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Rocket Bomber

Rocket Bomber

Market Maturity.

filed under , 26 July 2013, 21:07 by

[What is it with me and the food analogies? I’m fairly certain I’m eating enough…]

When you go to college…

OK, so it’s more about when *I* went to college; I feel my experience is typical but may not be universal – but as in so many of my posts, I utilize the second-person while writing because I want to make it seem more immediate to my readers. Anyway, moving on:

When you go to college and for the first time are away from home and have to grub for yourself (no more parental guidance and/or mandates on that front), even when you have a (parentally supplied) meal plan via the college dining halls (hey, you’re a freshman, and Mom didn’t want you to starve) :

1st. You tend to go a little nuts with fast food.
2nd. You also explore the world of microwavable convenience foods.
3rd. You run out of money. You do the ramen thing.
4th. You finally give in and actually use your meal plan for a week.
5th. You figure out the worst, least healthful, most-fast-food-like options at the dining hall.
6th. You try cooking for yourself in the dorm kitchen. Once.
7th. You consider living on Mountain Dew and vending machine food.

and then finally someone clues you in on the cheap-fast-mostly-good pizza place (or multiple places) that will deliver right to your dorm.

Given your age at the time (late teens, still growing) and your finances: anything hot and covered with cheese is delicious* and the cheaper the better. College kids and pizza are kind of a stereotype, actually, and I’m sure while it’s not true of everyone: I know you recognize the type.

Maybe not pizza… But food delivery to dorms? I’m pretty sure that is universal. (in 1993 at Ga. Tech there was a pizza delivery place that also did chicken fingers — no, not wings — and would pair them with thick cut steak fries and a homemade honey mustard. For like $5! Those were amazing; I still miss those. The place that made them was bulldozed in 1995.)

Soon after you are able to make your own food decisions, you discover pizza delivery and it is literally the best thing ever — for a time — but then you grow up.

After a few semesters (or years) of fairly continuous pizza, punctuated only by late-night trips to greasy-spoon diners (if you were lucky; Krystal or Taco Bell if you weren’t) eventually you realize that this sort of diet is non-sustainable. That or you turn 30. Or you get married, and your wife has other ideas about what you should be feeding your kids.

Your tastes change, you discover a wider world of options, you find new cuisines and new restaurants, you discover the joys of sharing food with friends, you discover a conscience and think about where your food is coming from.

Even if you don’t become a full-on foodie, I think most of us would agree that supporting our great, local, small restaurants is better than shopping at nationwide franchises and chains. When we can find a great, local, small pizza place – that delivers! – then our conscience is salved and we can fall back on the old bad habits anyway. (In *my* neighborhood, I found one with a bar – best/worst thing ever!)

I think the main point I’d like to make, though, is that when we are young and everything is kind of new to us, we can go overboard on something that is tasty and convenient.

And after we grow a bit, while we’ll still do the easy thing that we know is bad for us — we just do it less. We order pizza every other week, or once a month, rather than 3 nights a week and every Saturday night.

##

Internet retail (yes, which 20 years old already) is still in that young-college-age phase where we do what seems easiest even when we know (or eventually learn) that it’s kinda bad for us and unsustainable in the long run.

“W00T! Amazon! I ♥ those guys! Anything I want, delivered fast, cheap, and I mean anything I want! W00T!”

As someone who worked as an RA in college: this is exactly how freshman reacted when they discovered the local pizzerias that delivered.

The market will continue to mature. Options that seem vague and mostly useless now will grow on you in time, and you’ll find yourself exploring more, trying more things. Options that seem stupid now, while your are still enjoying Amazon/CollegeDormPizzaDelivery, will slowly make more and more sense to you later as you consider the other costs (outside of just dollars) built into the ticket.

…Or not.

I know guys well into their 30s who never really grew out of that. (even after marriage, kids, etc. – it can take a diagnosis & prescription for cholesterol and high-blood-pressure meds to scare them out of it).

I guess what I’m saying is Amazon is fine, in moderation. But look around, be adventurous, explore, graze, and maybe incorporate some local options in your overall consumption diet.

##

* anything hot and covered with cheese is still delicious. I’m one of those guys in their 30s who never really grew out of that phase. I cook at home quite a bit *more* these days, though.



The Future of The Book

filed under , 23 July 2013, 00:12 by

Every book blogger* is writing one of these damn “insightful” “thought pieces” on the future of the book.

There are a number of players/factions to consider — Publishers, Amazon, Bookstores, Authors (both established and aspiring) — major changes in technology, and consumer behavior, and minor distractions like whatever motions Apple or Google are making towards this space this year (that will change next year). Pick your favorite horse in this race: with a wealth of information out there, it is easy enough to cherrypick sources that back up whichever conclusion best fits the proclivities of the blogger. What we lack is real data — number of kindles sold, number of (self-published, non AAP-member) ebooks sold, total number of books (e- and otherwise) sold and by how much and how much in each category including the bestsellers —

We are left with “experts” estimates of market share, some incomplete data about how the publishing industry or book retail is doing in aggregate, and a whole lot of anecdotes. (The anecdotes are understandable, perhaps; as a group we do like to tell stories)

“I was just at a Big Box Bookstore in Podunk Adjacent off of State Route Zero, and let me tell you what I saw there…”
“I’ve been self publishing with Swindlepub Digital Editions for ever now, and let me tell you about my sales there…”
“We at Dirty Slabs of Pressed Wood Pulp, LLC, are just a small press compared to the Top Ten or Big Six or Big Five** but not only are we forward-looking, with both a website and a facebook page, we’re also moving forward with ebooks — in about 18 months time. But recently we’ve been stymied by DanubeVolga. Let me tell you about their most recent nefarious plot…”
“Sisyphus & Damocles Books has been open for decades now, here in northcentral Bumblebridge, and we’ve been proud to serve our community. Recently though, times have been harder. Let me tell you our story…”

* (book bloggers as a term including the book/publishing business bloggers, book reviewers, authors, editors, the occasional mainstream-but-web-only magazine writer, and of course: drunk and pissed off booksellers — represent! — who blog in their free time)
** (why does talking about the book business this way make me think of college sports, and for all the same, wrong reasons?)
*** I hearby claim the trade names Dirty Slabs of Pressed Wood Pulp, Publisher and Sisyphus & Damocles Booksellers: Mine! Back off. If I win the lottery this week I’m going to have those incorporated by Friday.

Anecdotal evidence is the worst sort. We all have a story. Why, I work at a corporate chain bookstore where the phone rings off the hook, we’re grossing a good seven figures annually (no, not the number you initially thought of: better than that), and I personally am so overworked it seriously impacts my health. If physical books are dying, maybe they could do it a little faster, before I keel over from a heart attack?

