You’re probably wondering – as I would be were I on the other end of the internet – what is up with this title. Well, I’ll tell you. It’s a bookstore, you silly goose. When was the last time you were in an actual bookshop? My last visit was to The Strand, one of the world’s greatest places, several weeks ago. But still, that’s not the last time I purchased a book. (The last time was from my frequent vendor, Better World Books.)

A few days ago, the lovely folks over at Brevity blogged about a new policy instituted by the fine literary journal Tin House. In a bold and excellent move, called Buy a Book, Save a Bookstore, Tin House is currently requiring all literary submissions to be accompanied by a receipt from the purchase of a book at an actual brick and mortar bookstore. Hell yes, Tin House. Further, they encourage the submitter to tell/show/illustrate a brief story surrounding either the purchase or why the purchase is impossible, if that’s the case. This request is hilarious.

There have apparently been mixed reactions to this so let’s discuss. (Omg. Look at these reactions.)

• 1. Charity/Good Will Factor

Everyone in this circle is connected. Journals need writers to fill their pages as well as bookstores to sell their products. Writers need readers, publishers and bookstores to share their ideas. Bookstores need journals, books, writers and readers. Etc. So it’s logical, I’d say, to find ways to connect value between venues in order to keep the system afloat, particularly in today’s world where any clown can publish her writing, say, on a blog.

• 2. Let’s Call It Filtering

Whatever the feeling on the policy, it will almost certainly filter out some group of writers (or typers). Whenever a consumer has to pay for something, a value is attached to the purchase. It’s no different here, where the writer has to consider what the reading of her work is worth. If it’s not worth $15 or $20, it’s probably not worth submitting.

• 3. If You Can Afford the Internet to Read the Policy, You Can Afford a Book

This is snooty, I confess. It’s conceivable that a person use the internet for free (perhaps at a university or library) and borrow all her books from the library. I even imagine I’d like this person. So, if this is you, then certainly you’d have humor enough to create some sort of interesting submission with perhaps exceedingly funny details about why you cannot possibly buy a book. Of course, these expenses can add up for the emerging writer especially. I’d then suggest the purchase of a used book.

• 4. Good Writers Read a Crapload

For example, in Ander Monson’s newest non-memoir/whatever, he cites something like 50 books read for the making of one short essay. 50 books, one essay. This is just an example, and maybe an extreme one. But in order to write well, one must be aware of her surroundings so to speak. Who is writing in a similar genre or of similar subject matter? How does the craft differ from your own? What do you add to the cultural dialogue? Personally, I like to own my books. Reading them is a kind of love affair and I couldn’t stand to part with them thereafter.

• 5. Of Interesting Note

Rob Spillman, editor of Tin House, notes that the journal receives over 1,500 submissions per month of people presumably looking to be published. While the journal of course needs writing in order to exist, I feel comfortable in the assumption that over 1,500 people per month are not subscribing to T-H. Yet contributors hope to be published. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to ask support of the circle we are invested in.

In rereading some comments about the policy, we might note that contributors (or would-be) might maintain a sense of humor here. Is this really a big deal? If a writer truly cannot afford the book or on principle opposes it, then be creative in a submission. Be funny. Make the editors laugh. I’m willing to bet if the writing is spectacular, they won’t turn it down.

Enough quacking. In support of the journal, I’ve just subscribed.