Showing posts with label holy crap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holy crap. Show all posts

Friday, August 26, 2011

Stormageddon

No round-up today, mes auteurs—we New Yorkers are all preparing for Hurricane Irene. We'll (hopefully) be back on Monday, and for those of you in Irene's path, stay safe and stay dry!

Monday, July 18, 2011

The Last Chapter

I've returned from parts unknown, mes auteurs, and I trust y'all enjoyed last week's guest posts while I was gone. Many thanks to our five guest posters!

All is not sunshine and lollipops in Ye Olde Publishinge Lande, however. If you haven't yet heard the sad news, Borders is converting from Chapter 11 bankruptcy to Chapter 7, meaning they are liquidating their assets and going entirely out of business.

First, my sincere condolences and heartfelt thanks to all the Borders employees who have helped me so much over the years and to whom I wish the best in their pursuits and endeavors after Borders. BGP's liquidation will entail roughly 11,000 layoffs—not including potential job losses at ancillary corporations, such as publishing, shipping, and food services companies that may have departments dealing exclusively with Borders—and my best wishes are with those who will be seeking work in this economy in the next several months.

Second, this will impact the industry in many significant ways, not all of which will become immediately apparent.

• There is now only one major bricks-and-mortar physical book retailer in the country: Barnes & Noble. B&N no longer needs to contend with any other major player in terms of physical co-op, in-store couponing, &c &c. I expect they'll continue to compete heavily with Amazon, however—especially in the increasingly popular e-book arena—so I don't foresee any immediate or comprehensive shifts in the price of physical books.

• There is now a significant surplus of physical books in the market. I'm not completely clear on the returns policy for distressed retailers, but I believe they're entitled to return most—if not all—of their unsold stock to the appropriate publishers. While I imagine many publishers moved to minimize their exposure back when Borders filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, I think a lot of them are going to get hit with big returns as Borders dissolves.

• Print runs are going to become smaller. When making final decisions in terms of binding books, publishers have taken two major chains into account; now they'll only account for one. While it's true that Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and (to a lesser extent) big-box retailers like Wal*Mart and small, independent book shops will absorb some of that business, a portion of it will be permanently lost.

• I think this will hasten physical/electronic equilibrium in the market. With fewer physical books being printed and more consumers going to Amazon and Barnes & Noble—many purchasing books electronically via the Kindle or Nook, respectively—I think the American market will be fully half e-books by the last quarter of 2013 or the first quarter of 2014. Over time, areas traditionally resistant to electronic media (such as art books, children's books, and international editions) will increasingly move in that direction, as well.

Again: is the physical book dead? Absolutely not. But the loss of Borders will, I think, hasten its transition to a secondary format.

The times, they are a-changin', ladies and gents, and I don't pretend to know what's going to happen over the next several months. I can tell you, however, that I'm not surprised by this turn of events—in fact, Borders managed to hang on much longer than I expected—and I was by no means alone in the industry in that expectation. Though the methods by which customers purchase books will undoubtedly continue to change, people will still need great stories. Books, whatever their form, are here to stay, and it's my sincere hope that Borders' demise will engender more opportunities than it dissolves.

Monday, June 6, 2011

It Came From The Cloud

First, many thanks to our five guest posters from last week! The activity in the comments section and on Twitter seem to indicate that all were fun, informative, and well-received, and I tip my digital hat to the five of you.

I'm still unpacking and settling in from my vacation, so today's post will be about you. Prithee, inform me, ladies and gents: how do you feel about Apple's iCloud?

Personally, I fear that Apple will use my information for iNiquity™, but that could just be my own paranoia talking. While I initially balked at the idea—Apple has made its name principally as a hardware, rather than software, manufacturer—I've since realized that this is a pretty smart move for the company. Most of the people I know who own Apple machines own multiple devices (laptop, desktop, iPhone, iPod, iPad, &c), and being able to link them together via the magic of the iNterwebz™ makes a lot of sense.

So, while I'm not sure I'll be partaking in Apple's newest venture—what about you?

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

In Blackest Night

It's raining in New York City, mes auteurs, which (to me) means: movie day!

Now, I know not everyone is as big a nerd as I am, so I understand if you only have a vague familiarity with (or have never even heard of) the Green Lantern. But he's been my favorite superhero since I was a kid (occasionally taking second place to Batman), and I am really, really excited that this movie is coming out.



June 17th!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Three Cups of Baloney

That title actually grossed me out a little more than I expected. My apologies.

In case you haven't heard, mes auteurs, it's looking like Greg Mortenson may have made up a lot of stuff in his books, Three Cups of Tea and Stones Into Schools, and now Jon Krakauer is calling him out on it. (You can download Krakauer's .pdf book, Three Cups of Deceit, for free for a limited time.)

The problem of partially fabricated memoirs isn't new to the industry; you probably remember Margaret B. Jones' Love and Consequences, which was found to be totally fraudulent not long after it was published, as well as the much more infamous "memoir" by James Frey, A Million Little Pieces, which was also (much) less than honest (the Daily Beast mentions both here).

Now, the allegations of fiscal misappropriation against Mortenson aside—as I think that's a very different, and far more serious, question—do you think it matters if the/a story is true or not? Does "memoir" mean "fact," or does it mean "how I remember it, which may or may not be super true"?

If this seriously offends/bothers you (it seriously offends/bothers me), what do you think publishers can do to remedy the situation (besides the easy and vague answer of "do a better job of fact-checking")? What actions should be taken against house and author, and should/how can we differentiate between memoirs that are "mostly true," "somewhat true," "fraudulent," &c &c?