##

SO:

assertion one: “Ebooks are going to completely displace other forms of books because of all the obvious advantages — speed of delivery, lower costs, the advantages of digital storage over the requirement of physical space for books, and (of course) disintermediation: e- facilitates an order-of-magnitude increase in access to markets by authors, and access to works by readers.”

verdict: True. but…

To me, it seems like the revolution already occurred back in 1993 and you all missed it. Every argument made for ebooks is also an argument that could be made about web pages: text served up via html and http actually has numerous advantages over .mobi, epub, and pdf (the current “e book” formats available to us).

A web page is open, active, engaging, and part of a larger conversation. Via hyperlinks, an author can automatically and seamlessly link to sources, whether they are linking to research, to other related works of their own, to maps and images that support the text, to notes in an appendix, or to The Fine Video Version of one of the earliest Musical Stylings of Sir Richard Astley.

Web sites and the related tools we use to access and browse them have already consumed the newspapers, are currently munching their way through the magazine herd (killing off the old and weak), and soon enough will also turn to face book publishing like a hungry predator.

The common objection that would enter at this point is “But, well ebooks aren’t web pages. Completely Different.” Right…

There is absolutely nothing stopping me from publishing a novel on the web. I could do it as a collection of chapters linked from a table-of-contents index page, I could do it as a series of blog posts (like an old Dickens novel, in magazine installments), I could even just put up 100,000 words in a single HTML or text document. Unlike music, images, or video – text is small: the “T” in HTML is text, as is the first “T” in HTTP. Text is web native.

Hell, one could do it in a Reddit thread. [Redditor Prufrock451 has a movie deal. So don’t tell me Reddit isn’t a viable publishing platform.]

Ebooks are, in fact, web pages [right down to the CSS, XHTML, and XML] — it would be trivial to code an ebook reader as an extension to Firefox and Chrome, just as there are currently pdf readers — and the rest is all marketing, and payments.

Payment is what it comes down to, and why so many are so insistent that ebooks are both new and special, as their current income streams are (in whole or in greatest part) dependent on sales via the current channels (primarily KDP, with a nod to Smashwords). Ebooks, as a payment model for authors, are great, fantastic even. Indeed, I thought the old model where we sold books through bookstores was also pretty great, as both a sales opportunity and payment model for authors.

Setting payments and royalties to one side, for now: The function the publishers serve (served?) was only secondarily as a source of ongoing income. Publishers provided advance capital for the production of books, as the party (the only party?) willing to assume pre-publication risks. While books-in-aggregate are a commodity in much demand, selling units in the millions annually, with revenue in the billions, and while also serving as source material for TV Shows, Movies, and mountains of internet fan fiction — each individual book, though, is something of a flyer, a bet on the part of author, editor, and publisher that this one book has what it takes to sell not just a thousand copies, but hundreds of thousands.

A publisher would pay an advance against future royalties, either on delivery of a manuscript or occasionally, a payment before the book was even finished. Indeed, the advance might have been the only thing that enabled the author to actually complete the book, given certain financial realities authors (and the rest of us) face.

After a publisher was done with it, the book would enter the realm of marketing, and the dire punishment of retail bookstores. Bookselling is an awful, soul-crushing business where we tease authors with the likes of Patterson, Grisham, and Rowling but the reality is your book gets 90 days (or less) in a retail store, with some decent placement before customers (assuming customers are browsing bookstores these days: the internet tells me they aren’t) (my personal experience as a bookseller contradicts that) but after the initial release window: well…

Bluntly: you’re screwed. Nah, I kid. No really, though: if this is your first book, unless you win the publishing-and-bookselling-hunger-games, you’re screwed.

As an author your best strategy for publishing is to keep writing – each new release sells the backlist, while your backlist builds the fan base. And This Was True in 1990, 1980, 1970, 1930 — before Amazon, ebooks, the world wide web, and every other wrinkle in the publishing industry since.

At least temporarily, ebooks and the various e-publishing platforms (functionally, as of 2013, that’d be KDP for the Amazon fans and Smashwords to help you pick up all the rest) are an excellent mechanism for payments – if you work at it. But ebooks are not a publishing platform, any more than blogging software is a publishing platform, or a working knowledge of CSS and HTML is a publishing platform.

Given that the web is your future — disintermediation taken to a logical extreme — well then: we need ways of monetizing books on the web that don’t rely on Amazon. Direct sales? Advertising? Subscriptions? A return to the 1400s economic model where people wrote because they had something to say and were copied because what they said was interesting and no one got paid? Because historically, that’s how publishing worked.

…just one more opportunity to link you to my 2009 essay: Form, Content, Copies, Rights, and Plato
[someone remind me to update that – I suppose I could wait for a 5th anniversary, but I think I should get to it before that]

If one is either advocating or defending ebooks, I’d just ask whether your focus is on the potential of ebooks as a new format — or merely on Amazon’s payment model. — you know, both are important (getting paid may actually may be more important) but it would be dishonest to conflate the two.

##

assertion two: “Bookstores are dead, the equivalent of buggywhip salesmen in an automobile age.”

verdict: False. well, “false” to a point…

I have a much longer post in the works on the social function of bookstores. If all we did was sell books, the fate of bookstores would be much more cut-and-dried, but your local bookstore is a social nexus: more of a coffee shop plus source of fallback (or primary) internet these days.

But even considering only the sale of books:

About once a day someone walks in, looking for a “coffee table book” on whatever topic: Alaska. Amsterdam. Australia. Belgian Beers. Coca-Cola memorabilia. Steam engine memorabilia. Sea shells. College Football. College Lacrosse. [Name your college] – [name the city] – [name the country] – [whatever]

Of Course there has to be one of those full-color, large format books on whichever topic because I, with only 1.5 hours to prepare, suddenly thought that such a book would now make a perfect gift – let me go ask my Local Big Box Bookstore.”

[*expletive deleted*]

(My inability to meet demand — indeed, the inability of anyone to meet unreasonable demands — doesn’t make the demand less important: this is an economic opportunity) (see also: Case Study #5 and how damnably tricky it is to stock “coffee table books”)

Horsepower used to be, well, Horse Power: you either schlepped it yourself, or you got on a horse. There was also a transitional period (roughly, 1810 to 1910) when long-distance travel became steam-powered but local traffic was still by horse. Parallel to that, was the replacement of horses on farms with tractors, combines, and other agricultural equipment. The Horse was once the go-to option for so many tasks, but the internal combustion engine changed all that. …Almost. In the modern age: we have both NASCAR and the Kentucky Derby.

Cars replaced carriages for daily transport and tractors replaced draft horses on the farm, but horses are still used for sport, recreation, and ranching.

…and even in a car-dominated landscape, so many of us walk. Some for recreation, even. [Hell, some people jog and run for fun…]

This isn’t the non-sequitur that it appears to be — I previously wrote on this topic in 2010: Publishing Buggywhips.

