Since my last post in April, I’ve moved north to Edinburgh and in-between finishing a screenplay and getting it sent out (only a year after the initial invitation…), looking for some sort of book-related job I can devote some time to and getting settled into a new life, I’ve had some time to sneak a peek at some of the cultural events going on around the vibrant capital of Scotland.

It didn’t take long*.

For a country that celebrated ten years of devolution last week (albeit by inviting a foreign monarch** to give a speech in its parliament), there seems to be a surprising lack of ambition here.  As a superb example, there is no better place to start than the degree show recently held at Edinburgh College of Art.  If you didn’t know it was a degree show, you would believe – political correctness aside – that this was an exhibition of work by people with (very) special needs***.

After seeing every single graduate student’s work, we had counted just four artists who could provide evidence that they could hold a pencil or brush.  Surely, a prerequisite for being considered as qualified in any given subject is being able to demonstrate a minimum standard in technical skills.  You only need a moderate amount of experience of painting on canvas, for instance, to know that you do not put acrylic over oil paint when creating a ‘mixed medium’ work.  It is nothing to do with the correctness or historical basis of technique but simply the limitations of the materials: acrylic is a water-based medium and should not be placed over oil as we saw demonstrated by one particular retard.

This is not being snide or overly-critical: there is a recession engulfing the world’s economies and even those individuals with wealth are not going to part with it to purchase an inferior product.

Of the four artists with technical skill, only two demonstrated an ability to market themselves and their works and with it, a commercial sensitivity to the world around them.  Artists locked in garrets suffering for their art do not eat because they do not sell their works: they do not sell their works because the wider world does not come to an appreciation of the artist’s work.

The failure is not that of the students.  When I was still at school, I was taken to see my first degree show exhibition.  My first visit to Glasgow School of Art has left an indelible impression on me: it appeared to have given their graduating students everything they would need to thrive in a commercially cut-throat world where galleries need to sell a lot of work to not only remain profitable but to continue showcasing art.

‘So?’ you may be asking.  Why this comment on a blog about books?  Why indeed.

One of the artists with technical skill and commercial awareness is already seeing her illustrations in books for children.  If writing for children is much harder than it at first appears then how much more difficult is illustrating a text in a way that allows children to improve their comprehension not only of the narrative in front of them but reading more generally?

Step forward Lucy McCririck.  Among Lucy’s display was a little note which spelled out why Lucy was a natural talent for children’s illustration.  She explained that children do not see in the same way as adults and are not so concerned with accuracy in representation but in the small details.

If there is any justice in fate, then Lucy should have a great future.  If anyone from Puffin, Bloomsbury, Macmillan or Orchard is reading this, I would suggest getting in touch with the artist.  Her website is here.

* – by which I mean that there’s so much commercially-oriented toward Tourons that there’s little left for thinking folk like you and me.

** – for those fond of historical accuracy, ‘Queen’ Elizabeth II isn’t even the monarch of England as the descendants of the Plantagenets are alive and well and living in Australia.  For those fond of conspiracy theories, when being crowned on Jacob’s Pillow aka The Stone of Destiny, you are supposed to stand on it.  At Scone, the former capital of Scotland.  Furthermore, there was never any such thing as ‘King of Scotland’.  The correct title is ‘King of Scots’, an honorific title which acknowledges the various kingdoms in Scotland.  Not that any of that matters now since this.

*** – OK, fair point: what gives me the right to make judgement, especially my promise on an earlier post to never give a negative review of books?  See this?  I painted that.  I didn’t go to art school.  I sat down and taught myself to paint and not for commercial gain, simply for something to do when I’m not selling books.

…is currently running (at 30%) as the favourite slogan to replace ‘I *heart* books’ as the slogan for the UK book trade.

The industry trade magazine, The Bookseller, has the survey on its home page.  Anyone can vote, so if you want to, just click on the link and scroll down to the bottom of the page.

Other options being voted for include:

• Books meanz brains
• Bookalicious
• The Katie Price is right

I chose ‘Hooked on Books’ as the name for this blog to reflect the history of Worthing where this blog was first established to better represent books and book reviews to the many loyal customers of Methvens Booksellers, Worthing.  Fishing was a key industry at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century in Worthing (it sits on the Sussex coast just along the shore from Brighton for those that don’t know) and it just seemed obvious to marry that local history to what we then saw as a key part of the modern community: the local independent bookshop.