Theories, questions, and diatribes in the comments!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines (Rerun)

Meetings abound this week, mes auteurs, so I'll be posting reruns today and tomorrow. Enjoy!

Episode: "This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines"
Originally aired: Thursday, September 2nd, 2010

In case you hadn't heard, Yahoo! sports columnist Adrian Wojnarowski (say that three times fast) has been sued by Penguin Books for failure to meet his deadline regarding a book about former North Carolina State University basketball coach Jim Valvano. The original manuscript delivery date? August 1, 2007.

Wojnarowski was originally offered a cool $400,000 (of which he received $140,000), but his repeated delays caused Penguin to reduce the total advance to $325,000. Now, over three years later, they've canceled the book and are taking Wojnarowski to court to recover the $140,000 they already paid him.

I wish I could say this kind of story was uncommon, but honestly, the only unusual aspect is the filing of a lawsuit. Books are delayed by months (sometimes years) all the time, and failure to meet deadline (sometimes more than once) is not unheard of. I think, however, that publishers' patience is particularly short in the midst of the recession, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were to become even less lenient about missed deadlines, particularly for books bought for six- or seven-figure advances.

The reasons for delays can range from author laziness to the publisher's disapproval of various drafts (that is, sending them back for rewrites) to changes in current events that warrant substantial revisions (generally affecting only nonfiction). Remember, too, that most advances are cut into pieces: often one installment is paid on signing, another on receipt of the manuscript by the publisher, and occasionally a third on or around the date of publication. If you're getting $400,000 and you've already gotten $140,000 just for signing a piece of a paper, one can see how your motivation might be temporarily shot.

That said: this business is slow enough as-is, so as début writers who always want to make the best of impressions, it's in your collective best interest to get your manuscripts and revisions delivered on time. Always be professional, always be on time, and always ask your agent or editor if you have any questions about deadlines, timelines, or any of the other myriad -lines to which you might be subject.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

World of Tomorrow Week, Part 3 of 4: The Future

And now, mes auteurs, you're about to embark on a journey through another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. Next stop: The Twiligh— I mean, publishing world of tomorrow!

(Also, dear readers, please don't think I'm ignoring you by not responding to recent comments on this series. First, it's conference season in the Land of Publishing, so I'm short on time; second, I want to foster as much of a debate between you folks as possible, and it gets complicated if I keep gallivanting into the comment arena to clarify or expound.)

That said—on to the exciting and terrifying future!

The Big Shrink (Publishers)

Over the next decade, I expect publishing to become smaller. Not in the sense that there will be fewer retailers and publishers; on the contrary, I think there will be more (see Consolidation and The Independent Renaissance, below). What I mean to say is: the giants (that is, the Big Six) will need to scale back their operations in order to remain profitable, and this will probably result in a net loss of jobs in the industry.

As the shift to e-books continues, there is/will be a temporary need for more employees at large publishing houses (chiefly for e-book conversion and on-line marketing). As publishers streamline their process, however, not only will they no longer need additional staff for the sale of electronic media, they'll actually need fewer personnel as the print runs and sales of physical books decline. Increases in overall title count may counteract this to some extent, but as everything from production to warehousing scales back, fewer people will be necessary overall.

Additionally, I'm predicting that the industry will consolidate somewhat (see below), meaning that jobs previously offered by publishers may increasingly be available with agencies and retailers.

Consolidation

As print runs decrease and e-books become the norm, it will 1.) be increasingly fiscally feasible for smaller operations to turn out a greater number of books, and 2.) no longer require that there be so much specialization and segmentation within the industry. A new, "boutique" literary enterprise employing a few literary agents, editors, tech gurus, and a small staff of on-line marketing and sales folks will be able to do the e-work currently undertaken by individual agencies, publishers, and retailers. Why sign with an agent, have him/her pitch to a house, and have that house deal with the logistics of selling it through myriad channels (often requiring greatly varied and/or incompatible information and file types) when you can get it all in one place?

Amazon already maintains in-house editors, and the Wylie Agency's Odyssey Editions fiasco telegraphed the intention of (at least some) literary agencies to take on roles that were previously the province of publishers and/or retailers. I think this signals a shift toward greater consolidation in the industry over the next ten years. Whether this means Amazon will be taking unsolicited mss or Simon & Schuster will open their own e-book store remains to be seen, but I think this niche will be filled by companies that already have a strong toehold in the digital market.

The Big Shrink (Retailers)

With the rise of electronic media and on-line retailers like Amazon, brick-and-mortar chains are under enormous pressure to adapt. I've previously likened the current environment to the Cretaceous era immediately preceding the mass extinction event: smaller/independent retailers are the scrappy mammals, brick-and-mortar chains are the dinosaurs, and Amazon (or Internet book retailing in general) is the comet. I don't think this is too hyperbolic.

Unless big chains like Borders—which, according to Publishers Lunch, will be seeing another round of layoffs and store closures—and Barnes & Noble can move a sufficiently large percentage of their business to the Internet, they won't (à mon avis) be around ten years from now. Eventually their operations will shrink to the point where their offering of a physical storefront is outmatched by independent stores' ambience, personality, and community involvement (see below), and they'll likely transform into an all e-operation, selling physical books via the Internet. Since Amazon already does this better than they do, I imagine they'll simply go out of business.

The Independent Renaissance

Finally, meine Autoren, I believe that the combined effects of e-book popularity and brick-and-mortar chain downsizing will lead to a resurgence of the independent book store. Offering everything you can't get from Amazon (locality, community involvement/events, readings, rare or limited edition physical books, &c), they'll expand to fill the roles they lost with the rise of the major chains in the early 1990s. But! More on this tomorrow.

