Owner sells Sussex-based company for £30 million

The report, a list of what's hot and what's not in the 50 bookshops owned by his family firm, is his business barometer.

Today it is not on his desk but "filed" in one of the many boxes and bags lining his office and surrounding corridors.

After 34 years, Michael is writing his last chapter in the story of British Bookshops and Stationers, known to millions of book lovers as Sussex Stationers.

This is his last day in his book-lined "over the shop" office which looks out on the hubbub of cafe life in East Street, Brighton. And he is going to miss it.

It is not the usual office of a chief executive. There is not a computer in sight - pens, pencils, rubbers and Post-it notes have served him perfectly well.

Technology He recalls: "I was at the forefront of technology. I bought one of the first computers, put it on the desk and inserted my password. Then I forgot my password and it took IBM three days to sort me out. So I gave up on that."

His brown velvet chief executive's chair, which is almost threadbare from the years of decision-making he has spent in it, is going with him.

He said: "I bought it for £255 in 1976 and thought I would never get my money out of it but clearly I have."

Michael and his younger brother Jonathan announced they were selling the firm to Irish chain Eason & Son last January for an estimated £30 million - 50,000 times what they paid for it.

The Chowen empire started with one bookshop in Haywards Heath which cost £600 in 1971.

Today they have 50 shops and employ more than 1,000 people in outlets stretching from Southampton in the west to Enfield in the north and the newest, Dover, in the east.

There is also the distribution centre at Hollingbury which can support 300 shops.

The Birmingham-born brothers followed their parents to Sussex after they sold the family bakery and confectionery business.

They had sales jobs with Gross Cash Registers and worked all over Britain and abroad, before going it alone.

Michael said: "I bought six adding machines and rushed off to sell them to businesses door-to-door. Then I bought 12. Decimalisation was just coming in so the timing was good.

"By October 1971 I had enough to buy the shop in Commercial Road, Haywards Heath with my brother and our next door neighbour Mark Streatfield.

"We were purely a stationery shop and took £40 a week.

"If we sold a Parker pen for £3.50, we had to write it in the book because it made such a difference to our sales.

"Then came the shop in Western Road, Hove, where we sold adding machines and portable typewriters.

"We began advertising in The Argus and suddenly our business became very big in sales."

Other shops followed. First Worthing in 1973, Hastings in 1975 and Brighton in 1976. Then came Eastbourne and Lewes.

Although he had years of experience as a salesman, as the empire expanded, Michael realised he needed to hone his skills.

He studied accountancy and then sat down and wrote a business plan - a task he calls "probably one of the most depressing sights of my life".

He admits it was a slightly "back of an envelope" affair but, nevertheless, the business flourished.

The net book agreement, which set a minimum price for books, was abolished in 1997 which could have seen the firm off.

However, the company turned it to its advantage by focussing on huge sales and low profit margins.

They advertised exceptionally low prices and sold huge quantities of big books such as dictionaries, atlases, encyclopaedias and cookery books.

However, as in any good book, the plot was not without twists and turns.

Michael said: "There have been three occasions when we came very, very, close to not being here and that was very frightening. There were three recessions and in the last one, we had a double dip.

"However, we have been very lucky. We are a family business and truly, the reason we have survived is because of the co-directors - Susan Chowen, my brother, his wife Hazel, Tony Clark and my partner Maureen.

"And of course our staff. Without them we would not be where we are."

Of course, the business has cashed in on reading trends and tried to provide its customers with bargains, though not all have gone according to plan.

Despite its link with the Almighty, the Vatican Bible turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing.

Michael said: "These books were beautiful and cost more than £100 and we managed to sell them for £29.99.

"However, we hadn't accounted for the size - they were enormous and wouldn't fit on any shelf so the poor staff had to carry these tomes from upstairs down to the shop.

"So you can come unstuck for your £2 profit."

He also recalls the day his co-founder Mark caused a stir by removing some of the letters from the sign outside one of their shops so shocked passers-by read "Sex Station."

During the decades Michael has preferred to stay at his desk, leaving Jonathan to be the public face of the company.

He has avoided meet-the-author opportunities and side-stepped rubbing shoulders with the glitterati.

He has always wanted to meet his favourite author, Wilbur Smith, but has somehow not got round to it.

However, he was coaxed into the limelight to meet former US president Bill Clinton during his recent trip to Britain.

He said: "I didn't want to be impressed but I was."

As well as handing over the business to Eason & Son, Michael will be entrusting them with a lifetime's collection of memorabilia.

They include Victorian Christmas and Valentine's cards, invitations to the coronation of King George VI and documents from a visit by the King of Persia to Sussex in 1889.

After locating the missing book report, he informs me this week's best-seller is the updated version of Gillian McKeith's You Are What You Eat, followed by his old favourite Wilbur Smith and Triumph Of The Sun.

But Michael, 65, has no plans to lounge around reading during his retirement.

He is developing a block of ten flats, he loves to surf and he is a governor at Brighton College where his son Christopher is a pupil.

He wants to do something "exciting" and is investigating possibilities for the future of St Peter's Church, Brighton, which is earmarked for closure.

He said: "It would make a wonderful music venue. That idea fills me with enthusiasm. I would hate to see it die like the West Pier."

There again, perhaps he could write a best-seller about his life in books.