Are black-owned bookstores in their final chapter?

Medu Bookstore

Greenbriar Mall. 2841 Greenbriar Parkway SW, Atlanta. 404-346-3263, medubookstore.com/

Shrine of the Black Madonna Bookstore

946 Ralph David Abernathy Blvd., Atlanta. 404-549-8676, www.cbpm.org/shrineofblackmadonna.html

Whenever someone walks into the Nubian Bookstore in Morrow, Marcus Williams’ radar goes up.

Usually, and this brisk Tuesday is no exception, customers walk directly to the store’s clothing section to peruse the collection of Greek and Masonic paraphernalia — bypassing the books.

Williams, who has owned Nubian for 16 years, watches which organization the customer is shopping for. Then he rummages through a pile of scarves behind the counter and discreetly places the corresponding one on the counter.

“I got some scarves,” he says.

He has much more than that. At Nubian, aside from clothes, you can find DVDs, journals, Bible holders, greeting cards and, oh yeah, books.

“I don’t focus mainly on books,” Williams said. “I have to find other products that are in high demand. If I was just selling books, I would have gone out of business a long time ago.”

Williams is one of the lucky ones. More than 200 black-owned bookstores have closed nationwide since 2002, according to a national survey conducted by Troy Johnson of the African American Literature Book Club.

For decades, black-owned bookstores filled a niche in predominantly black neighborhoods, offering literature that could be hard to find elsewhere. Now nearly anyone can buy nearly any book by ordering online. And bookstore chains, as well as discount superstores, sell all types of books. No longer is it necessary to visit black-owned bookstores to find black-authored literature.

Johnson said there are only about 50 black-owned bookstores left in America. In metro Atlanta, not counting stores at historically black colleges, the Nubian is one of only three stores remaining — along with the Shrine of the Black Madonna on the West End and Medu Bookstore in Greenbriar Mall.

“It is astonishing how many have closed,” Johnson said. “It is very difficult to maintain an independent bookstore when customers can buy anything in the inventory online, quickly and less expensively.”

Johnson fears black bookstores are in a “death-spiral.”

“Honestly, I think we are reaching that point where none of them will exist,” he said. “I hope I am wrong.”

A cultural loss

With the closing of so many black bookstores, black authors, who depended on them to promote their work and develop a fan base, are left scrambling for an outlet to market their books.

When Eric Jerome Dickey’s debut novel, “Sister, Sister,” came out in 1996, none of the big box stores wanted to host him for a reading. But a black couple who owned a bookstore in St. Louis took a chance on him.

“They hand-sold the book for three weeks. So there were 25 people there for my first reading and they had all read the book,” said Dickey, who has since written nearly 30 books. “When I started out, I could do a reading in L.A., go through the South and to New York just doing African-American bookstores. If we didn’t have the African-American independent bookstores, a lot of us would not have been able to start our careers.”

Dickey is now a highly successful author. He has achieved what Atlanta author Kenni York is striving to accomplish.

“In our little African-American literary community it is so hard to get your name out there,” said York, 32. “For the big authors, major bookstores are clamoring to get them. But not everybody is saying ‘lets get the newbies.’”

York, who has written 14 books — mostly urban fiction, said she has had a few signings at chains, but the reception she gets has been mixed.

“It depends on the locations,” York said. “Some of them, once they hear the book title or see the genre, will just brush me off.”

Her greatest success, she said, has been at places like Medu, where she has held several signings.

“Marcus is open to all authors,” York said about Nubian. “He is friendly and kind about letting new authors come in and get exposure. Some other stores, even black ones, are not as receptive.”

Now with such stores so few and far between, “it is like losing part of the culture,” said romance novelist Beverly Jenkins.

Tools for transformation

One of the oldest black-owned bookstores in the country is The Shrine of the Black Madonna, which opened in Atlanta in 1975.

“Our goal is to transform ghettos into positive communities,” manager Ewa OmoOba said. “To breathe life into them. Part of that hope and vision comes in the form of a community bookstore. We offer the tools for transformation.”

When the Shrine opened, Atlanta was defined by walkable, ethnic neighborhoods. That is no longer the case. Located along busy Ralph David Abernathy Boulevard, the Shrine has very little walk-up traffic.

All three bookstores rely heavily on creative ways to get people in the doors, such as maintaining active online communities and hosting book signings by black authors or providing spaces for workshops and meetings.

“This has always been the model for the Shrine,” OmoOba said. “We are a bookstore and cultural center. That view is expansive and our inventory needs to be expansive. Someone once said that people still want to hear black spirituals from black mouths. People want the authentic experience that we offer.”

But only half of the Shrine’s massive space is devoted to books. The rest is taken up with the sale of African-American artwork and the now-closed African Holocaust Museum.

Power of the word

When Nia Damali opened Medu Bookstore in Greenbriar Mall in 1989, many people, friends included, waved it off as a hobby.

“People didn’t take us seriously,” Damali said. “They looked at chains as true bookstores. People used to come in and ask, ‘Is there a real bookstore in the mall?’”

People don’t ask that anymore.

Of the three local black bookstores, Medu is the only one in a mall, granting it precious foot traffic.

And while the Nubian markets its clothing and the Shrine sells art, the main draw at Medu remains books.

There are titles old and new, from Langston Hughes’ “The Big Sea” to the hot “The Book of Negroes.” For good measure, Medu even has a healthy stash of mainstream best-sellers such as “50 Shades of Grey.”

“I try hard to stay focused on what Medu is all about — books,” Damali said, noting that Medu means “power of the word” in the ancient Egyptian language Medu Neter.

“A lot of large chains look at numbers. But this is my livelihood. This is what I love,” Damali said. “But it has not been without struggle. Some days are lean.”

Williams takes the opposite approach of Damali. He’s all about diversifying his inventory at Nubian.

Semi-regular customer Courtney Villere Jones walks in and goes directly to the clothing section. She is looking for a Delta Sigma Theta visor. Williams tells her that the visors are not in season yet.

She leaves the store without a visor or a book.

But she does buy a crimson Delta scarf.