Questions, (dis)agreement, conspiracy theories? To the comments!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Singles: Not Just for Kraft or eHarmony

In case you haven't heard, mes auteurs, Amazon is introducing Amazon Singles, a new variety of content aimed at providing Ye (We?) Unwashed Masses with 30- to 90-page chapbooks, novellas, pamphlets, and so on. From the article:

Ideas and the words to deliver them should be crafted to their natural length, not to an artificial marketing length that justifies a particular price or a certain format.

— Russ Grandinetti, Vice President for Kindle Content, Amazon

First of all, bravo, Amazon. Second of all, IT'S ABOUT TIME, I TOTALLY HAD THIS IDEA ALREADY. Like, over a year ago. It's a good thing we have the Internet these days for keeping track of things like this.

I believe the sale of e-chapbooks, e-novellas, and even (gasp!) e-short stories via Amazon will help revitalize two flagging genres of American writing: poetry and literary fiction. Don't want to take a chance on a début poetry collection? Try the shorter, cheaper chapbook. Not sure you want to buy that up-and-coming author's novel? Buy a short story or two. Only have a two-hour train ride and don't want to start a whole new book? Try an essay or a novella! Don't even get me started on the potential literary magazine renaissance.

The literary world is changing, bros and she-bros, and it's doing so very quickly. Smaller publishers have more opportunities now than ever before to showcase their (read: your) work electronically, so if you're not signed with one of the Big Six, don't despair—your publisher may be much nimbler and more savvy than a larger, more traditional house, and though you might not become the next J.K. Rowling, you certainly stand to gain a lot by having your work available to an ever-growing and (omni)voracious audience.

Again, however, I feel I should caution you: this does not mean an Internet free-for-all, and this does not mean that self-publishing is the way to go. I'm not saying you're stupid or impulsive, mes auteurs (far from it!), but simply because one can flood the Internet with work that hasn't been edited, marketed, or even reviewed by professionals—who, let's face it, sort of know what they're doing—doesn't mean one should.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Some Things I Might Know About Query Letters (Rerun)

Due to meetings and required reading, bros and she-bros, it'll be reruns here at PMN today and tomorrow. I'll be back with new content on Wednesday; in the meantime, enjoy! — E

Episode: "Some Things I Might Know About Query Letters"
Originally aired: Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

As usual: caveat.

As you may have surmised by this point, I am not an agent! I have never been an agent, I'm not sure I'd ever want to be (or am cut out to be) an agent, and so there's no reason to think I ever will be an agent. Aside from having written a few dozen query letters in my day and reading many an agent blog, I have no direct experience with actual, paper-and-ink (or electron-and...more-electron) queries.

But! I have written pitch letters, and I do work in sales, so (to some extent) I'm very familiar with many of the basic components of query-writing and -reading, so I consider myself qualified to at least talk about the basics, which (as you may also have surmised) I now will.

Less is more. I'm led to believe that agents don't have a ton of free time. Your query, like a pitch letter or title presentation in a sales call, has to be short and sweet. Yes, there's more small talk and relationship-building between a sales rep and a buyer than between a potential client and an agent, but a good salesperson knows when to be social and when to be businesslike. I'm not saying not to have a little fun with your query; what I'm saying is, cut to the chase. Keep it under a page.

Be professional. This sort of ties into the above point, and it also kind of goes without saying, but it bears repeating. Besides being as brief as possible, you want to be polite and professional. Do not call your novel a "fiction novel," do not talk about how it's sure to be an instant bestseller, do not talk about your multiple academic degrees or your sunny disposition or your cat. Talk about your book, and if it's a non-fiction proposal, talk about yourself insofar as it pertains to the project you're pitching. That's it!

Personalize, personalize, personalize. Guess how many non-personalized pitch letters to editors, publicists, and other industry professionals go into the so-called circular file? Around 95 to 100 percent. It's the same deal with agents: don't be creepy and tell them how much you like the floral wallpaper in their living room and by the way could they please turn the TV toward the window so you can watch reruns of Get Smart with them, but at least do them the courtesy of addressing them by name (no "Dear Sir or Madam"s or "To Whom it May Concern"s) and demonstrating that you know something about them and their agency. Mention some titles they've represented that you liked! Tell them you thought their post on query letters was really helpful! Don't get carried away, but if you expect an agent to take the time to read your query (and hopefully, your partial and full), take the time to personalize your query.

Follow directions. Yes, it can be frustrating when one agent asks for a 300-word double-spaced query and another asks for a 500-word single-spaced query. Occasionally you will find that different agents want totally different—perhaps contradictory—things. But if you believe that agent is right for you, take the time to tailor your letter to their guidelines, which (one must assume) they have established for a reason. If they ask you to include the first ten pages, include the first ten pages, and don't send a writing sample (no matter how sorely tempted you may be to do so) if they specifically ask that you don't. You want to put your best foot forward from the get-go, and following an agent's guidelines is a very big and generally necessary component of achieving that.

Do your research. This ties into the above point, but in a more general sense. If an agent doesn't usually represent science fiction, your grand space opera spanning 10,000 years and a half-dozen galaxies probably won't interest him or her, and you'll likely waste both your and the agent's time by querying. If it's not clear from an agent's guidelines or title list whether they represent your genre, by all means, go ahead and query anyway; however, 90% of the time, you should be able to figure out whether an agent will be interested in your type of project based on his/her (agency's) website. You're not looking for just any agent, after all—you're looking for a business partner, one who's genuinely interested in your work and willing to champion it to an editor. In short, you're looking for a good match.