The web has had 20 years to totally overwhelm bookselling. In a buggywhip analogy, this would be like going from 1902 to 1922 with the concomitant sociological changes that accompany technological change. Bookselling is actually holding up pretty well, considering.

People today still walk into a bookstore, and then ask me for a book. They’re willing to pay a little more for the right kind of book. Sometimes it’s a book they didn’t even know they wanted, until they saw it at the store — a book completely unrelated to their initial query (the question that actually brought them through my door).

To beat a dead horse: The physical book is a dead as the horse.

But have you thought about how many horses there are, still working? It could be a horse-drawn carriage ride around Central Park, or the once-a-year attention paid to horse racing around the Derby, or Olympic equestrian events, or a rare opportunity to see the Lipizzaner Stallions. Hell, it could be show-jousting at Medieval Times. Even in a car-dominated future without a need for horses, we have both use cases and economic models that prove Horses Aren’t Dead Yet. These are all special cases: some are traditional, others historical artefacts, some intentional throwbacks to a historical age – no longer an actual economic use but sold to the public as a recreational opportunity.

(Books: Not Dead Yet.)

Do I want to live in a future where the only book stores are Book Museums? No. No, I do not.

But if that’s my option, you can bet your ass I’m dressing up as Ye Olde-fashioned Bookseller down at Colonial Barnes & Noble.

##

assertion three: “Well, *I* buy ebooks and everyone I know buys ebooks and my friends on twitter and facebook and offline buy ebooks and I just don’t see how bookstores are going to be viable in 5 years…”

verdict: So this is sampling bias, selection bias, confirmation bias or some combination of all three.

Let’s say you’re a blogger, writing about the publishing future and ebooks and perhaps specializing in ebook publishing tips for first-time digital authors. The comments on your well-thought-out opinion pieces and e-publishing link roundups all agree with you that dead-tree books are dead (or soon to be so) as are the physical storefronts that sell them, and even the delivery of books (physically) by UPS rather than digitally via Internet is only a transitional phase.

Ebook evangelists are like the newspaperman of 1923 bagging on the last remaining horses. Suddenly one notes the societal changes that have been occurring over decades, one picks the winning side, writes an essay, and then you pat yourself on the back. But there are many disruptions that will take place in the transition, and also future problems and fallout that you haven’t considered yet.

A world of ebooks without publishers is also a world without George R.R. Martin and Game of Thrones, a world without Robert Kirkman and Walking Dead, a world without J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter, a world without J.R.R. Tolkien and hobbits — hell, even a world without Tarzan, Conan, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Superman, Batman, and Finn.

We can sandbag on publishers all day, and not everything done in the name of business or publishing is gold, but if you believe that quality wins out, no matter the hype or the competition, or the handicaps the ‘independent’ faces — then fine: we agree to disagree.

The three legs of the tripod are Books, Film/TV Adaptation, and Fans — remove any one leg, and you no longer have a franchise: Star Wars originated as a film, but I can guarantee Lucas wouldn’t have made the Prequel Trilogy if it hadn’t been for decades of Del Rey Star Wars novels along with the massive collection of Dark Horse Star Wars Comics. Harry Potter was already a book phenomenon, but only steamrolled the teen & tween fanbase after Warner Brothers started making films. Game of Thrones (book fans know the series as “A Song of Ice and Fire”) was a perpetual runner up to Wheel of Time until HBO took Martin’s series under its wing. And while discerning comic book aficionados were both familiar with and (dare I say) rabid fans of Kirkman’s work, it took a TV Show to make the Walking Dead a mainstream fan property.

Lord of the Rings, anyone? How about three, count ‘em, three Hobbit movies? (There was only the one book…) Oh, or Iron Man? Who was an Iron Man fan 2005? …yeah, put your hand down; you’re lying.

What do all of these franchises have in common? Corporate backing, big-name publishers (OK, I’m giving Image Comics a pass here, they are ‘big enough’), fan enthusiasm, and books stocked in bookstores.

Right now, all those mainstream fans of nearly every franchise know about bookstores; there’s one out by the mall, down the street from the cineplex, next to Joe’s Crab Shack. Most of those fans — let’s call them civilians — don’t know or care about ebooks. They may or may not own a tablet, they certainly don’t own an ereader, they own a smart phone but they use it for Angry Birds, to text, and [*gasp*] to make the odd phone call. And they don’t care about ebooks. They buy one, or maybe two books a year. They outnumber you, ebook fanboy. Between the 22% who reported they read no books last year and the 31% that read between 1 and 5 books, That’d be half of everybody.

From the link above: “The shift toward e-book… is being driven by those who are college educated, those living in higher-income households, and those ages 30-49. Those groups disproportionately report they were reading e-books.”

If you match that description, fine. You have your personal anecdotal evidence and I just handed you 2-year old Pew Research data to back up some of your points.

But what about the Hunger Games, Twilight, Beautiful Creatures, Vampire Academy, Pretty Little Liars, Blue Bloods, plus a couple dozen you and I forgot about — Past the first two, I can’t say I’ve heard of any of these properties lighting up the ebook charts. But they sell books, initially sufficient to prompt the adaptation and then like bonkers once comely actors are attached and pictures hit the internet.

Yes, indeed: the internet sells books. But it’s more about teen heartthrobs and Google Image Search, and less about Amazon and KDP.

##

What we have here is a stalemate: On the one side, we have ebooks. Apparently everyone, even my Mom [true fact], is buying ebooks — and I, the Lone (old-school, physical bookshop) Bookseller Left on the Internet… I’m just a plaintive, fading voice in the e-wilderness, unable to see the e-forest for the e-trees.

I’ve been assured that the digital revolution has already taken place and we’re just taking a decade or two to sort through digital winners and losers, and well: nothing I’ve said or can say will shake your convictions.

[*ahem*]

“To me, it seems like the revolution already occurred back in 1993 and you all missed it. Every argument made for ebooks is also an argument that could be made about web pages: text served up via html and http actually has numerous advantages over .mobi, epub, and pdf (the current “e book” formats available to us).”

The digital revolution already happened. I’m defending one payment structure: distribution and sales of books through bookstores. Ebook partisans are merely defending a different payment structure, Amazon et al. and the “electronic book” — but both models are susceptible to digital disruption.

“Modern” publishing (I’m going to pick 1836) had a good run, 1836-2007 — 172 years. Over the course of that run, corporations lived and died, business models rose and fell, new and cheaper book formats were born, and at the tail-end of that era: the internet came to prominence. We are now 5 years into the “new” publishing model…

Or, we are 5 years into a dead cat bounce. Are “Kindle ebooks” the future, or merely that last gasp of 200 years of publishing business?

