I still remember the first time I ducked into a tiny bookshop on a rainy afternoon — the bell over the door, the smell of paper and tea, a cat stretched across a stack of travel guides. It felt like an accidental sanctuary: a place where time slowed and the choices on the shelves seemed curated by a human who had read them, not an algorithm. Those small shops have been quietly disappearing from town centers and side streets for years. I’ve watched familiar windows turn into coffee chains, yoga studios, or empty units with "To Let" signs. Each closure feels like a small erasure of shared memory and civic texture.
What’s behind the decline?
The reasons are layered and familiar: rising rents, the convenience and huge selection of online retailers, changing reading habits, and the economics of scale that favor big chains and warehouses. But there are subtler forces too. Publishers consolidate, distribution margins shrink, and the economics of returns and unknown demand make it risky for a small owner to stock long-tail titles. Add in the pandemic’s blow to foot traffic and many independent shops that were already marginally viable were pushed over the edge.
There’s also a cultural shift. People increasingly discover books through social media — TikTok’s #BookTok has created overnight hits — and while that can help some indie sales, it channels attention through a narrow set of influencers and hot titles. Physical browsing, the serendipity of finding something because you lingered in a shop, is less common when discovery happens on a screen. Meanwhile, municipal policies and zoning often prioritize high-turnover retail and tourist-facing enterprises over community-oriented spaces.
Why small bookstores matter beyond selling books
It’s tempting to reduce a bookstore to inventory and profit margins, but they do a kind of cultural work that’s not easily captured in a balance sheet.
The loss of these functions hurts communities in ways that extend beyond books sold. It erodes public spaces where ideas are exchanged and where readers and writers — both aspiring and established — can find support.
Realistic ways to support small bookstores (that actually work)
Supporting indies often gets boiled down to "buy from them." That’s true, but there are smarter, realistic actions that go beyond occasional purchases and create sustainable benefit.
Spend with intention
When you need a book, check the shop’s website or call first. Many independents offer local delivery, click-and-collect, or will order a title for you. If you’d normally spend £20 on a book through a big online retailer, allocate that spend to the local shop instead. If price is the barrier, wait for a sale or buy used copies — many independents also sell secondhand books.
Use them for services
Bookshops can do more than sell new releases. They can gift-wrap, provide curated recommendations for presents, and act as distribution points for local zines and small publishers. I’ve used bookstores to assemble gift bundles (book + local gin or tea) for friends — a higher-margin, personal service that benefits both the shop and the recipient.
Attend events and bring friends
Events are often loss-leaders for shops but generate footfall and community goodwill. Show up for readings, book clubs, or children’s storytimes. If a talk costs £5, consider it an investment in the shop’s visibility. Bring friends — even one extra person increases the chance someone buys something.
Buy memberships, gift cards, or subscriptions
Many indies offer membership models (discounts, invites to preview sales) or book-subscription boxes. A friend’s subscription to a local shop made them a consistent monthly buyer and let the shop plan inventory. If you can afford it, buy a gift card and use it over time — it injects cash immediately.
Promote them online
A quick post tagging the shop, a five-star review on Google, or a photo on Instagram can do real work. Algorithms reward engagement. I’ve watched small posts lead to unexpected sales when a shop’s event gets reshared by broader networks. Share specific recommendations rather than generic praise: say what you loved and why.
Encourage local institutions to partner
Schools, libraries, and community centers can create contracts with independent booksellers for bulk purchases, prizes, and reading programs. If your local PTA or library is soliciting quotes, suggest including a nearby indie in the bid. I once convinced a community center to buy children's packs from a nearby shop — the shop offered teacher discounts and delivered bundles, and the center saved on administration while supporting a local business.
Think beyond books: rent their space
Many shops have a backroom or a weekday quiet corner. Offer to hold a small workshop there (a writing group, a zine-making session, a language exchange) and contribute a fee. It brings people into the store and creates regular community use.
Advocate for supportive policy
On a civic level, small businesses need zoning and tax policies that recognize cultural value. Support campaigns for reduced business rates for cultural enterprises, or for pop-up business grants that allow independent booksellers to try out new locations without crippling rent. Attend council meetings or sign petitions when local policy threatens a shop’s viability.
Combine forces with others
Form or join a local "friends of the bookshop" group. Collective buying, coordinated events across multiple shops, or neighborhood literary festivals amplify visibility. In one town I visited, a weekend “book crawl” recreates the energy of a pub crawl but routes people through indie shops; it’s low-cost and boosts sales dramatically.
Practical small habits that add up
When I moved back to a neighborhood with a small bookshop, I made a point of stopping in every week. Sometimes I bought nothing. Other times I bought a secondhand novel and a new biography. I attended a poetry reading and recommended the shop to a new neighbor who was looking for gardening manuals. These small, repeated gestures mattered more than any single grand gesture. For shops that operate on thin margins, consistency can be the difference between survival and closure.
Small bookstores are not memorials to a bygone era; they’re adaptable, human-scale institutions that can thrive if communities and policy-makers recognize their value and act with intention. They require not just transactions, but relationships — repeated visits, local collaborations, and advocacy. If you care about the texture of your high street and the diversity of voices you encounter, supporting the nearby bookshop is one of the most practical cultural investments you can make.