Know how to sell your product. Sure, you know your product; after all, you wrote your book, so you know it better than anyone. Your knowledge of your book isn't being tested, though, but rather, your knowledge of how to present it. If I'm writing a pitch letter, it's not enough that I know everything about the title I'm trying to push—I have to know the best way to position it and anticipate what will catch the reader's eye and hold his or her attention. You need to know that about your product—your book—as well. Where's your hook? What sets your paranormal romance apart from all the other paranormal romances currently on the market? Don't start crunching BookScan numbers or hypothesizing about your target audience, but grab and hold the agent's attention with a great opening line and a well-paced, concise description that leaves him or her wanting to know more by the letter's end.

That's all I've got for you, gentle readers, and I hope it's not a total rehash of all the query advice you've gotten before. As always, if you have any questions or comments—or even rebuttals, calls of shenanigans, or plain old-fashioned vitriol—fire away!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Personalities and Professionalism

Every once in awhile, mes auteurs, I post about the little dos and don'ts of interacting with agents: what to say and not to say, how to go about saying it, asking appropriate questions without driving your agent up the wall, &c, &c. After having read Bill Clegg's Portrait of the Addict as a Young Man, however, I must ask: what kind of behaviors would you and wouldn't you tolerate from your (hypothetical) agent? How far would you go to preserve your working relationship?

If you haven't read Clegg's memoir, allow me to summarize: for reasons that aren't made entirely clear, Bill Clegg decides to throw away his relationship with his family, flagrantly cheat on his live-in boyfriend, and abandon his career (deserting his pregnant business partner and dozens of clients in the process) so he can blow through $70,000 worth of savings smoking crack. (He relapses or drops out of rehab more than once.) Clegg portrays himself as not very nice and not overwhelmingly intelligent, though he does (pre-crack binge, at least) sound funny and fairly charming. That aside, however, he sounds like someone of whom I wouldn't even want to be a friend of a friend of a friend, much less someone I'd want to work with. (Full disclosure: I have never met Bill Clegg in real life.)

Here's the kicker, though: after he finally cleaned up his act, Clegg—who never actually apologized to the the aforementioned abandoned business partner—didn't seem to suffer at all from having burnt nearly every bridge he had. He not only got a pretty cushy job with William Morris Endeavor Entertainment, but even got many of his former clients back. Clients he had abandoned with no explanation so he could smoke a bunch of crack, drink liver-brittling amounts of room service vodka, and have sex with $400/hour prostitutes.

Granted, this is far and away an outlier in the Realm of Recorded Agent Behaviors, but I think it warrants attention not only because of Clegg's high profile, but because of the relative lack of professional repercussions he seems to have suffered.

This might be an easy one, but prithee, inform me: would you have gone back to an agent like Bill Clegg if you believed (s)he were the best fit for your work and/or would get you the best deal available? What would and wouldn't you tolerate in a relationship with your agent?

Monday, September 20, 2010

Sticking it to the Ban

In case you were unaware, liebe Autoren, this Saturday, September 25th through Sunday, October 3rd is Banned Books Week! I heartily recommend you select and read a title from this list of frequently challenged books (browsable by author, year, and decade!) sometime this month or next. I also encourage you, if you are Twitter-inclined, to tweet on the subject via use of the #SpeakLoudly hashtag (see below).

This month more than any, gentle readers, reminds us of the importance of our First Amendment rights:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

(Emphasis mine.)

In particular, I'm thinking of the YA novel SPEAK, which I've learned from the author, Laurie Halse Anderson (via Janet Reid and Tahereh Mafi) has been called "pornography" by Wesley Scroggins, an associate professor of management at Missouri State University. (His original op-ed in the Springfield News-Leader can be found here.)

Challenging books with sexual or otherwise "questionable" content is nothing new; Joyce's Ulysses was branded pornography when it was first published serially in the United States in 1918 (a charge that wasn't dismissed until the Supreme Court case United States v. One Book Called Ulysses in 1933). Many profoundly important books—including several major works of Western literature—have been challenged or banned at some point in their histories, and it's due in large part to the First Amendment and individual teachers', librarians', and activists' commitment to free speech and opposition to censorship that these books have been made available to United States citizens, students included.

Scroggins maintains that not only should SPEAK be banned, but modern classics like Slaughter-House Five (which, according to Republic Superintendent Vern Minor, has been removed from all school libraries) should also be unavailable to students (mostly due to use of "the f-word"). For context, the district in question teaches abstinence-only sex education to all students, and Scroggins has also been involved in Reclaiming Missouri for Christ, a seminar whose purpose was "to educate... all citizens... to the role of fundamental, Biblical Christianity in the establishment... of our legal... system" (again, emphasis mine). The full quote is in Laurie's post.

I, like Laurie, fear that parents (and possibly even educators) reading Scroggins' op-ed will believe what Scroggins is saying, and will pressure schools to remove valuable books from their libraries as a result. I therefore propose the following, Concerned Parents of America: before you make a decision to remove a book from a library, read it yourself. If you find you disagree with the content, communicate this to your child. Be aware of what your children are reading, watching on television, or browsing on the Internet. Just because you determine a book is unacceptable for you or your child does not give you the right to deprive other people of the right to read that book. Period.

I urge you, mes auteurs, via Laurie's post, to comment on Scroggins' op-ed, write a letter to Superintendent Vern Minor, write a letter to the News-Leader, or simply tweet this post, Laurie's, Tahereh's, or Janet's, using the #SpeakLoudly hashtag.

