‘We publish our books … because the ideas really matter to us’

Small presses have a long history in Philly. In fact, publishing is one of the city’s oldest industries. Just three years after its founding, the city already had its first printing press. And by the end of the 18th century, Philadelphia had become the center for book printing and publishing in the entire country, surpassing New York and Boston.

Today, centuries later, small and independent presses continue to play a vital role in the city’s literary and intellectual landscape. 

Much like publishers back then who helped shape political discourse when ideas like freedom of speech were central in conceiving independence from Britain, today’s publishing houses are increasingly committed to a socially engaged, thought-provoking mission.

To them, the mission does not compromise the quality of content, but rather redefines it, prioritizing voices that have long been unheard and ensuring that publishing remains a space for meaningful encounters and dialogue.

Billy Penn spoke with several small, independent publishers to learn how they are reshaping this legacy, each with their own approach but a shared commitment to promoting diversity, creativity and sustainability.

We are sharing our conversations with them as a series of articles. So far we have spoken to Josh O’Neill (Beehive Books), Linda Gallant (The Head and the Hand) and Doug Gordon (New Door Books).

So, start the presses!

Tell us a bit about the history of Common Notions.

Common Notions started about 10 years ago as a way to really create a project that can take seriously and learn from social movements. This was a time where social movements were emerging not just in the United States, but really all around the world, and I think that the ways that they were producing not just interesting forms of organization but also an analysis of the world, and even beyond that, a vision for a more dignified, democratic and free society, I thought that it would be really important to dedicate a publishing house to the kind of knowledge that comes out of those experiences of organizing collectively.

So Common Notions really took that approach. It comes from our own political activism and social movement experiences, and a desire to build bridges across movements as well, so create some of the means for movements to be able to communicate with each other.

And where was the idea conceived?

It was actually in Brooklyn. Myself and others who were part of the press were involved in different social experimentations and community gatherings and maintaining community spaces.

When did it move to Philly?

When myself and one other member of Common Notions at the time moved to Philadelphia, about seven or so years ago. We were working and based in both places but primarily still in Brooklyn. And with the emergence of our other sister project, Making Worlds Cooperative Bookstore, then we founded our Philadelphia office and our home at the bookstore in West Philadelphia.

Is there a specific term that resonates more with Common Notions, such as small press or independent publisher?

Independent publisher would be the way to go. We operate in the book trade. We have representation and distribution across all the sales channels in the United States, Canada, UK and internationally. Because we operate through the full channel, all of the routes in which books circulate in our society, but also from that perspective, not only are we of course independently owned and collectively run, but our distributor is not a corporate distributor. It’s also a distributor that’s dedicated to independent publishing houses.

What do you publish?

Collectively authored texts, quite a few of those, but also individually authored as well. And then memoirs. There’s been a couple memoirs that we published of folks who are political prisoners. We have done some anthologies … and that too has played around with mixing different genres within one anthology. Essay and creative short story and poetry and that too with graphics as well. We have published some really beautiful, full-color books that showcase a lot of the graphics and the visual culture of social movements. And especially in those cases but throughout, we are always working in collaboration with other collectives and publishing houses

How do you sustain all of this work?

Part of what animates our publishing house is to learn from and maintain a sense of  inspiration and sense of possibility that comes from an imagination that this present order of things is not the only way that society can be organized or structured… that we can change this arrangement and find a much more humane way of interacting with each other and much more balanced way to be part of this planet Earth, and in good relation with all the other living beings on this planet. And that sense of imagination is not confined just to the political writing you would find in essays or in more analytic and nonfiction, but also of course the sense of imagination comes through in our novels as well.

And how about your business model?

First and foremost, we’re animated by a mission, so the idea is just to be as close to self-sustaining as possible and to be as diverse in our revenue stream if possible. But the reason that we publish our books is because the ideas really matter to us, so our business model is really to try to make as many authentic connections as we can with our readers, who we regard as part of a wide community that we want to address and to contribute something to.

That means that people are finding our books because of our direct communication in our newsletters and our social media, because of our reputation as being a publishing house that’s really keenly connected, attuned to social movements in the U.S. and around the world and that will get a fresh perspective on things that you won’t find in too many other publishing houses. But then we also do a lot of work because we’re an independent publishing house, but we are a small press and as a small press there’s certainly a lot of discovery that remains.

Common themes like inspiration, creativity and possibility are central in the history of small presses and independent publishing, which focuses on creating new opportunities. What are your thoughts on this?

You probably find all these themes mixed consistently across a number of different small presses, whether they are explicitly political like we are or not, because there’s a general sense that life is worth living when there’s that sense of collectivity and creativity, a sense of imagination. These are worthwhile themes, that life should not be reduced to transactions and profit, certainly because most of us are not profiting from the current arrangement in society. That our dreams and our desires shouldn’t be reduced to just sort of seeing if we can somehow climb the ladder of social prestige or wealth, that there are other values in the world.

I think another way of interacting with each other is possible. And that kind of culture or the many, many cultures that make that possible depend on a lot of different projects, small publishing houses being one of them, but there are many others. And I think if we think of our cultural work as part of an ecosystem, then I think that’s maybe one way we can push back on this kind of increasing sense of privatization and individualization.

Why is this particularly important in a context that goes beyond individualism? Why is it relevant now?

In some ways it does show you the power of an alternative collective imagination, because I think that’s what these [book] bans are really resistant to. It’s a sense that people can study and learn, and learn from each other, and through those activities gain a better sense of where their histories lie. And where, throughout their histories, there have been moments just like the ones now that present the possibility of resisting this type of capture and control and domination and exploitation. It becomes a kind of common sense because, again, it’s not just romantic or heroic to sort of be part of these resistance movements. It’s also a way of preserving one’s dignity. I think that’s what’s really under assault, the sense that people can be free and can offer each other a greater sense of freedom that’s shared. And that’s probably the biggest threat.