minneapolis

Population 382,618; miles of connected skyway, 5; average January temperature, +12 F.

Last weekend, I had an unlikely opportunity: I was invited to sit on a panel that discussed the future of small literary presses, non-profit publishing, and — in general — books that took place at Coffee House Press in Minneapolis. I love books, reading, and non-corporate media, so I jumped at the chance to talk about this stuff in public. You may ask: Why me? I have a person on the inside who knows that I like to talk.1

My fellow panelists were a murderer’s row of publishing insight. Rick Simonson is the co-founder of Copper Canyon Press and a book buyer at the Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle; Richard Nash is the publisher of Soft Skull Press; Patricia Wakida runs Wasabi Press; and, Michael Coffey is the Managing Editor at Publisher’s Weekly (and the author of an excellent baseball book, 27 Men Out).

When we got started, I suspected I’d been tossed in a shark tank wearing a meat necklace. I found myself rattling on about things in my frame of reference — technology, social media, iPhones, Kindles, stuff wanting to be free — and I worried that all of it was simply chumming the waters for my fellow panelists who (a) know a lot about publishing, and (b) clearly recognized that their business models are being eroded by technologies that offer new ways to read (i.e., everything with a screen) and supply chain disintermediation, i.e. Amazon.

Side note: The weather was beautiful

Flickr photoWhenever I take a picture of him, Fish (i.e., Chris Fischbach of Coffee House) tells me: “I better not see this on the Internet.” But I just had to take this one while he and Katie (of Graywolf and New York Times fame) took me on an excellent walk along the Mississippi just before winter arrived.

As it turned out, we had a series of productive conversations. My colleagues and the audience were keen to know about how companies go about determining the right way to conceive technological products, and to implement them appropriately. Meanwhile, I learned a lot about small presses, publishing, and the ways that editors at literary presses think about their work. Allan Kornblum, the founder of Coffee House Press, saw himself as “the inheritor of the Maxwell Perkins tradition” in creating deep and lasting relationships with artists, supporting them and providing a consistent venue for publication. Fish said that he wanted “to create art objects that last.” Both of those goals make a lot of sense to me, and they seem like a firm foundation for a business in transition.

So, what is the future of reading, anyway?

I’m going to put together another post about my thoughts on this topic, and in the meantime I’m going to be digesting some of the work that my fellow panelists referenced during our discussions; this list includes Ursula Le Guin’s “Notes on the alleged decline of reading” that I saw in Patricia’s pile of notes; Michael mentioned Bill McKibben’s new book, Deep Economy in making a comparison between regional literature and a larger movement toward regional and local economies; Richard spoke a couple of times about literary subscription programs, such as Soft Skull’s annual edition, and Powell’s indiespensable list.

1 I was there because my friend Fish (the senior editor at Coffee House Press) thought that my experience with technology and online product strategy would complement the deep expertise of the small press luminaries on the panel. Or perhaps he just wanted to see what happened when I said the words “Kindle” and “free” around Michael Coffey. In the end, there would be no way of knowing.

Flickr photo



The Twin Cities are still full of good times, especially when the mercury plunges. A couple of weekends ago, I enjoyed the chill with my friends Fish, Katie and Becky (pictured, in front of the new wing at the Walker).

The highlights:

  • Vietnamese sandwiches at the Jasmine Deli on Nicollet. Their sandwiches are fabulous, especially the BBQ chicken.
  • The new and improved Walker. Twin Cities residents seem ambivalent  — some love it, others are underwhelmed — but I was really impressed with the way that the new wing blends into the old, and the manner in which they space itself still seems intimate and surprising. Plus, it’s open late on Friday nights; how great is that? The Walker’s video installations have always been great, and I was really glad to catch a few moments of Jem Cohen’s “Lost Book Found” and “Blood Orange Sky” as we walked through — worth reading: A long, detailed interview with Jem Cohen by Rhys Graham. Also, an entire room dedicated to Sherrie Levine, a cabinet full of Fluxus stuff (still cool after all these years of imitators), and a great exhibit of Huang Yong Ping that included some live spiders and scorpions.
  • Good, solid Midwestern dishes prepared Chez Panisse-style (local, organic, a little French) at Auriga. They also serve Kona coffee.
  • Weird Norweigan snacks and crazy folk-art murals at Ingebretsons, a store that sells all sorts of Scandanavian crafts and gifts. Even weirder because it’s in a somewhat bombed-out part of Lake Street.
  • A little waterfall in the middle of the city, Minnehaha Falls. Totally worth seeing, especially in winter.
  • Fish and Katie’s totally awesome 60’s-style neighborhood movie theater, The Riverview, that shows fairly new movies for THREE DOLLARS. Are you kidding me? Plus, it has been totally restored, and totally reminds me of the heyday of Kansas City’s Glenwood, which I think has recently been gutted of all the 60’s schmaltz.