The freedom to read what we wish is precious and protected in this country. We don't know what we have until it's taken away.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

This is Why You Always Meet Your Deadlines

In case you hadn't heard, Yahoo! sports columnist Adrian Wojnarowski (say that three times fast) has been sued by Penguin Books for failure to meet his deadline regarding a book about former North Carolina State University basketball coach Jim Valvano. The original manuscript delivery date? August 1, 2007.

Wojnarowski was originally offered a cool $400,000 (of which he received $140,000), but his repeated delays caused Penguin to reduce the total advance to $325,000. Now, over three years later, they've canceled the book and are taking Wojnarowski to court to recover the $140,000 they already paid him.

I wish I could say this kind of story was uncommon, but honestly, the only unusual aspect is the filing of a lawsuit. Books are delayed by months (sometimes years) all the time, and failure to meet deadline (sometimes more than once) is not unheard of. I think, however, that publishers' patience is particularly short in the midst of the recession, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were to become even less lenient about missed deadlines, particularly for books bought for six- or seven-figure advances.

The reasons for delays can range from author laziness to the publisher's disapproval of various drafts (that is, sending them back for rewrites) to changes in current events that warrant substantial revisions (generally affecting only nonfiction). Remember, too, that most advances are cut into pieces: often one installment is paid on signing, another on receipt of the manuscript by the publisher, and occasionally a third on or around the date of publication. If you're getting $400,000 and you've already gotten $140,000 just for signing a piece of a paper, one can see how your motivation might be temporarily shot.

That said: this business is slow enough as-is, so as début writers who always want to make the best of impressions, it's in your collective best interest to get your manuscripts and revisions delivered on time. Always be professional, always be on time, and always ask your agent or editor if you have any questions about deadlines, timelines, or any of the other myriad -lines to which you might be subject.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Blockbuster Phenomenon

Nathan's post from yesterday regarding Jonathan Franzen's Freedom has gotten me thinking about the blockbuster model for book sales in general. Why does the industry invest millions of dollars in a tiny percentage of books that they hope against hope will turn a huge profit? Why do fewer than 1% of books pay for the acquisition of the remaining 99%? Why are the likes of James Patterson, Sarah Palin, and (saints preserve us) The Situation running the show?

Part of the reason is, as I've mentioned before, a sort of singlemindedness endemic to the industry that assumes anything that has worked in the past will continue to do so in the future. If Esteban Fancypants' novel The Art Dealer's Wife becomes a huge hit, he may well end up with a seven-figure offer for his second (or second and third) books. True, it's not entirely fair to blame the industry for this; time and again, consumers have returned to a brand (read: author) they love, and if enough people hear great things about (and later buy) Mr. Fancypants' first book, he's got an established audience for his future titles. Publishers throw money at "sure bets" because publishing has been and always will be something of a gamble, and if there's any indication that leveraging an author with a proven track record can produce more profit, they'll be all over that deal like a monkey on a cupcake.

HOWEVER. Simply because Mr. Fancypants' first novel sold 5 million copies doesn't mean his second and third novels will perform similarly, and for every story of the out-of-the-blue début novelist whose first book sold millions of copies, there's a story of an out-of-the-blue début novelist whose second book tanked. Maybe the second book received bad reviews; maybe it was so different from the first book that it alienated his or her established audience; maybe it comes to light that the author is a terrible person and nobody wants to be caught dead reading his or her book; the number of reasons is potentially infinite. Thing is (and it is fair to blame the industry for this), publishers 1.) perpetuate the blockbuster cycle by driving prices up at auction to patently absurd levels, and 2.) tend to chase losing brands by throwing more money at them long after the authors' audiences have either stopped caring or died.

What, then, can be done about this, mes auteurs?

Well, publishers could consistently include and enforce clauses in contracts stipulating that authors whose books fail to earn out their advances must return the balance of the advance to the publisher, but that's not going to happen unless the industry adopts this policy across the board (not to mention it's not really fair to authors who receive little in the way of marketing and co-op dollars).

I'm interested by this NPR article from last year, which mentions HarperStudio's experimenting with publishing two books a month, neither with an advance of over $100,000, and attracting authors by promising a 50/50 split on the book's profit. While I'm not sure this exact model is a solution, I think programs like it may offer a way out of the boom-and-bust, all-or-nothing blockbuster model that prevails in the industry today.

What say you, gentle readers?

Monday, July 19, 2010

A Taxing Profession

A question came up in Thursday's comments regarding the tax situation for authors. This is sort of a tricky question, and the answers will differ from writer to writer, but I'm happy to try to demistify the basics here.

First: if you are an author, you are effectively self-employed (assuming you have no day job, which is, to be honest, a bit of a stretch). This means you may have to report your earnings to the IRS on a quarterly basis and will certainly have to pay self-employment (SE) tax (15.30%) via Schedule SE of the IRS Form 1040. (You can learn more about the tax forms you'll need here.)

Second: you're eligible for a lot of deductions as an author, particularly those that pertain directly to your writing career. Office supplies, use of your car for travel (e.g. author tours), books, magazine subscriptions, writing workshops/conferences, and dues to professional organizations (such as MWA or RWA) are all deductions you can make. You may want to look into getting an accountant to help make sure you get the greatest number of deductions possible.

Third: some authors are under the impression that royalty payments fall under the capital gains tax (rather than income tax) and are subject to the lower capital gains rate (15%). This isn't the case. (Even if it were, the capital gains tax is set to revert to pre-2003 levels—around 28%—next year, so you wouldn't be saving all that much regardless.)

