I’ve spent a lot of time in bookstores. I usually arrive with a purpose—to buy a particular title—and search it out immediately but then I end up spending, at minimum, half an hour browsing the stacks, collecting an armful of books as I drift from section to section. When I reach that uneasy point at which the price tag of what I’m carrying far exceeds what I’ve got to spend that day, I stop collecting and begin doing what I like to call bookstore math. Math isn’t the right word for it, but I’ve yet to think of one that more appropriately describes the elaborate and ridiculous calculations I run through on my way to the cashier.
Bookstore math is totally different from clothing or handbag math. With a sweater or purse, the calculations are practical and rational, quite boringly so. When I’ve got several sweaters in the change-room, all of which meet my exacting criteria regarding fit, colour and value-for-money, but room in the budget for just one (this happens all too frequently), the choice comes down to which one I’d wear more often, which goes with more of what I already own or is less like something I already own, etc.
Bookstore math is much more complicated. Unlike purses or shoes, volume is a big factor. That is, I generally want to walk away with as many books as possible. I try to avoid shopping in big box stores, which would allow me, say, twice the volume for my money, because I have some philosophical reservations about them. I prefer new books to used, too, unless they’re in really good shape—it makes me crazy when someone’s written in the margins or whatnot. I also like to carry my books around a lot, so I don’t tend to go for books too heavy or tall to fit in the majority of my purses. What all of this ultimately means (I know you’re dying to know!) is that when I’m in my favorite local independent bookstore, I tend buy more paperbacks than hardcovers, so hardcovers are first to be eliminated from my armful. Unless the hardcover is a new book by one of my all-time favorite authors and I can’t stand to wait for the paperback. Or the hardcover is on sale. Or it’s the book I actually came in to get. That complicates matters.
I don’t tend to re-read books, even the ones I love, so there’s no equivalent for the ‘cost-per-wear’ thinking with which I rationalize spending what I do on, say, boots or jackets. However, if I have a friend with similar taste who likely does not own this particular book yet, the possibility of lending it out later raises its value and saves it from elimination; conversely, if I’m confident that a friend of mine might already own the book I’m holding and would lend it to me, or that I could get it from the library without waiting several weeks, I can put it back on the shelf more easily.
When I’m down to an armful of new paperbacks of essentially the same price with equally-appealing content, this is when things start to get really silly. I start trying to put a value on a friend’s recommendation versus a great review in The Globe, or measure the lure of the unknown versus the comfort of a proven quantity. I’m not going to lie; the book’s physical attractiveness does come into play—all else being equal, if one book’s cover is gorgeous and the other is blah, or one has tiny, hard-to-read print or super-thin paper, that might make the decision in the end. But you know that when I start thinking in these terms, it’s because desperation has set in.
Does anyone else out there do this kind of bookstore math? If not, I suppose you either make your decisions much more sensibly (do tell!) or else have unlimited book budgets…










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I have a very, very similar equation when it comes to bookstores. The process is the same–go in for one thing, begin to realize my biceps are sore and my wallet is not that full–and I have a lot of the same criteria. Hardbacks never leave the shelf in my presence unless they’re below $5–I hate hardbacks, wish the industry would stop printing them, or at least release paperbacks simultaneously, and at this point I’m just trying to save one more book from the pulping machine. I also have a weird thing where if I’m looking at two books with equal merit but the same price point, I’ll go for the thicker one. I suppose it’s my mother’s cost-per-unit mantra drilled into me, but for some reason, if it’s between two books I’d love to read, I’ll pick the one with more pages.
Yes, I did that very thing on Saturday! I was choosing between two books by the same author and to make up my mind I picked the one that was (slightly) longer — Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. Weird. But the more I think about it, we’re probably the norm — seriously, what kind of reader walks into a bookstore, gets the one title she came for and walks back out? A weird one.
I also have mixed feelings about buying books in big box stores, but I suppose I am hypocritical because I also check out community book sales, and the used bookstores. All the while realizing that the authors do not get royalties from those resales.
I look at the design of the book cover, the amount of care that has gone into the production of the book, the font and its size, the margins, then I might skim a few pages while in the store. Musty-smelling used books get put back on the pile, I won’t bring them home.
When there are a few books and I can only afford one, I try to imagine which one is going to give me more entertainment or enjoyment.
I very rarely reread a book, and usually donate them to another fundraising book sale when I am finished with them, so I suppose I am helping an author to remain “in distribution”.
Rosalynn, every time you say it I’m shocked all over again that you do not reread! I’ve got a few books I think I’ve read 5 times! And love a little more each read. Keeping that in mind, is it any wonder that I can talk myself into almost any book if it’s less than $20? Especially if it’s less than $10, then it’s a done deal. Anything more than $20 is not even tempting. Maybe I have a built in book to budget calculator.
However, I also tend to only buy one, maybe 2 at a time. I guess that’s my bookstore math, 2 at a time! I also have no qualms with purchasing used, at box stores, or checking to see if the book I’m really hoping for is at the library. Ultimately, I’m very selfish.
Catherine, I’m not sure why I don’t re-read – I suppose because I’m always after something ‘new’ and there’s so much out there, I feel like I can’t take the time to re-read if I’m ever going to become, ahem, “well-read”…it’s silly, because reading in depth can be just as wonderful as reading widely…
Alan, I did not realize that authors don’t get royalties on used books! I’m really under-educated as to how that whole system works. I thus feel slightly less guilty about purchasing the most of my books new, so thanks!