James Patterson books are an invasive species humans brought into library shelf environments because we wanted fast-reproducing, easily-digestible food. But at the time, we didn’t know as much about their natural airport environment, which has very few available nutrients. This environment greatly favours the genericalist species like Patterson, so there’s very little bibliodiversity compared to the more specialized library or bookstore environment. This means that each species in an airport has an enormously expanded niche compared to just about anywhere else books can thrive - in their natural habitat, Patterson books may be one of only 3 or 4 species competing for available nutrients. In these low-density, low-nutrient environments, Patterson books occupy vast swathes of territory without bothering other species. This history makes it extremely easy for them to outcompete the more specialized inhabitants of the library shelf, who have often been carefully selected to fill ultraspecific subgenre niches.
Left unweeded, Patterson books will expand their territory over multiple book bays, crowding out or even straight-up eliminating space for competitors and sending contributor-author runners out to other shelves. Contained to a single, planned set of shelves and kept strictly pruned, Patterson books can contribute to a healthy ecosystem. But many curators don’t know or don’t care to do the planning and maintenance, leading to the nightmare of overcrowding and loss of circulation.
Fortunately the forces of airport bibliodiversity in recent decades appear to have been attempting to balance these tendencies by supporting the increased presence of @neil-gaiman works. These propagate by employing both much-enhanced multimedia presence (which the B. pattersonis species and subspecies notably lack) to co-opt and redistribute shelf ecosystems, and also a unique author(!)-instigated reader attraction mechanism based on random ink signatures (”autographs”) which act in the idiosyncratic manner routinely associated with negative reinforcement to atypically increase reader interest in such works when visiting the airport bookstore environment.
Due to the recent cross-media increase in the range and spread of the numerous B. gaimanii subspecies (presently most notably B. gaimanii sinefini and B. gaimanii omeniboni-duum x Pratchett), there is good hope that the more invasive aspects of the encroachment of B. pattersonis may become less of a danger to the bibliosystem in years to come. We have no choice, of course, but to “wait and see”.
I wish this were true. Alas, on my last tour of the USA in April and May I discovered that post Covid, bookshelf space in airports has shrunk to an extent I found hard to believe. (Shelf and display space is always finite. Right now there are lots of things for sale that weren’t for sale pre-Covid. They occupy space that formerly belonged to books.) I stopped by places that I’d always previously ninja signed books of mine, and saw that they were only selling current top 20 titles. Or not even that. I did secretly sign books here and there. But it was always in actual bookshops that happened to be in airports, and not in Hudson news style “airport bookshops”. (And I nearly wrote this as an ecological-sounding paper, but realised nobody would actually know what I was talking about if I did. You are welcome to remedy this.)