Finally: speaking of royalties/payment, you need to budget effectively. Publishers take several months to calculate royalty payments, meaning you'll probably only get a handful of "big" paychecks per year. If you've got a day job, it might make sense to keep your writing income in a separate savings/checking account and rely primarily on your day job's salary to budget, pay rent, and so on. If not, you'll have to be careful to budget your money so as to live comfortably year-round, pay your taxes, and (hopefully) set some aside in savings. Again, hiring an accountant to help you go through your finances and construct a budget might make sense.

Questions? To the comments!

Monday, June 7, 2010

Death of a Format

As we progress further into the Most Glorious Digital Age, mes auteurs, I can't help but feel that some book formats and practices are going to be made obsolete. Now, before anyone gets started with "Kindle-this" and "iPad-that," I'm not suggesting that 1.) these changes will render print books in general obsolete, or 2.) these changes will be specific to any one e-reader, company, or file format.

They are as follows: large print and audio books (as they currently exist) are goners.

Large print books are going to fold relatively soon simply because e-readers offer something that physical books don't and can't: resizable font. If the characters on your Kindle or Sony Reader or iPad or what have you are too small to read, you can zoom in; no such luck with a paperback. And as more and more older folks begin to adopt electronic readers, the market for paper-and-ink large print books will continue to dwindle. Eventually, everyone who used to read large print books will have either converted over to e-books or will have died, leaving only those who grew up with electronic books as the norm.

How long will this process take? Beats me, but I know that large print book sales have been on the decline for a few years now and their profit margins are shrinking. I'd be surprised if large print books are still sold by major New York publishers five years from now.

Audio books are a different animal altogether: they're not being directly threatened by e-readers like the Kindle or the Nook, but their audience is dwindling as libraries (major customers in the audio market) are closing and downward pressure on pricing in the music industry means fewer and fewer people are willing to shell out $40 or even $50 for an unabridged audio book.

In my opinion, the future of the audio book lies in the paid download (à la the iTunes store model or a subscription model like Amazon's Audible). As we move away from physical media for everything from books (Kindle, iPad, Nook) to music and movies (iTunes, Audible, Netflix's "Watch Instantly"), I think the physical, compact disc audio book is going to go the way of the dodo. Unlike the print book market, which will actually continue to thrive for awhile in the YA and children's segments (chiefly because most parents can't or won't by a $200+ device for accident-prone children to read on), audio books haven't taken hold with that demographic because its constituents either haven't bought a CD in years or are unsure as to what CDs actually are.

What do you think, gentle readers? Am I right or am I right?

Monday, May 24, 2010

On the Importance of Storytelling

***CAUTION: LOST SPOILERS AHEAD***

If you haven't yet seen the lost series finale, I suggest you put off reading the below post until you do. Anything after the break may contain significant spoilers.




















Yes. lost.

Say what you will about the series finale—who died*, who lived, what was wrapped up, what was never addressed**, what questions were answered, sort of answered, left unanswered, &c—one of the major strengths behind the show is the establishment of an interesting, consistent mythology that is slowly revealed (I hesitate to say "explained") to viewers via effective storytelling.

When writing a short story, novel, screenplay, or television show, it's not enough to have interesting characters and a cool plot; you have to be able to advance the story and explore the psychologies and depths of the characters in an engaging way. Simply put: it's not enough to have a great story, but you need to tell that story well, too. The what is necessary, but the how is absolutely essential. It's character development, it's maintaining the relationship (often tension) between what the characters know versus what the reader/viewer knows (dramatic irony, anyone?), it's controlling pacing, it's telling your story in the best order, &c &c. If lost had been told from the point of view of the smoke monster (what the hell is his name, anyway?) from the very beginning, or if the show had unfolded in strict chronological order (starting with Jacob's birth and ending with the series finale), the show wouldn't have been nearly as effective as it was.

Granted, there were some pretty big questions that were left partially or wholly unresolved, and I don't necessarily recommend that M.O. when writing your novels—readers like loose ends tied up, even if it's not perfect. I also tend to think readers don't really like abstract church-afterlives vaguely reminiscent of the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, either, so I'd also avoid that tack if possible. To each his/her own.

As for the ending of lost in particular: I think it was interesting and competent, but not totally mind-blowing. I didn't like that major questions weren't answered (e.g. what the island actually is, the fates of certain seemingly extraneous characters, the source of Eloise Hawking's apparent extra-temporal awareness, and so on), but I suppose those weren't really "the point." I'm not sure I could really tell you what "the point" was. I did, however, think the bookending of the eye opening/eye closing image, while predictable, was nice, and while I wasn't really a fan of Christian being there (though I suppose, being dead, he did belong), I did like the "reunion" feel of the church scene. It may grow on me as time goes on.

What do/did you think, fair readers?


[Edit: speaking of you, fair readers: there are now 1,000 of you following PMN! Thanks to everyone for reading, commenting, and following!]


* Everyone? I think?
** Walt?

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Some Things I Might Know About Query Letters

As usual: caveat.

As you may have surmised by this point, I am not an agent! I have never been an agent, I'm not sure I'd ever want to be (or am cut out to be) an agent, and so there's no reason to think I ever will be an agent. Aside from having written a few dozen query letters in my day and reading many an agent blog, I have no direct experience with actual, paper-and-ink (or electron-and...more-electron) queries.

But! I have written pitch letters, and I do work in sales, so (to some extent) I'm very familiar with many of the basic components of query-writing and -reading, so I consider myself qualified to at least talk about the basics, which (as you may also have surmised) I now will.