I think the current environment has much more in common with the post-Gutenberg early era of newspapers (1605-1700): we are still figuring out what the platform can be used for, what we want to use it for, and how we can use internet publishing to make money. (I’ll remind you again here: Dickens’ first book was serialized in an 1836 magazine.) Straight, non-DRM web distribution is still the disrupting factor that has yet to be felt in Amazon’s KDP biodome, and however enamored one is of Amazon’s ebook payment structure — the payments have nothing to do with books or publishing. Project Gutenberg predates the Kindle by 37 years, the Internet Archive hosts 4.4 Million ebooks, and facilitates 15 Million downloads each month [hattip] — so, yeah.

Amazon’s e- efforts almost seem like a sideline in comparison.

The book is dead. Long live the book.

And before you come at me as obviously wrong [I am, as always, obviously wrong], ask yourself: “Am I about to defend books, digital distribution, or merely the new payment models that have been laid over the old publishing model?”

and with that parting shot: I open the floor for discussion.



This Week On Twitter, An Origin Story

filed under , 21 July 2013, 11:41 by

For those who weren’t already aware, I spend entirely too much time on twitter.

(You, too can follow me, if you dare, at http://twitter.com/ProfessorBlind) (Why ‘professor’, you ask? My name was taken, my first-initial-last-name was taken, ‘rocketbomber’ — obvious, right? — was taken, ‘beerdisposalunit’ was taken, so like so many of us in the modern age: I had to get creative.) (Of course I’m a professor — that’s what they call people who go to university for more than seven years, right?)

While I often posts rants about work on twitter (or other drunken commentary) for the most part I use the twitter platform to share links. Sharing in real time, more or less; I read something, I tweet the link.

This behavior is fine. (nothing out of the ordinary) But I’ve found that the time on twitter takes away from time spent reading books, watching DVDs, and time spent writing. Still, the investment of time can hardly be considered wasted so long as I’m enjoying myself, and if I can repurpose the tweets into, say, a weekly roundup of links to be posted to the blog…

And so, a new weekly feature. I think this will post noonish on Sundays.

[and no: not every tweet. But most if not all of the links]

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That’s it for this week. Is this a worthwhile exercise? tell me in the comments …↓



Book Farms

filed under , 19 July 2013, 20:25 by

I do love me a good metaphor. This one is truer than most:

books = food

Bookstores = farmer’s markets

film, tv = processed foods, that require a steady stream of books to keep the factories churning

ebooks = hot pockets.



A Different Analogy.

filed under , 17 July 2013, 10:02 by

note from MB: this extended aside was written as part of a longer post on the Business of Bookselling – the idea was compelling (to me) but not a good fit for the larger argument I was trying to make. Not one to be wasteful, I decided to pull it out for its own post. There isn’t an argument here (at least not a complete argument) (or a firm conclusion), but I feel the analogy might give some folks a new perspective on just how tough it is to sell books these days.

##

The Pie’s the Thing.

Let’s say I save my nickles and pennies and decide to open up a restaurant. I notice folks like pizza, so I decide to make it a pizza restaurant.

To keep things easy (on me and my staff) even before I open, I also decide it’s going to be a pizza buffet – one of those all-you-can-eat types — we pick the top 20 favorite pizza-topping-combinations, we arrange to have at least 10 of those 20 coming out hot and ready to eat multiple times throughout the lunch and dinner service, on a easily-browsed buffet line where you can see what we have and grab it. Cashier is to your left.

We’ll cycle through recipes to keep things interesting, so the next time you come in, you might not see an old favorite, but it’ll be back soon. With the recipes, a small staff, and a plan: we’re good to go. We advertise the pizza buffet, we open for business…

And our customers aren’t having any of it.

Instead of grabbing a plate and taking pizza off the buffet service line, everyone who comes in just grabs a table and waits. They demand someone comes to the table to take their order, even though (from the sign outside, to the service line inside, right down to how the tables are arranged and the whole restaurant is set up) it should be obvious this is a take-what-you-want buffet-style dinner service.

“You sell pizza here, don’t you? As soon as you send a waitress to my table, I’ll order.”

…but sir…

“What kind of restaurant are you running here? No one has been by to take my order and it’s been 5 minutes!”

…but sir, this is a buffet, you can just help yourself…

NONSENSE. If you sell pizza, you have to be a full-service restaurant. That’s obvious. That’s the only way to sell pizza. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? … I’m Still Waiting…

##

This is the Booksellers Conundrum — we do everything we can, to make the books easy to find, and all day long the customers ignore signs, refuse to walk more than 20 feet, and generally flop around the main aisle,

“Oh your store is *So Big*! How does one find anything?”

On top of that, no one can run a bookstore unless we also provide the equivalent of a research librarian with a graduate degree. “I need a book comparing the economic impacts of solar and other ‘green’ alternative energy sources vs the so-called cost savings we enjoy because fossil fuels are an established industry where historic investments and other sunk costs have already been repaid.”

come again? Of course that wasn’t a real question: the customer asked “Where are the books on solar energy?” — I didn’t get to what the customer *really* needed (the chunka-text above) until we’d been looking through the bookstore for a good 15 minutes. Pro-tip: if you’re writing a graduate paper on it, there likely isn’t a book about that specific topic yet.

“Yeah, I don’t have a title or author, but I need anything you might have on the import-export business, logistics, and agile business management.” “Yeah, I just heard an interview on the radio but I didn’t catch the author’s name but the book sounded really interesting, do you have it?” “This is great, but do you have any books on organic ostrich farming?”

##

[bored]hi my name is matt i am your waiter how can i serve you today.[/bored]

“Great! So it turns out everyone at the table wants something different but we’re not sure exactly what; say, instead of this menu can we see the pizzas? and you do sell by the slice, right?”

*facepalm*

So. um. We’ve set up a beautiful buffet, and instead of looking at it [browsing the bookshelves] you want someone to tell you what’s on there, then bring the options to you so you can then critique our selections and tell us how bad we are at our jobs?

Oh, I’m not done with the pizza metaphor yet. Two weeks into running our buffet/sudden-full-service-pizzaria, the phone starts ringing.

“Hello, yes, I need 2 lbs. of buffalo mozzarella”

what?

“yes 2 lbs. of buffalo mozzarella, can I pick it up this afternoon?”

um, what?

“Surely this can’t be the first time you’ve been asked; you do sell pizza, right? I just need 2 lbs of buffalo mozzarella and I’d like to pick it up today.”

We do sell pizza, but, um, you want us to just sell you the ingredients?

YES. Man you’re slow.”

But sir, we’re not really set up for…

AHEM. So. You sell Pizza, yes?”

…yes…

“And you use mozzarella, yes?”

…yes…

“And so you have mozzarella for sale, yes? …yes?”

