Two niche publishers are learning the benefits of a bookstore.

Ask any retail expert about the best way to capture foot traffic, and they're not likely to mention Xeroxed flyers, a musty subterranean space or an office. But when your store boasts a sparkling publishing or writing program, it d sn't really matter. Just talk to the Asian-American Bookseller, the rapidly charging store in a basement in New York's East Village (a paper sign is the only thing that gives it away), or Incommunicado Press, the heralded small publisher that will soon open a bookstore in its New York City offices, as the two realize that synergy and cross-promotion makes sense for even the most niche-oriented of stores.

For seven years, the Asian-American Writers' Workshop has been publishing some of today's hottest Asian-American writers while running classes for the next generation of scribes. Two years ago it launched the literary journal Ten and, last year, the Asian American Literary Awards.

Four years ago, the nonprofit AAWW decided to expand its mission. After receiving seed money from the NEA, it undertook the laborious responsibility of transforming itself from the service of a private niche to the most public of organizations: a bookstore. With no storefront and a space that also had to accommodate classroom and office activities, some might have had doubts. The AAWW just put its collective head down and forged ahead. The effort has paid off. Since the store opened at the Workshop's basement space on St. Mark's Place and Second Avenue shortly after the grant money was received, title capacity has grown sevenfold (to about 700) and it has attracted attention both within the surrounding community and at Asian-American Studies programs around the country. Professors often call and even make trips to New York to scope out titles for course adoptions.

"At a lot of our readings people are backed all the way up the stairs," said Peter Ong, the store and program's managing director. This is no mean accomplishment, given that the store has the capacity to hold almost 100 people in its workshop space, which is situated behind the bookstore. "We've begun to hold a lot of the events offsite," Ong explained.

Store managers attribute the Asian-American Bookseller's success to the fact that it needs so little publicity. Workshop members come in for a class and browse for books, while authors published by the press drop in to see how their books are displayed. It d sn't hurt that the store is the largest Asian-American -- only bookseller in the country. And a burgeoning sidelines business -- from compact discs by the spoken-word artist Beau Sia to a collection of zines -- has helped draw a wider clientele.

"We don't go to great lengths to advertise the store because we really don't have to," Ong told PW. "Even people who come in to do something else, or come in looking for just one book, usually end up buying a lot because they realize it can become a one-stop shopping experience."

If the Asian-American Bookseller has proven that a niche publisher can successfully segue into bookselling, Incommunicado Press is looking to further substantiate the case. The literary micropress, formerly of San Diego, moved its operations to New York's Lower East Side this past fall. Founder and head Gary Hustwit moved his company to New York to be closer to the publishing giants that occupy the city's downtown area. But it wasn't long before he realized that he had a bohemian treasure on his hands.

Incommunicado had moved into a building on Norfolk Street that also houses Tonic, a hopping nightspot that sees plenty of potential bookstore customers stream through its doors. With the belief that many publishers are dedicated to small-press titles but few retail stores are singularly devoted to selling new books from these houses, Hustwit has decided to take advantage of the traffic and open a 400-sq.-ft. store in his publishing offices. It will sit just outside the concert space, in an area formerly occupied by a hair salon. Hustwit will employ what he calls the "Scooby-Doo model" of bookselling -- named after the character who hid a secret laboratory behind his bookcase. After the publisher's office closes at 6 p.m., countertops will roll away and the staff will be replaced, making way for the bookstore, which will stay open until 11 p.m., about the time the Lower East Side tends to heat up.

Bothered by chains' selective attitude toward small presses, Hustwit hopes to stock full catalogues of the indie presses he's tapped, and nothing else. "The main problem with the whole superstore distribution system is that you can go into Barnes &Noble or Borders and find one or two of these titles, but you can't find the whole catalogue." As for the definition of "indie press," Hustwit said he is still struggling. For example: "Is Grove an indie? Some would say they're too big, but they're not really part of a larger company."

And in his quirky way, Hustwit plans to arrange the books by publisher, rather than category. "I think publishers are something that readers need to be more aware of," he said. "They have to be aware that each press has its own identity; it's not just one big German conglomerate."