The Death of Paperbacks?

I've been keeping my mouth shut on a hot-button issue that’s been gnawing at me: the death of paperbacks! More specifically, the impending extinction of mass-market paperbacks. It’s all thanks to an utterly bewildering decision by Readerlink, the behemoth that decided it would be best for the entire publishing world to stop distributing those beloved, pocket-sized paperbacks by the end of 2025. Naturally, the BookTok crowd erupted with glee, claiming they can’t stand mass-market paperbacks because they’re too inconvenient for their “sensitive” hands and that they’re a blight on the aesthetic landscape of literature. I can’t help but cringe at the thought that these so-called book lovers may not even be articulating their true feelings. They seem to be riding whatever wave is trending, which might explain their penchant for recommending literary disasters to the masses. Watching the dumbing down of today’s youth is a grim spectacle indeed, and it’s happening right before our very eyes.

To be fair, I get why Readerlink is making this move; sales have plummeted to the point that distributing mass-market paperbacks is simply not worth the headache. So now we’re left with trade and premium paperbacks, while the market teeters on the brink of unveiling a new paperback size—if that ever happens. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll witness a glorious resurgence of mass-market paperbacks—until then, readers in the U.S. who cherished them for their unique cover art, convenient size, and budget-friendly prices are forced to fork over more cash for larger formats that gobble up space and drain our wallets. What really grinds my gears is the sad reality of my local landscape: no bookstores in sight, just Walmart, where the book sections have shrunk considerably since the pandemic. And with the removal of mass-market titles, our choices dwindle even further; the shelves will be crowded not with classics or favorite genres, but with titles that are trending on BookTok, gathering dust for weeks or even months until an employee gets around to restocking.

So, is this the death of paperbacks? Not quite. There will always be some form of paperback. The real question looming over us is, “Will anyone even buy paperbacks?” Reading is becoming a lost art in the U.S.A., thanks to an educational system that’s teetering on the brink of collapse. Kids can’t write in cursive; some can’t even manage their own signatures. High schoolers are emerging with illiteracy rates that are more alarming than ever. This hits hard in a political context, but let’s lay blame where it belongs—both sides of the aisle have neglected education for decades. We need leaders who actually prioritize children’s education and focus on the kind of reading materials that inspire a love for literature—not the soulless snippets we thumb through on our screens.

Now, back to the gripes about the mass-market paperback size. If a novel skews long in word count, the text either shrinks to a nearly illegible size or the pages balloon out, making it a Herculean task to keep the book open—awkward to hold, to say the least. I can empathize with the younger crowd on that point. Personally, I’ve grown up with paperbacks, so I’m a little too old to find their size daunting; I've always managed to hold onto my trusty books without much fuss—though I’ll admit, small print is a challenge that tests my patience and the limits of my eyesight.

Mass-market paperbacks evoke a flood of nostalgia for me. I can still remember having a used dog-eared paperback or two stuffed into my bookbag during my middle school and junior high years, and the sheer joy of sliding a paperback into my back pocket or jacket pocket in high school. They were my steadfast companions, always there in moments of boredom or solitude, rarely letting me down.

Oh, how I could wax poetic about the glorious covers of yesteryear! Back when publishers poured creativity and care into making covers that would jump out and grab your attention off the racks. I’d love to delve into my distaste for modern covers, but let's leave that for another tirade.

My collection of mass-market titles spans the decades—some vintage, some fresh—covering genres from horror and thrillers to westerns, with names like Stephen King, Dean Koontz, John Saul, William W. Johnstone, Louis L'Amour, Max Brand, and Zane Grey, to name just a few. And don’t get me started on the tie-in books: Star Trek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Star Wars—each a cherished artifact of my youth. The movie novelizations I devoured during my childhood are landmarks of nostalgia, echoing a time when reading was a rite of passage. A special shout-out to the middle-grade and YA horror tales of my youth, crafted by the greats like R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike, that sparked my imagination and led me into this strange and beautiful world of books.

Mass-market paperbacks have been around since 1939. Why toss aside such a beloved format now? Why not revitalize it, perhaps even lower prices for future generations? The question remains: what’s the future going to hold? Only time will tell, but my heart aches at the thought of losing these treasures forever. This is just my little take on the impending demise of mass-market paperbacks. I’d love to hear other book lovers’ thoughts on this unfolding tragedy.

⁓B.J. Burgess