• Paul Constant regrets not giving Miriam Toews’s new novel,
The Flying Troutmans, more attention, as it is a delightful book
by a great author. Similarly, he should have spent more time writing
about the John Irving–like All About Lulu by Jonathan
Evison, the sad and inspiring The Word of God by Thomas Disch,
the sweet and wise Ms. Hempel Chronicles by
Sarah Shun-lien Bynum, and the meticulous and bracing memoir The
Night of the Gun by David Carr.
• Also, Paul Constant should have done more to promote the
Subtext reading series, as it is often a benchmark of good poetry
in this town. And he further regrets starting his job a week too late
to promote the reading for The Resurrection of Bert Ringgold,
which is the last book by deceased Belltown poet Harvey Goldner. Harvey
was a beautiful man in every way that mattered, and Paul Constant
misses him a great deal.
• Paul Constant regrets sounding like such a doofus when he
finally met Aimee Bender, who was and remains one of his favorite
authors. The word “um” has never been so violently regretted by a
bookish man of French-Canadian ancestry.
• It is a profound regret of Paul Constant’s that he can now
carry on deep, meaningful conversations with 13-year-old girls about
the Twilight saga, since he read them all for
an August 7 books lead.
• All of Seattle should regret the closing of the Couth
Buzzard, that great old bookstore up in Phinney Ridge.
• Although the death of Stanley Elkin is
still
regrettable, 13 years later, Paul Constant doesn’t regret getting a
very nice e-mail from Elkin’s daughter in response to his “Elkin test”
of bookstores, as described in “The Future Is Behind Us Now,” the
August 14 books lead. He will treasure that e-mail forever.
• In respect to the May 1 books lead “A Midget Among Giants,”
Paul Constant regrets not writing much more this year about Amazon.com‘s weird, libertarian refusal to
donate money to local arts organizations. It is shameful, and
Amazon should be ashamed.
• The sad little chapbook publisher who fastidiously
comments on every single one of Paul Constant’s stories about Hugo
House or poetry might regret Paul Constant—he frequently calls
for the books editor’s firing or resignation—but Paul Constant
doesn’t regret him; it’s adorable the way he gets all impotently
furious, like a tiny declawed kitten.
• Paul Constant regrets reading the following books: How
Starbucks Saved My Life, The Film Club, Love Junkie,
anything by Leon Uris and Herman Wouk, and just about every
mainstream superhero comic book.
• In a piece about science-fiction book awards, Paul Constant
claimed that the novel Light, which was released in 2006, was
writer M. John Harrison’s first novel. Harrison has been writing for
four decades; his first novel is older than Paul Constant. Paul
Constant doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with Paul
Constant.
• You, the reader, will regret it if you don’t shop at
independent bookstores. Just because Amazon has every single book
listed on its database does not make it a superior bookstore. A good
bookstore is like a thoughtful art gallery—a selection of ideas,
sort of a frame thrown onto a specific collection carefully chosen from
the infinite ideas out there in the world—and Amazon will never
be able to duplicate that singular pleasure. Paul Constant will regret
it if you don’t, some time in the next two weeks, wander into a
noncorporate bookstore and buy a book that you didn’t previously know
existed. It is a feeling not unlike falling
in love at first
sight, and you will never regret it. 
Gee, I wonder why Mr. Constant has contacted me through my MySpace page if I am just a sad, little and “bitter” [quoted from a MySpace message]chapbook publisher. Please, Seattle needs more small-press poetry publishers as I shouldn’t have to face his wrath alone. Or maybe I will.
You know Paul, most of my walls are hidden behind overflowing bookshelves, so I really want to share your romantic love of buying books in quaint bookstores, but whenever I think it through I can never find a way to glorify book consumption to make it any different than every other category of 20th Century American consumerism. I love my books, but I’m not better than someone who loves owning shelves full of Hummel figurines or closets full of shoes.
Finding a book you never heard of in a store and deciding to buy it on the spot is known as impulse buying. I’ve bought many books that way, and I assure you, I do regret most of them. My favorite books, with a handful of exceptions, were books that had come with multiple recommendations or that I had researched before buying. In a book store you are guided by packaging and maybe the opinions of one sales clerk. Your conscience tells you to hold off buying, but sometimes you can’t help yourself. I still continue to indulge in impulse purchases, and I enjoy that rush of whatever they call that brain chemical that is released when you buy things. It’s hunter-gatherer evolutionary influence, I think. I just can’t make myself believe that this habit is any kind of way to good reading choices.