Less is more. I'm led to believe that agents don't have a ton of free time. Your query, like a pitch letter or title presentation in a sales call, has to be short and sweet. Yes, there's more small talk and relationship-building between a sales rep and a buyer than between a potential client and an agent, but a good salesperson knows when to be social and when to be businesslike. I'm not saying not to have a little fun with your query; what I'm saying is, cut to the chase. Keep it under a page.

Be professional. This sort of ties into the above point, and it also kind of goes without saying, but it bears repeating. Besides being as brief as possible, you want to be polite and professional. Do not call your novel a "fiction novel," do not talk about how it's sure to be an instant bestseller, do not talk about your multiple academic degrees or your sunny disposition or your cat. Talk about your book, and if it's a non-fiction proposal, talk about yourself insofar as it pertains to the project you're pitching. That's it!

Personalize, personalize, personalize. Guess how many non-personalized pitch letters to editors, publicists, and other industry professionals go into the so-called circular file? Around 95 to 100 percent. It's the same deal with agents: don't be creepy and tell them how much you like the floral wallpaper in their living room and by the way could they please turn the TV toward the window so you can watch reruns of Get Smart with them, but at least do them the courtesy of addressing them by name (no "Dear Sir or Madam"s or "To Whom it May Concern"s) and demonstrating that you know something about them and their agency. Mention some titles they've represented that you liked! Tell them you thought their post on query letters was really helpful! Don't get carried away, but if you expect an agent to take the time to read your query (and hopefully, your partial and full), take the time to personalize your query.

Follow directions. Yes, it can be frustrating when one agent asks for a 300-word double-spaced query and another asks for a 500-word single-spaced query. Occasionally you will find that different agents want totally different—perhaps contradictory—things. But if you believe that agent is right for you, take the time to tailor your letter to their guidelines, which (one must assume) they have established for a reason. If they ask you to include the first ten pages, include the first ten pages, and don't send a writing sample (no matter how sorely tempted you may be to do so) if they specifically ask that you don't. You want to put your best foot forward from the get-go, and following an agent's guidelines is a very big and generally necessary component of achieving that.

Do your research. This ties into the above point, but in a more general sense. If an agent doesn't usually represent science fiction, your grand space opera spanning 10,000 years and a half-dozen galaxies probably won't interest him or her, and you'll likely waste both your and the agent's time by querying. If it's not clear from an agent's guidelines or title list whether they represent your genre, by all means, go ahead and query anyway; however, 90% of the time, you should be able to figure out whether an agent will be interested in your type of project based on his/her (agency's) website. You're not looking for just any agent, after all—you're looking for a business partner, one who's genuinely interested in your work and willing to champion it to an editor. In short, you're looking for a good match.

Know how to sell your product. Sure, you know your product; after all, you wrote your book, so you know it better than anyone. Your knowledge of your book isn't being tested, though, but rather, your knowledge of how to present it. If I'm writing a pitch letter, it's not enough that I know everything about the title I'm trying to push—I have to know the best way to position it and anticipate what will catch the reader's eye and hold his or her attention. You need to know that about your product—your book—as well. Where's your hook? What sets your paranormal romance apart from all the other paranormal romances currently on the market? Don't start crunching BookScan numbers or hypothesizing about your target audience, but grab and hold the agent's attention with a great opening line and a well-paced, concise description that leaves him or her wanting to know more by the letter's end.

That's all I've got for you, gentle readers, and I hope it's not a total rehash of all the query advice you've gotten before. As always, if you have any questions or comments—or even rebuttals, calls of shenanigans, or plain old-fashioned vitriol—fire away!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Curiouser and Curiouser

Based on yesterday's (entirely unscientific) poll, mes auteurs, it seems that while the majority of you read some combination of the various genres I listed, the most popular categories seem to be fantasy, literary fiction, mystery, and science fiction. I also strongly suspect that YA/children's would have had a strong showing had I set up the poll properly.

Back in the depths of the recession, I theorized that fantasy (read: escapism), YA/children's (read: people will continue to spend money on their kids, even if they don't spend money on themselves), and romance (read: happy endings) would continue to do well, and based on my own research, that seems to have been the case. What I find interesting, however, is that book sales are down year-on-year across the board (with the possible exception of Amazon, who insists on reporting "media sales" without explaining how those data break down among books, movies, music, &c).

There are a lot of theories as to why this is the case, and a correspondingly large number of questions that need to be answered before any of those theories can be backed up (I hesitate to say "confirmed"), altered, or discarded. Among my questions: while dollars are down, are units necessarily also down? (If fewer hardcovers are being sold, it's possible that overall sales dollars can decrease while the number of units sold can stay the same or increase.) Are e-books being taken into account? (I have a feeling they aren't.) Are all retailers being taken into account? (Chains like Wal-Mart and Sam's Club don't report to sales aggregators like Nielsen BookScan.) And so on.

What are your theories, gentle readers? I'm not necessarily calling for hard data, but I'm curious to know what you think is going on. My hunches are as follows:

· A lot of these sales figures are based on reports by BookScan, which (as mentioned above) does not capture the entire market. (Estimates currently range from 70 to 75%.)

· Dollar figures from 10-K reports for individual businesses are helpful, but don't generally (as far as I know) break down sales by product; Amazon (and, to a lesser extent, Borders and Barnes & Noble) sells a huge number of non-book products. To anyone with greater knowledge in this area: definitely post a comment.

· Units and dollars are probably both down, but I think these reports are only for physical books; e-book sales are up year-on-year, and are almost certainly going to continue this upward trend over the next several years. This is why the debate over e-book pricing (and, by extension, e-book profit margin) is so heated.

To the comments!

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

O Fortune, Fortune!