…um, when you put it that way…

“So I’ll be by in 2 hours – ah no wait, I’ll be busy – I’ll send someone by in 2 hours, just have my cheese ready for them to pick up.”

What? Ah, sir we sell pizzas…

“Well you certainly won’t be selling them very long if this is your attitude toward customer service. Hmf!”

##

The bookstore is set up for discovery. You come in, you browse, you read the jacket copy, maybe a chapter or two, and eventually: you buy. The bookstore is an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Our customers no longer treat us as such. Customers come in, cruise right up to the information desk, and they demand books (and get pissy when we’re sold out of, say, The Cuckoo’s Calling) or they get on the phone and treat us like a pizza place: “I need 12 copies of Maxwell’s Failing Forward and Bob the unpaid intern will be there by 2pm to pick them up. Oh, even better: can I give you my credit card over the phone? You don’t deliver, by the way, do you?”

Oddly enough: we weren’t set up for that.

Before you say, “Well that’s your job, isn’t it?” — How many retailers have 4 separate phone lines to handle the daily customer call volume? And please tell me which other retailers have an information desk? No, not a customer service desk, but an honest-to-god information desk where a part-timer making minimum wage is expected to routinely make recommendations based on their personal comprehensive knowledge of Literature, History, Philosophy, Religion, Sociology, Psychology, Technology, Foreign Languages, Pop Culture, what the kids are reading, what Oprah is reading — oh, and of course, at least some familiarity with the sentimental poetry of Alphonse de Lamartine.

The question at a retailer is, “which aisle has Peanut Butter?”

I don’t know what bookselling is anymore, but it ain’t retail. Retail is the income producing activity that funds the rest, but our job is not retail.

We will try to accommodate you as much as we can, but you’re treating an all-you-can-eat, $4.99 pizza lunch buffet like a personal caterer and specialty grocery store. Instead of enjoying the local neighborhood bookstore for what it is, and relishing that, *reveling* in it: everyone wants their local bookstore to also be the internet.

Yes, your local bookstore can and does do special orders. Why is this the obligation of bookstores, though? Say you heard of a trendy lipstick, one not carried locally — do you demand your local CVS special order it for you, have a clerk call you when it gets in, hold it for 2 weeks so you have plenty of time to pick it up — and not charge you anything if you change your mind, or forget and never pick it up, or find it cheaper online somewhere so there’s no need to buy it?

[back to food analogies]

Sizzle vs. Steak

One can order certain cuts of beef online, frozen, [I hate to advertise for a specific company; a search will pull up multiple vendors, or at least the one very large vendor] and for as little as $4 a meal, you can get steaks and burgers delivered to your home (packed in dry ice) ready for skillet or grill. Going to a warehouse-style store (CostCo or similar) you can likely get the same cuts at a discount, as little as $2 a pound, if you are willing to do a little work yourself in re-portioning and re-packaging and freezing.

Even at the local supermarket, by watching sales, I can manage $6-a-steak for a large hunk-of-entree (boneless rib-eyes are a personal fav) that can be cooked at home with minimal fuss.

And of course: That same hunk of meat will cost you $16 minimum, and maybe $20 or $25 at a fine dining establishment.

Same cow. Same meat. Same cut. $25. “But it costs me $6 at the grocery store! and hell, I bet I could go on the internet and mail-order that same steak for $2!”

One could argue that at the steak house, you’re paying for the sizzle, not the steak. The presentation, the expert preparation, the ideal sides, the experience. One certainly can order a steak online, sitting at home, and with some work, yes, indeed, it’s the same steak. But that $25 buys you more, a lot more (subjectively), when you get the same steak at a steak house.

What does this have to do with books?
[besides an obvious parallel price point, he asked, knowingly]

When you buy a hardcover book, in its first week of release, even discounted [as they inevitably are these days] you’re still paying $20 for what-is-eventually-going-to-be-a-$7-book for what, exactly?

Well, obviously, it’s a physical book and you get to read it. As a physical book, others see you reading it. You can lend it out when you’re done, or leave it on the coffee table so your guests can see what you’re reading. When you put it on your shelf at home, visitors to your home can see that you didn’t wait for the paperback: you like this author enough to buy it in hardcover.

You spent $20 for the sizzle, not the steak.

In an age where the ebook releases simultaneously with the hardcover and immediately undercuts it on price (whether we’re talking $16 or $14 or $9.99) — the portion of the market that buys New-York-Times-Bestselling-Author hardcovers on the day of release is still the same. By analogy: the market for $25 steaks is not the same as the market for raw meat. There will always be a opening in whatever market for the “sizzle”.

And all other things being equal, why would someone buy a book at a bookstore when there is an e-book version available for less? That’s a philosophical question.

Why would someone buy a CD for $12.99 when the same music is available from iTunes for $8.99? Do they not use iTunes? Do they not like iTunes? Do they just want a physical copy that they own without the digital nonsense?

Maybe they like the flexibility of a book, not tied to a device. Maybe they’re my grandma, and they don’t have the requisite device.

Maybe they come to the bookstore because we stock books — a great big beautiful book buffet — and the fact that such a place exists in their neighborhood is reason enough to go there, and shop there, and yes, buy the so-called “overpriced” version.

##

There are a whole lot of folks (up to and including all of Wall Street) willing to conflate mail-order with retail – to the detriment of both. Analysts and journalists who aren’t really readers themselves (I can tell) are more than willing to dump all over book retail, present their own opinions as market realities, and declare the bookstore dead before they themselves even bother to walk into one.



Bookselling: Not Dead Yet.

filed under , 12 July 2013, 18:31 by

[feeling better] [‘tis only a scratch]

Books are a 27 Billion Dollar business.

That would be a U.S., 2012 number; and even after we exclude the massive K-12 & Collegiate text book business, BookStats calculates the entire U.S. trade book industry (i.e. what you’re buying) is still $15 Billion, up 6.9 percent from 2011. [BookStats estimate for 2012 quoted here]

In parallel, the US Census Bureau reported that Bookstore Retail for 2012 was $13.4B of that total. Obviously there are differences between the two numbers — total Book Retail ≠ Publisher Revenue, not least because there are multiple sales channels, all the annoying non-book product lines invading most bookstores, and of course the fact that publishers sell to retailers wholesale at a discount. These are the numbers, though — and I’ll remind you the Census retail number is for *stores* and does not include online sales.

