edward R. Hamilton and Strand Bookstore picked up jacket copy, whereas the folks at Daedalus and A Common Reader actually read the books and injected themselves into the copy. First-person copy turns up in other catalogs as well, most notably Herrington’s and The Sharper Image, where the proprietors regale readers with their personal experiences and pleasures of discovering and using the products they are selling.

Otherwise, most catalog copy is “it” copy (as opposed to “you” or “me” copy). Generally speaking, “I” and “me” copy is more emotional than “it” copy and, in the words of John J. Flieder, “When emotion and reason come into conflict, emotion wins every time.” Or as Brookstone’s master freelancer, Jack Maxson, said, “More than 50 percent of our buying decisions are based on emotion.”

Test the first-person approach. You just might be pleasantly surprised.