Title Fight

As the host of more than 250 author events a year, Rainy Day Books brings as much culture to the city as the symphony or the ballet. The Fairway store has coordinated the local appearances of scores of novelists, historians, diplomats and master chefs.

A Rainy Day event earlier this year made national headlines when a resentful Kansas City veteran spat tobacco juice on Jane Fonda’s cheek and blouse as the actress signed copies of her new memoir.

Many cherished the events, which were almost always free and open to the public (usually at Unity Temple on the Plaza), as a perk of city living.

But in a change that has irked some, since June 1 Rainy Day has made the purchase of a visiting writer’s latest title a condition of admission to all events.

“We do have to pay our bills, and that’s what we’re doing,” says Roger Doeren, Rainy Day’s chief operations officer, who says the change is necessary at a time when independent bookstores continue to close in droves. Doeren says Rainy Day is also under pressure from publishers, who won’t include Kansas City on major book tours unless a stop here results in substantial book sales.

But the new policy is also something of an experiment. Stores in other cities do not typically require a purchase at their author events.

“For the most part, we like our events to be free,” says Carrie Robb, the events coordinator at Left Bank Books in St. Louis.

“It’s just something we do for our customers and the community,” says Michael Drannen, the events man at Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon.

Left Bank, Powell’s and other independent bookstores have watched the business change dramatically in recent years. The prices and convenience offered by such outlets as Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble seduce even consumers who make it a point to buy from local merchants. Vivien Jennings, the founder and president of Rainy Day, says indie bookstores have disappeared by the thousands. “It’s just shocking how many have gone down,” she says.

Rainy Day’s predicament is perhaps unique. Located in a suburban strip center, the store is not a destination, like Powell’s or Tattered Cover in the historic Lower Downtown section of Denver. Rainy Day sells no coffee, and the small showroom (2,500 square feet) does not lend itself to intense browsing, cruising for dates or other activities pursued by the modern book buyer.

Rainy Day’s narrow confines affect the author events as well. The Fairway store can accommodate only minor events. Everything else has to be staged at Unity or another venue able to handle crowds.

Putting on an event off-site costs Rainy Day additional time and money and eliminates the opportunity to sell inventory to a captive audience. “When we’ve hosted an event off-site, I’ve been disappointed in sales,” says Charles Stillwagon, the events coordinator at Tattered Cover, which operates two locations in Denver that can seat 300 or more. Drannen says Powell’s is pondering a stricter admissions policy on the rare occasions it has to rent a venue.

Though it’s at a disadvantage, Rainy Day runs its author events with great care. When author Robert James Waller appeared at Unity on a recent evening, Doeren made quick strides as he moved from task to task. At one point, he arranged small boxes of truffles, a parting gift for the 50 or so people who came to see Waller, into a tidy ziggurat.

The event began at 7 p.m. Doeren figured that by the time he returned the unsold copies to the store and finished paperwork, he would not get to bed until 1:30 or 2 a.m.

Doeren is Jennings’ business partner as well as her companion. Jennings founded the store nearly 30 years ago. A youthful-looking grandmother of five, Jennings has short, graying hair and wears eyeglass frames shaped like circles. She does not wish to retire or do anything else. Reading is her passion, she says, and she derives the most satisfaction from helping customers find a book that delights or informs.

“Myself, I love this business, and I will do what it takes to stay in this business,” she says.

The folks who work at Rainy Day appear to enjoy their status as tastemakers. The staff selections occupy a prominent space — a large shelf near the front door of the shop. Jennings and Doeren host a book show on classical station KXTR 1660.

Jennings and Doeren insist that they are booksellers first, but changes in the industry have forced them to master another art: event promotion.

Rainy Day started holding regular author events ten years ago. The first big name was Anne Rice, writer of Interview With the Vampire. Rainy Day held the Rice event at the Alexander Majors House on State Line Road. Costumed characters mingled among the crowd. Valets parked cars. Rice signed books for six hours.

Jennings and Doeren say they decided on the new admissions policy after listening to publishing houses warn of more austere tour budgets. Larry Kirshbaum, CEO of the Time Warner book group, tells the Pitch that publishers are being more selective about where they send their authors.

“We don’t want events where we go through all the operational details and then we walk away with ten copies sold,” Kirshbaum says. “That does not make economic sense. It only serves to anger the authors, who feel they’ve wasted their time.”

Rainy Day first tried to increase sales at events by requiring that autograph seekers buy books from the store. When that policy proved awkward, the decision to tie admission to purchases was made. The admittance-allowing titles must be bought from Rainy Day, not from a discount-prone superstore or online seller. The purchase of the book merits one or two tickets to the events, depending on the popularity of the writer.

Jennings says the store has received only half a dozen complaints about the new policy. People interested in the events seem to understand that Rainy Day is a business, she says. Also, it’s not as if folks leave the events empty-handed. “You’re getting the book,” Jennings says.

Kirshbaum cheers Rainy Day’s new tack. “I think it’s important to establish precedent that these authors are not just there to entertain or edify people, that we want to sell books,” he says. “The price is pretty cheap, considering what a hardcover book goes for and the amount of entertainment value you get from it.”

Rainy Day, Kirshbaum adds, has few rivals when it comes to attracting authors to a city of relatively small size.

Not everyone is happy about the new admissions policy, however. Cindy Craig, manager of the Studio, a knitting and needlepoint store near the Plaza, believes the purchase requirement hurt the turnout for Debbie Stoller, the author of Stitch ‘n Bitch Nation, who appeared at Unity in June. The Studio promoted the event.

Craig tells the Pitch she heard customers complain about having to buy the book in order to hear Stoller speak. Stitch ‘n Bitch Nation was published last November, so many Stoller fans had bought the book in advance of a visit originally scheduled for January. Craig says some people offered to buy other books of similar value but were denied admittance without a receipt for the new title.

Craig says she will think twice before helping to promote a future Rainy Day event. The policy, she says, is “almost like cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

The store’s new approach is in some ways a consequence of Rainy Day’s inability to leave Fairway Shops for something grander. The store is a well-run operation. But it’s not a Powell’s-like local institution that can easily survive in an age when Target sells the new Harry Potter book at a 40-percent discount.

Jennings says publishers are telling independent stores that they need sidelines to supplement book sales lost to the Internet and the chains. “To me, that’s scary,” she says. “It’s basically saying, ‘You may not make it in the book world.'”

But Jennings has been unwilling to diversify.

“I know books,” she says. “I love books, and that’s what I want to sell. I don’t want to sell wineglasses. I don’t want to sell robes.”

Jennings turned 60 in March. She’s at a point in her career when she wonders if her efforts have made a difference. She believes bookselling has a certain nobility. “In a democracy, you have to have an enlightened and educated populace,” she says.

And with the new ticket policy, the price of enlightenment just went up.