For comparison:

  • 2012 U.S./Canada Box Office was $10.8 Billion, up 6% compared to $10.2 billion in 2011 [Source: MPAA, pdf]
  • 2012 Consumer Spending on Home Entertainment (DVDs, Blu-rays, and Video On Demand) was $18 Billion [Source: Digital Entertainment Group, pdf]
  • 2012 Television Production (television programming only, excluding broadcast and cable networks, and Movie production) was a $36B business [source: IBISWorld]
  • And lastly: In 2012, the “traditional video game market” (excluding mobile) was $58 Billion [Source: Reuters]
    (also, HA! ‘traditional’ video games! next we’ll be hearing about “artisanal locally-sourced small-batch” video games)

Of course, it is easy to conflate the manufacturing, distribution, and ‘retail’ segments in any content business — the dollars spent in aggregate are no guarantee for anyone of future business, or proof of any particular business model. As much as some people may miss the old Tower Records storefronts (“Tower Records” still exists as a bad website, and as a licensed brand outside the US) the old record store model was not sustainable in a new world of MP3s and streaming digital.

[I might argue that point… but that’d be a different essay]

Anyway, the point we’re starting with is that Billions are made in the manufacture and sales of books — and while $10 Billion can be tucked into Amazon’s revenues and all but disappear, Books Are Not Amazon. Or Dead… Yet… or ever… I hope.

##

Since at least 1744, there have always been two parallel tracks for book sales: the retail bookseller, and the mail order catalog. If it is not immediately obvious, Amazon is in fact a mail order business, juiced and enabled by the internet but still a very different shopping experience from storefront retail.

Mail order got a big boost in the 1880s when Sears, Roebuck, & Co. leveraged the network [a rail network] to speed up both ordering and fulfillment by an order of magnitude. Amazon is a big damn company, books are a minor sideline these days — but that fraction of Amazon that sells stuff is the heir of Sears & Roebuck, an obvious evolution and not something that is new or revolutionary.

Books by mail became a thing (a massive, popular thing) 70 years before Amazon with the Book of the Month Club: After a couple of false starts, the now-iconic Book of the Month Club was founded in 1926 and by the 40s was (arguably) the nation’s largest bookseller. [I don’t have 1940s book retail numbers in front of me at the moment, hence the qualifier, but in 1949 after a little over 20 years in business, the BotMC shipped it’s 100 Millionth book.]

This history of the Book of the Month Club is incomplete, especially as it seems to stop in 1994, but in addition to the 100-Million factoid above, there are some other great nuggets:

“Although BOMC’s membership continued to grow in the first half of the 1960s, the company’s sales began to stagnate as the impact of increased numbers of retail book stores — many of which sold bestsellers at discount prices — was felt. Another important factor was the rise of paperback books. The proliferation of book clubs and the resulting competition was yet another cause for the slump. Between 1962 and 1963, BOMC saw its sales slip from $19.8 million to $17.6 million. To compensate for the shrinking number of books purchased by members, the company spent more money on promotion to beef up membership.”

Widespread discounting of bestsellers, the popularity of a new format, and newly expanded competing sales channels led to flat growth of an established book seller? You don’t say.

“In the early 1980s the company determined that there was money to be made by publishing books on its own or in cooperation with publishers, rather than only buying the rights from publishers to sell BOMC editions of their books. In 1982 BOMC established its own original publishing division. Its first publishing projects were reprints of such classics as All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren (published by BOMC in 1982), William Shirer’s Berlin Diary (published in 1987), and the Revised English Bible (published in 1989). The publishing division then moved on to anthologies and multivolume sets.”

Moving beyond book sales and into publishing? Rescuing forgotten titles and publishing the classics? Why does that sound familiar?

The New York Times reporting in 2001:
[blockquote]
“Since the 1980’s, however, the club system has been under duress. National bookstore chains made books more widely available, alleviating the need for mail-order services. Then online retailers began competing to sell books even to the truly isolated or lazy. As a handful of perennial blockbuster authors came to dominate best-seller lists, the club’s management began paying multimillion-dollar contracts for the rights to several of an author’s future books at once.

“Even the idea of a single ‘book of the month’ was becoming obsolete. Computerized databases enabled the club’s managers to tailor the ‘main selection’ each month to the previous buying habits of individual members. A member who responded well to nonfiction would see a steady diet of it as the club’s main selection, while a neighbor might receive only novels.”[/blockquote]

“The Book-of-the-Month Club Tries to Be More Of-the-Moment; New Judges and Niche Marketing Are Part of a Comeback Plan” : David D. Kirkpatrick, NYT, 28 June 2001

Goodness, using computerized inventory and sales history data to individually tailor recommendations.

“There is one kind of book club which could have a bright future: specialist clubs that harness the internet. Two successful new clubs in recent years have been Bertelsmann’s Black Expressions in America, aimed at black women, and Mosaico, a Spanish-language club. For specialist titles, bookstores cannot compete for range with a book club, and the internet lacks the personal touch of a trusted team of editors.”
“Book clubs: The final chapter? The future looks bleak for an archaic corner of old media” : The Economist, 15 May 2008

If someone at The Book of the Month Club had thought to engage their readers/customers on a Goodreads level, the past two decades in book retail would have unfolded very differently. If Goodreads had bought the BotMC in 2008, instead of being acquired themselves by Amazon… well, what-if games are hardly productive and do little to change conditions on the ground.

However: History (in retail or otherwise) is hardly as inevitable as it seems, and the future is more fluid than most realize.

##

The past 20 years of Books is not the story of The Big Box Bookstore, nor was it all about The Rise of Online Empires.

The success of both the nationwide chains and of Amazon are both aspects of a single phenomenon: The past 20 years of bookselling are best seen as a change in customer demand for books.

There has been a lot of noise and bluster about showrooming, the book discovery “problem”, the merits of book recommendation algorithms, and the shrinking shelfspace allotted to books in stores. In my opinion, way too many of these opinion pieces romanticize bookstores and don’t take into account how everything has changed since 1993. You know, 1993? World Wide Web, you might have heard of it?

Before the web — and web browsers, the now-invisible but indispensable invention — There was no “online”. At least not in the ways we casually assume today…

The conversation began with pulps in the 30s and Zines in the 60s. As in so many other aspects of our modern life, technology took these modest print efforts and dialed it up to 11: more reviews, more posted reading lists, more fan-to-fan conversation, discussion, flame wars, and FAQs: more fan nexus — hell, being able to even find other fans who like what you do — this “book discovery” that was about Individual Enthusiasm and Consistent Effort and Engagement — that had nothing to do with Amazon and everything to do with dial-up BBS, CompuServe forums, Usenet groups, Listserv mailing lists, and all the other proto-Reddits that your Grandma used a long long time before you, youngling, fired up your first Game Boy for the pokemons.

And yes, while my own experience is heavily sci-fi flavoured, the genres/pulps are the industry leaders in publishing: first to paperback, first to e-, first to a self-sustaining internet community telling stories entirely divorced from the publishing treadmill. Evolution, growth, and development take place on the margins, and the fringe.

In 20 years, discovery hasn’t changed: There is nothing Amazon’s user reviews add to the process that wasn’t already there in the letters column of a fan zine. It is all about the dialog, even when (these days) the dialog is with a machine. “What’s Hot, What’s New?”