Incidentally, ‘methvenite’ – which you’ll see is part of the blog’s web address – is (now ‘was’) the in-house term for any member of staff who worked for Methvens (or, such was the extended family-feel to the company, their most loyal fans – what other companies call regular customers).

Thanks to Colin for spotting this and letting me know.

…and if that means naff all to you then that is simply a sign of how unsuccessful this venture capital business was in reaching beyond the core (and profitable) business of independent bookselling.  Fuelled by cheap loans against the diminutive assets of two High Street shops, this company has become another casualty of banks withholding their investors and savers cash from people who forget the golden rules of borrowing that they were likely never taught in childhood: if you want it, save for it (also known more generously in business school as: Never Borrow More Than You Can Repay).

Venture capital is of course no more than popular parlance suggests: asset stripping.  Using two independent High Street bookshops to underwrite the heavy investment required to get a new media Web 2.0 corporation built from scratch to world domination was always going to end in tears.  Unfortunately, those who knew better and who were recruited or bought in with their expertise did not listen to the very staff who now find themselves out on the street without (a) being served notice of redundancy and (b) their March pay cheques.

ArgentVive has been put into administration and the staff are still awaiting to hear not only if they will have jobs to return to in the next few weeks (they can’t claim any benefit until they are officially notified one way or the other) but whether or not they will be paid for work already done.  There are several parties interested in buying the shop because – good news – Methvens Booksellers has not only been profitable but despite receiving no new stock since January 1st has continued to enjoy support from a broad, loyal customer base.  Methvens Booksellers in Worthing may yet be lucky (and the support building on Facebook since the announcement on March 23rd suggests a canny investor could cut themselves a very good deal).  Other bookshops will not be lucky in the coming year and I’m sure that even the large bookchain, Waterstones, will be looking at the closure of some under-performing branches.

There is trouble ahead and not just for the affected, hard-working staff caught-up in each closure. Bookselling is not like other highly-skilled sales jobs: there is no commission.  Employees, usually trained to graduate-level, work for standard retail pay in an industry they love, sharing that passion with customers and over time, forge strong links with local communities.  Methvens Booksellers has over the years, for instance, provided invaluable assistance to local schools in advising teachers about the resources available to teach children.  Methvens Booksellers in Worthing has not only supported the launch of books by local independently-published authors but independent publishers too.

The closure of independent booksellers is often dismissed as a necessity of the free-market forces of capitalism but when profitable bookshops are being put into administration something is surely amiss.  And what then happens when allied industries are no longer able to support publishers?  Will publishers then belatedly review their links with Amazon and the large supermarkets?  The vast majority of regular readers – both fiction and non-fiction – do not read books ‘written’ by celebrities but instead read a vast range of lesser known works that are the proverbial bread-and-butter for publishers large and small.  As a publisher, relying on getting your book – your product – seen by potential customers through Amazon’s recommendation (other customers who bought this, also bought this and blah) is absurd if you wish to produce sustainable profitability.  You could argue that the reason potential customers are browsing that particular book on Amazon in the first place is because it was seen in a bookshop.

Beyond this, the publishing industry simply could not cope without a steady drip-feed of the talent nurtured in bookshops entering its ranks.

As a publisher, do you think you can rely on potential growth in ebooks?  Think again.  I know of very tech-literate people who have bought a Kindle and/ or an eReader of the type sold in Waterstones.  The Kindle was sold on by one friend after just two weeks; another’s eReader lies dormant (because ‘…the page-turn just doesn’t feel right.’ Well, who knew?)  Booklovers love books and that means browsing, that means holding a solid book in your hands, that means holding on to the profitable independent bookshops that we have left and to do that…

…requires responsible investment and not the crass pillaging nonsense that was demonstrated by ArgentVive’s private equity asset-stripping backers.

James Pearson, staff member at Methvens Booksellers in Worthing, had this to say in The Bookseller magazine about the shop being put into administration and the effect on the staff.