Keep Reading Weird

Book lovers are strange people, and I mean that as a compliment. We are the kind of people who can walk past dozens of practical household items without blinking, but stop dead in our tracks because a book cover, title, subject, or oddly specific niche grabbed us by the collar and said, “You may need this.” We buy books for information, comfort or entertainment. Some buy for nostalgia or curiosity, and sometimes because the book simply looks like it belongs in our lives. That may not be a scientific purchasing model, but it has worked beautifully for centuries.

That is one of the reasons I love small publishers and independent creators. Big publishing has its place, of course. It gives us major releases, famous authors, polished campaigns, and enough memoirs to suggest every person with a microphone has survived a meaningful journey with a lesson meant to change the very fabric of our existence. But small publishers help keep reading interesting. We are the ones creating the odd little books, the niche guides, the practical journals, the activity books, the collector resources, and the titles that would probably make a corporate publishing committee stare blankly until someone asked whether there was a vampire version.

At Dan McGinnis Creative LLC, I have built my work around the idea that books do not have to appeal to everyone to matter. In fact, trying to appeal to everyone is a terrific way to create something bland enough to be used as emergency wallpaper or, more likely, vanish into the great abyss known as Amazon.

A book becomes more interesting when it knows exactly who it is for. A Hen on Nest collector does not need a book about every collectible ever made anymore than a trade apprentice does not need a notebook full of inspirational waterfalls and vague quotes about success. A child using a Doodlebug activity book does not need a lecture on personal growth—they need something fun, useful, age-appropriate, and preferably not boring enough to make the crayons leave the room.

Small publishers can take those chances because we are not trying to move like giant corporations. We can notice little gaps in the marketplace. We can listen to readers. We can build around specific communities, hobbies, needs, and interests. We can create a book because a small but passionate group of people might actually want it. That is not a weakness. That is the whole point.

There is something wonderfully human about a niche book. It says someone paid attention. Someone noticed that a collector needed a beginner guide. Someone realized a caregiver might need a simple daily log. Someone thought apprentices deserved practical notebooks that matched the seriousness of learning a trade. Someone believed kids still need paper, crayons, puzzles, and silly little characters to help their imaginations stretch their legs during the needed breaks from all the electronic trinkets.

That kind of publishing keeps reading weird in the best possible way. Weird does not mean sloppy. Weird does not mean random. Weird means personal, specific, curious, and alive. It means books do not all have to come from the same factory of market-tested sameness. It means there is still room for personality, humor, usefulness, nostalgia—all of which come from small creators and authors who are not constrained by corporate editors.

Readers are a big part of that ecosystem. Every time someone buys from a small publisher, shares a post, leaves a review, recommends a title, or gives a niche book as a gift, they are helping keep that variety alive. That matters more than people realize. Small publishers do not have the luxury of assuming visibility. We do not have giant advertising departments lurking in conference rooms with catered lunches and phrases like “maximize brand penetration” written on glass boards. We have readers, word of mouth, social media, reviews, and the stubborn belief that useful books can still find their audience.

There is also joy in discovering something outside the mainstream. A book does not have to be a bestseller to be meaningful. Sometimes the best book is the one that solves a small problem, explains a confusing hobby or entertains a child on a rainy afternoon. Not every title needs to shake the literary world. Some books just need to help, delight, organize, teach, or just make someone smile.

That is why book lovers matter. They keep the shelves interesting. They take chances on unfamiliar names. They explore beyond the obvious. They understand that a good book does not always arrive with a giant marketing campaign and a display table near the front door. Sometimes it arrives quietly, from a small publisher, built with care, caffeine, revisions, and the firm belief that somebody out there is going to be glad it exists.

So here is to the book lovers, the niche readers, the collectors, the parents, the teachers, the journal keepers, the activity book fans, and everyone who still believes books should be useful, interesting, funny, beautiful, and occasionally a little odd.

Keep reading weird. The world is better that way.