Anatomy of Book Discovery: A Case Study : Patrick Brown, posted to Goodreads, 14 June 2012

Book Discovery: Give Me Blind Dates With Books Suw Charman-Anderson, Forbes, 28 March 2013. check the update at the bottom of that article; it led directly to the new website http://www.nonamesnojackets.com/

Why online book discovery is broken (and how to fix it) : Laura Hazard Owen, PaidContent, 17 January 2013

The discovery process is the same today as it might have been in 1989. What has changed is the volume of information available to readers. Once, you had the NYT Book Review, the New York Review of Books, a handful of others… now a world of reviews are a Google search away.

The increase in information about books led to a subsequent demand for books: You have no idea how much you want something if haven’t heard of it yet. There has also been an explosion of “broadcast channels” discussing and recommending books; the biggest of these was Oprah (is Oprah? How’s her book club v2.0 working out) but what other individual sites lack in stature, they more than make up for in numbers: 1000s of people with blogs (or tumblrs, or pinterest boards) (or even maybe facebook – I’m not on facebook so I don’t know about book culture there) — tens of thousands of mini-channels, and at least a dozen ‘major’ sites, all discussing books.

The change in customer demand is often referred to today as “The Long Tail”, a term coined (and/or repurposed to describe this phenomenon) by Chris Anderson — don’t get too bogged down in the Wikipedia entry on this one: that was hijacked by some math nerds a few years back — the basics of the long tail is that when customers can find obscure books they are also more likely to buy them. The immediate corollary is that someone, somewhere will buy even the most obscure book but only if they know about it — undiscovered is the same, functionally, as out of print.

Many commentators describe The Long Tail as uniquely an internet phenomenon, something that only came about with the rise of internet retailers. I politely disagree, and if you would care to know why: I invite you to get a job at a big box bookstore. Come work for me for a month. Answer the phones. Deal with the shopping public.

The change in customer demand does not begin and end with a web site and is not limited to online sales. When someone wants a book, they will seek it out from any retailer, and their buying decision is affected not by the discovery process but rather the same mix of price and convenience that backs all of their sales decisions. Say you just heard about the Cotton Malone thriller series from author Steve Berry – you may not have heard of Steve before (he’s a NYT bestselling author now, but also a bit of a b-lister) (sorry, Steve) — but via some mechanism on the internet, like a by-the-way-comment in a tangentially related blog post you suddenly are aware of The Templar Legacy (isbn 9780345476159) and you think, “Hey, maybe I should read that.”

So you pick up the phone, call your local bookstore – they have it, and you buy it over the weekend. You’re out running errands anyway on Saturday, stopping by the bookstore is easy. Convenience is a matter of personal perspective: maybe ordering online is easier, But There Is At Least One Bookstore Chain With 700+ Stores (still out there in July of 2013, even, not dead yet) and for many people it’s easier to buy in stores.

This example is not only hypothetical, but even if I’m right, the story is anecdotal. Online retail is obviously taking over everything. It’s not like I can point to 13 Billion Dollars in store-front retail book sales as reported by the US Census Bureau or 4.5 Billion in retail sales from a major chain — in an economy that may be recovering but still sucks.

…Nobody is going to a book store anymore, obviously.

When we talk about bookselling, we throw around figures in the billions – in the arena of business news, this isn’t enough to register with observers.

We can talk about monthly sales in the hundreds of millions. I can point out that with reported annual book store sales of $13 Billion, that means bookstores bank more than one billion dollars every month — on average, anyway ;) — and I’ll remind you a third time that the US Census reporting on book stores explicitly excludes online sales channels.

An industry that is dying, obviously.

##

For those who might argue otherwise: That bookselling is in decline, that retail storefronts can in no way compete with the efficiencies of online retailers, or even that no one wants a bookstore any more. Well, that is another topic.

[update 14 July 2013, 5:00pm EST : some sentences were added to clarify my thoughts on how the explosion of information on the internet is what expanded customer demand.]



The Wake

filed under , 2 July 2013, 02:14 by

A Wake for Google Reader
alt. title: In the wake of Google Reader

I’m still working on the next huge draft — a post on bookselling, oddly enough (yeah, yeah, I know) — but given that today is July 2nd and we are all waking to a Google-Reader-Free world, I thought I’d take a moment to celebrate that, or commiserate, or whatever.

So. Now what.

Simple, for most: http://www.purplegene.com/reader

…ok, so I’m pulling your leg. Yes, most of us are on Feedly and the transition is relatively painless. (Though go check out Purple Gene – it’s rough and tumble, but it might rub you in the right ways.)

For me, the past few months have been an opportunity to examine and re-examine my whole data diet: what I read, how I read it, why I read certain things, and why some people/sites/corporations insist on making it way more difficult than it should be. After all of that, and after months of navel gazing (here, read a ‘progress’ post from three months ago) I actually ended up unfollowing about 100 people on twitter, removed about a third of my RSS feeds, pushed another third into a new folder named “skippable” (guess why) and then conscientiously built a new data diet, adding a bunch of new feeds and sources until I’m back up to ~150 RSS Feeds in my ‘daily’.

[see also, re: information diet – http://www.informationdiet.com/ and the Clay Johnson book, isbn 9781449304683]

Some take-away thoughts:

  • There really is a 9-5, Monday-to-Friday internet: a lot of news sites and even many blogs post, yes, during the day and also mostly during the week. On the weekends my collective feeds drop from 500+ articles daily down to about 100. It works, especially as several sites I like to follow do link-roundups or “Sunday Long Reads” — but this was an interesting reveal.
  • Following a tumblr via RSS is so much better than trying to keep up with everything from the dash. The real gems of tumblr I follow via reader – a lot of the rest is still great, for what it is [tumblr] but I only read them (Ha! ‘reading’ tumblr; it’s an image browser) when I run out of RSS-fed articles.
  • Prismatic, op. cit., is also an excellent 2nd source — a way to extend your reading day after you run to the end of your RSS feeds. – bonus: Prismatic occasionally turns up blogs you’d never find otherwise, which you can then subscribe to via RSS
  • The “Death of Google Reader” is a like, top-5-all-time, Nerd World Problem. We just wouldn’t shut up about it, but in the end: it is all fizzle no bang.

