2005: Irony Stinks
Lawn Gnome Publishing began in Flagstaff in 2005 when Aaron Johnson self-published his first poetry chapbook, Irony Stinks (My Life is Irony). Copies were sold with a hand-burned CD of spoken-word performances at independent shops and gatherings around town, including the Applesauce Teahouse, where Johnson hosted a Monday open mic.
There was no formal publishing office and no retail plan. There was a stapler, poetry, live performance, and the practical realization that a writer could make a book, carry it into the world, and place it directly into a reader's hands.
If you cannot find a place for your art, build one.
2008: The zine shop at Firehouse Gallery
By 2008, the project had grown into a zine shop inside Firehouse Gallery. Lawn Gnome was no longer only a name printed on Aaron's own work. It became shelf space for chapbooks, mini-comics, handmade publications, and independent voices that rarely fit conventional bookstores.
The Firehouse years also connected publishing to performance, visual art, comedy, and the wider DIY culture of downtown Phoenix. The future bookstore was already taking shape: not as a quiet retail concept, but as a place where making and gathering belonged together.
2011–2012: Living by creating
Contemporary coverage in The State Press described Johnson traveling, performing, teaching poetry, preparing merchandise, selling chapbooks from a bedroom-based operation, and hoping to distribute work by poets from different communities. The project was still small, but the ambition was already larger than self-publishing.
In 2012, a successful Kickstarter helped turn that ambition into Lawn Gnome's first dedicated bookstore at 905 N. 5th Street in Roosevelt Row. The historic house became a bookstore, publisher, stage, backyard venue, workshop, clubhouse, and gathering place.
2012–2017: The Fifth Street years
The original Roosevelt Row bookstore became home to poetry slams, touring writers, book releases, storytelling, concerts, comedy, the Pink Slip Open Mic, Yarnball, variety shows, workshops, festivals, and countless one-night experiments. A wooden backyard stage and a small historic house held far more activity than their size suggested.
Lawn Gnome also helped publish and distribute independent books while offering space to performers at every level—from first-time readers to nationally known poets and musicians. The point was never only to present finished art. It was to give people room to become artists in public.
Community support repeatedly mattered. After a cash robbery, an online cash mob helped the store recover. Festivals and neighborhood events turned Fifth Street itself into a stage. The Flannel Ball made New Year's Eve feel like a family reunion for a particularly odd family.
2017: Closing the first bookstore, not the idea
The 905 N. 5th Street storefront closed in 2017 amid personal, financial, and neighborhood pressures. Contemporary reporting documented the effects of construction and rapid change on Fifth Street, while also recognizing Lawn Gnome as a home for open mics, storytelling, poetry, comedy, local bands, touring acts, and independent publishing.
The physical closure did not end Lawn Gnome. Events continued through pop-ups and partnerships across Phoenix. These became the homeless years: a period when the organization had no permanent bookstore but kept carrying the microphone, books, performers, and audience from venue to venue.
Central and Camelback
Lawn Gnome later operated at Central Avenue and Camelback Road, extending the bookstore and publishing mission beyond Roosevelt Row. This chapter deserves further documentation as photographs, calendars, and older website records are recovered.
Home again: 912 N. 5th Street
Just before COVID-19 changed public life, Lawn Gnome returned to Roosevelt Row at 912 N. 5th Street. The new house placed the project almost directly across from its earlier home and opened another chapter in the same neighborhood that had shaped its public identity.
The pandemic forced repeated adaptation. Events, retail, publishing, and community gathering all became more difficult. Financial pressures and concerns for family safety ultimately contributed to the decision to close the public-facing operation near the end of the pandemic era.
2025: Twenty years and a new kind of front door
Lawn Gnome's history does not fit neatly into “a bookstore opened and closed.” It began as one handmade chapbook, became a zine shop, grew into a publisher and bookstore, survived without a home, returned to Roosevelt Row, and continued changing for twenty years.
This website is the next form of the project: a public archive of books, performances, houses, photographs, events, press, flyers, experiments, and community memory. It is being built from Facebook exports, old websites, surviving publications, news coverage, and firsthand recollection.