Occasionally in this oft-misunderstood (and sometimes maligned) industry, dear authors, factors beyond your control will play significant part in how many copies of your book a given account will buy (assuming they buy it at all). While I've already talked a little about what you can do to sell yourself and your book, there will be many a time in which the outcome is largely beyond your control. Examples include:

· Overcrowding. Your book may be unique relative to the overall market, but if an account's buyer has already bought five other titles that are (to him or her) essentially identical, their buy for your book is going to be lower than it otherwise would have been—doubly so if your title is designed to appeal to a very small or niche audience. (This is one reason why trend chasing can be a bad idea.) You have no control over what other people are writing, agents are pitching, editors are acquiring, and sales reps are selling, so there's no real way for you to account for this ahead of time. You'll just need to write what you want to write as well as possible.

· Publicity. Sure, you have control over your reputation as a person and a writer, but the kind of publicity I'm talking about is the pie-in-the-sky stuff about which even the publishing house can't make any guarantees: an Oprah's Book Club seal, a spot on Good Morning America, &c, &c. These are game-changing factors that will certainly boost sales of your book, but you can neither account for nor depend on them beforehand.

· The sales call. Maybe the rep isn't super enthusiastic about your book (though he or she will do his/her absolute best to seem so). Maybe the buyer doesn't like the title of your book, or hates the cover, or is simply having a bad day. Maybe the sales call is running over and the rep only has thirty seconds to sell your book. There are innumerable factors that affect the actual sales call over which you have no control whatsoever, and each of them can influence the account's buy one way or the other.

· Plain old luck. I've said it before and I'll say it again: good luck or bad, it's going to affect your career in some capacity. Maybe you got that Oprah's Book Club pick! Maybe you've had to change editors six times since acquisition. Maybe you wrote that killer bio of Millard Fillmore right before they discovered he was secretly a space Nazi!* Maybe your book gave Stephen King a terrible papercut, prompting him to write a scathing public review. The list is endless.

The point of all this, author-acquaintances™? Many aspects of your career will be difficult to predict or control. Everything from having your partial MS passed on to the agent by his/her assistant to the final sales call to winning all kinds of fancy literary awards will inherently contain an element of randomness or luck, and it's up to you to make the best of it, regardless of the circumstance.





*The author has no reason to believe Millard Fillmore is, was, or ever has been a space Nazi. Sorry, Millard.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Round One: Macmillan

If you haven't already heard, a small war broke out in the publishing biz over the weekend. It went something like this: Macmillan had a round of talks with Amazon about increasing the price of their e-books from $9.99 each to somewhere between $12.99 and $14.99 each. When Amazon said they wouldn't do it and it was clear Macmillan wasn't backing down, Amazon responded by pulling all Macmillan titles from its e-shelves on Friday. Macmillan cried foul and, late yesterday, Amazon caved. Macmillan titles sold through Amazon will, starting next month, be priced between $12.99 and $14.99.

[EDIT: Apparently only hardcovers and new releases will be in the $12.99 to $14.99 range; Macmillan titles may appear on Amazon for as little as $5.99, as reported by Macmillan CEO John Sargent.]

What do we make of all this?

It's important to understand that Macmillan's move is based on the long-term goal of keeping e-book prices in the same ballpark as print book prices (as well as their recent deal with Apple), whereas Amazon's goal is to deflate the price of e-books to 1.) sell more Kindles and 2.) gain enough electronic market share to be able to dictate to the publishing industry what books will cost. As we've just seen, Amazon doesn't (yet) have that kind of clout, but that doesn't mean that day will never come.

To quote the Times article: "Book publishers, meanwhile, are volunteering to limit their digital profits. In the model that Amazon prefers, publishers typically collect $12.50 to $17.50 for new e-books. Under the new agency model, publishers will typically make $9 to $10.50 on new digital editions." Publishers are willing to take a short-term loss in order to maintain the status quo; their fear is that if consumers become accustomed to a $9.99 price point for new books, they'll eventually believe that's simply what a book costs, which just isn't true for their print counterparts (hardcovers). Whether this will be the case remains to be seen.

Some are concerned that Macmillan will start seeing a drop in sales if their e-books are priced in the $12.99 - $14.99 range while the rest of Amazon's e-books are sold for $9.99. Although Macmillan may see some shortfall due to lower rate-of-movement and lower profits per book (see above), I don't really think they're going to be hurt by their pricing model in the marketplace. This is chiefly because, unlike vegetable oil or aluminum foil or ball bearings, books are not fungible—that is, one book is not more or less identical to any other and therefore readily exchanged for another. Sure, individual copies of the same title are fungible—you would trade one brand-new hardcover copy of The Help for another brand-new hardcover copy of the The Help—but books in general are not (you wouldn't buy The Help for $9.99 on Amazon simply because it's cheaper than The Gathering Storm at $12.99).

Buying books is not like buying tupperware; consumers do not automatically go for the cheapest product that will get the job done. For this reason, I disagree with anyone that believes Macmillan's breaking Amazon's $9.99 standard will hurt them or the sales of their books; after all, they've competed just fine in brick-and-mortar stores where prices vary significantly from title to title already.

Finally, it's important to realize that neither publishing companies nor Amazon are charities. While both are looking to provide consumers with goods they will purchase (thereby earning profits for the companies involved), none of them believes that they "owe" customers low prices or that they should lose money to keep everyone satisfied. Most importantly, Amazon's imposition of a uniform price should not be misconstrued as the result of market pressure. Regardless of whether the market could tolerate, or even favor, a higher price point—and we'll soon see whether it will—Amazon has made its position clear. We'll see whether their predictions bear out.