The idea that only small bookstores can choose a book selection is not true. You’re talking about a reading list, that’s all. There are dozens of different categories of reading lists on Amazon, and some of them are good. The Internet offers thousands or millions of reading lists. The challenge of the 21st Century is how you sift through that blizzard of choices, but it is possible. The economic and space limits of a bookstore might serve to force the bookseller to put more thought into some of their choices, but it also forces them to carry a certain amount of commercially-viable dreck to pay the bills. The same goes for their advice: sure they love books and want you to respect them, but times are tough and they need to make a sale too.
If you’re really in it for the reading, you can put a hold or request an interlibrary loan for any book your library doesn’t have. It removes the immediate gratification and the collector’s pride you get from buying and owning, but those things are consumerist values, and before those values came along, there existed readers who loved reading, and after consumerism has faded, reading and readers will still be around.
I’m all for celebrating the love of physical booksellers and paper books, as much as we should celebrate kitschy 50’s Danish modern furniture or beautiful designer shoes. I’m only saying that is a separate thing from the underlying literary experience, and literature can thrive without being printed on paper and sold in stores.
Paul, I just wanted to leave you a thank you note for all your great writing on reading; it’s my favorite part of the Stranger.
I could not find a review by you about The Film Club. Why did you regret reading it. It’s not weighty, but I didn’t find it to be a regrettable read.
It’s more the tale about the challenges of raising kids, but I still enjoyed it.
Hiya Paul. Thanks for a great year of writing about reading! Looking forward to next year, hopefully there will be the same number of small bookstores and fewer petty feuds.
I was the lucky slogger at slog happy who, at the end of the night, walked out of there with “How Starbucks Saved My Life.” So far, it’s about white guilt…
Gee, I liked “Marjorie Morningstar”…
elenchos, thank you. You said exactly what I wanted to say, but much more eloquently than I could have. I am an avid reader, but I only buy books that I have already read and love so much I need to be able to reread them at a moment’s notice. I encounter perhaps one book a year that falls into that category.
Paul, many thanks for your great writing over the past year. I rarely notice who writes articles or blog posts, but I always look for your name in the Stranger and on Slog and I find myself telling people about your writing often. I hope you keep this job for a long long time.
Thanks, guys, for your kind comments. I really do appreciate it. Happy New Year to all.
@CA: I read Film Club back in January, before I got my job here, and that’s why I didn’t write about it. Maybe it’s different if you’re a parent, but that guy just struck me as a jerk who was more interested in being clever than raising his child. My regret for reading it was different than the other books on the list: It just made me feel vaguely bad about life and any possibility of becoming a parent.
@ Elenchos and rrr: This year, with its abysmal retail Christmas, I think it might be necessary to think about shopping in bookstores as something like an NPR pledge drive: Something to do because it’s the right thing to do, and you’re making a contribution to the culture. I totally understand what you’re both saying, but I do think that bookstores need a little extra love this year. What they do for Seattle is immeasurable, and I don’t know of a single bookstore (besides Amazon) that did well this year for Christmas. I get free books mailed to me every day, and I still spend probably a hundred bucks a month in bookstores. But I’m kind of a freak and an addict in that respect. Now is the time, though, for everyone to help out financially, if they can.
Dear Paul,
Thanks for your support of locally owned, independent and as you so eloquently stated, noncorporate bookstores. As a bookstore owner for 23 years, there is very little good news out there regarding our economic survival. We do need the help of our communities in order to continue to support local writers and local causes (like literacy and school auctions). Bookstores are still great places to interact with others over literature. I witness many such conversations and I cannot believe there is no difference between buying books and buying shoes. Thanks also for mentioning Jonathan Evison’s book. All About Lulu is a Santoro’s Books staff favorite.
Keep up the good work.
Best, Carol at Santoro’s Books
I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Based on what I’ve told you, do you think that a part time phone sex gig would or would not be a positive move for me?