A trip to the Amazon book store

“Do you feel any conflict about going into a store run by an online business that drove other book stores out of business?” my husband asked.  We were standing in front of the new Amazon brick and mortar storefront in Georgetown as I snapped a photo.  The answer is, “Of course,” but that ship sailed a long time ago.  I was one of Amazon’s first customers (having received an amazon travel cup and a post-it note pad with their logo as a thank you Christmas gift from them some 2o+ years ago) and I have spent thousands (maybe tens of thousands?) of dollars with one-click shopping, most of it for books. I do love a book store, however, and dutifully pay $50 a year for my Barnes and Noble card, a small price I figure for the privilege of periodically strolling their aisles and fingering the books. When I go to Denver to visit my daughter three times a year I always drop in and make a purchase at The Tattered Cover, the large independent book store there.  I twinge a little at paying full price but the selection is huge, the arm chairs comfy and the schedule of authors for readings impressive.  I appreciate all of these luxuries that a virtual store cannot provide.  

But I digress.  What you want to know is what the Amazon book store is like and I will tell you in one word:  underwhelming.  It somewhat resembles an Apple store in its sparseness.  Although larger, it reminds me of an airport book store where you can always count on finding a copy of the latest best sellers.  The fiction section, to which I always gravitate, is small and is stocked with what I imagine are Amazon’s most popular 150 titles, both recent and classic.  I intended to buy the books in my group’s new list, none of which are particularly obscure, but could find copies of only three out nine.  The mystery and science fiction sections are decent and there is a reasonably good range of titles for children and teens, but by the time I got to biography and other nonfiction, I had lost interest.  These areas mimicked the range and number offered in fiction – so skimpy.  

To be fair, other titles (but also repeated titles) appeared in several thematic displays: “Most popular book group selections on Goodreads,” “Books with over 10,000 positive reviews on our website,” and “If you liked this (arrow pointing left), then you’ll love (arrow pointing right to four other titles).”  I did actually appreciate this last grouping, a strategy brought forward from the web site. There was the display of Amazon electronics (the Kindle in all its forms, the Echo) and accessories like headphones.  There was a table with colored pens and markers.  A small coffee shop with seating could be found on the lower floor.   

I guess I was expecting too much.  When I think of Amazon, I envision a warehouse of books.  Of course, that would be ridiculous.  Who can afford that kind of retail space, particularly in an urban area?  Although I did not make a purchase, signs indicated that you could pay the same price in store that you would pay on line, so there’s that. But if you are going to contribute to the demise of Borders and Bretano’s and most branches of Kramerbooks, and then turn around and create your own book store, then really you should have something more interesting and satisfying with which to replace them.