More:

http://www.the-digital-reader.com/2013/03/14/four-google-reader-alternatives-for-the-hard-core-user/
http://mashable.com/2013/06/19/feedly-google-reader/
http://blog.feedly.com/2013/06/19/feedly-cloud/
http://gizmodo.com/its-now-super-easy-to-jump-from-google-reader-to-the-b-514258503
http://techcrunch.com/2013/06/22/rss-readersplosion-shows-a-lot-of-skating-to-where-the-puck-has-been/
http://techcrunch.com/2013/06/24/there-is-no-google-reader-replacement-only-alternatives/
http://www.theverge.com/2013/6/24/4460502/just-over-a-week-until-rss-apocalypse-where-are-you-moving
http://gigaom.com/2013/06/24/why-does-everyone-except-google-want-to-build-a-reader/
http://www.wired.com/gadgetlab/2013/06/where-to-take-your-google-reader-subscriptions-and-how/
http://techcrunch.com/2013/06/29/you-cant-quit-google-reader-because-i-already-fired-you/
http://daltoncaldwell.com/where-will-google-reader-traffic-go
http://makezine.com/2013/07/01/survey-says-google-reader-users-headed-to-feedly/
http://www.npr.org/blogs/alltechconsidered/2013/06/30/195875609/q-a-on-the-death-of-google-reader-and-the-future-of-reading
http://readwrite.com/2013/07/01/how-to-make-news-readers-work-for-you
http://techcrunch.com/2013/07/01/we-were-the-1000-goodbye-google-reader/
http://just-ask-kim.com/google-graveyard-infographic/
http://alternativeto.net/software/google-reader/

…and now I promise to shut up about this particular topic on twitter. Promise.
…Oh, after I tweet this post. And maybe 1 RT in the morning. ;)



Some thoughts on Amazon's Breakthrough Novel program.

filed under , 26 June 2013, 14:43 by

I don’t want to detract at all from the points made (and the excellent writing done) by Porter Anderson over in his recent (20 June) Writing on the Ether column, While You Were Bashing Amazon

Summary: “On the Ether at JaneFriedman.com, Porter Anderson looks at Amazon Publishing’s latest strides — including $110,000 in Breakthrough Novel Award publishing contracts for authors and a new million-copy seller in translation.”

Flavour Quote: “Self-publication wasn’t a requirement of the competition, nor was it a problem. The rules of the Breakthrough Novel Award program prohibit entering material that has been under a publishing contract currently or previously. But as long as the rights have never left the author, an entry is valid. The entry period is normally in mid- to late-January. Up to 10,000 people can make one entry each. The competition, and the voting on the winners, is international and goes through several stages of selection and elimination. Walker remembers her self-published effort not quite languishing but not taking off, either. ‘I got a lot of good reviews. I won’t even tell you it was selling okay. It was tolerable, a few sales a week. For an indie author, that being my first book, and knowing it was part of a series, that was hopeful.’”

Money Quote: “While its challenges are contemporary, Amazon Publishing may have had no more difficulty finding traction in the market in its first couple of years than many of the well-established houses initially experienced decades ago. The ‘breakthroughs’ celebrated over the weekend may not lie only in those contracts for writers.

“And however many in Old Publishing may still decry Amazon Publishing as an incursion, many entrepreneurial authors recognize it as a new-work-nourishing player indigenous to an unprecedented global marketplace.”

As is typical for Anderson: this installment of Writing on the Ether is a well-thought-out, well-researched piece with plenty of links, quotes, and embedded tweets. And they post weekly. (Add JaneFriedman.com to your RSS feeds.)

You are both allowed and encouraged at this point to go read the whole thing.

##

Now, after reading about Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel contest and all the winners (a total of five authors across several genres) and the money involved (a $50,000 advance for a ‘no-name’, in 2013, is not unheard of but is still amazing) you might think that maybe Amazon isn’t too bad for books after all.

Maybe the tumult and pandemonium we’ve experienced over the past 15 years in bookselling and publishing (and technology, and the economy, and the plague of teen vampire fiction) have been worth it, because now on the other side things are easier than ever and hell, authors are even getting paid.

Indeed, for folks who are excited about books, the various Amazon imprints and the promotional programs and ebooks/Kindle/KDP and the huge stacks of money (filthy, glorious, internet-scale money) are all good things for books and authors, and the New Publishing that emerges will be better than the old regime it replaces. Sure, that’s fine.

“American Idol is an American reality-singing competition program created by Simon Fuller and produced by 19 Entertainment, and distributed by FremantleMedia North America. It began airing on Fox on June 11, 2002, as an addition to the Idols format based on the British series Pop Idol and has since become one of the most successful shows in the history of American television. For an unprecedented eight consecutive years, from the 2003–04 television season through the 2010–11 season, either its performance or result show had been ranked number one in U.S. television ratings. The concept of the series is to find new solo recording artists where the winner is determined by the viewers in America. Winners chosen by viewers through telephone, Internet, and SMS text voting.” : American Idol entry, on Wikipedia.

We can all remember how American Idol completely revitalized the music industry, right?

A contest is a contest, with winners and losers, and while I applaud the idea and congratulate the authors, I still object to manuscripts-as-lottery-tickets, and object most strenuously to manuscripts-as-lottery-tickets-as-a-business-model.

Writing is tough. Getting published used to be tough, now it’s “easy”, but the new barrier to entry is getting recognized, and our savior is not Amazon.

##

Let me pull back here from one more round of Amazon Bashing (because, as much as I enjoy it, it turns off many of my blog readers) and discuss publishing.

While many think the core unit of publishing is a huge multinational multimedia conglomerate, no, those monsters arose 30 years ago and gobbled up many of the ‘real’ publishers and subsumed them into the whole. The legacy publishers (post-gobbling) still exist as names-and-logos and are refered to as imprints of the larger ‘houses’ – ‘imprint’ as a term is also now often used to refer to some music labels (those wholly owned by the company that also distributes the music) and the music label analogy might work for some of you:

An imprint will have a staff that selects new works (books or music), works with the artist to polish and publish the work, ideally will have staff to market and promote the work, and also ideally will serve as advocate for the work in the event of legal trouble, or unfair competitive practices that limit the distribution of the work. Finally, an imprint should be interested in promoting the well-being of authors or artists (financially, primarily, but there are other ways to support authors), and encouraging and supporting them to produce more works.

Yes, I wear rose-colored glasses as I live in a sunshine-filled polly-anna world of rainbows and unicorns — but that aside, your publisher should have your back and the primary goal should be to make self-supporting, “good” works. A really trashy romance novel can still be a ‘good’ book; three-minute, three-cord, three-guitar-and-drums punk songs can still be ‘good’; a thousand-page tract on medieval farming techniques and the evolution of European plowshare and moldboard design (476-1349CE)… that only seven people will ever actually read… yes, can still be a ‘good’ work.

We all like to get paid. No disputing that. And the level at which a pulp novel is “self-supporting” is going to differ based on the goals of the author, the expectations of the publisher, and how much overhead each book has to carry.

For me: The core of publishing was the small publishing house that worked with their authors, built a small but meaningful backlist, didn’t sweat the money too much, and waited for the occasional bestseller not because it meant winning the book lottery, but because the occasional bestseller paid for the rest and supported the whole. Call me a big fan of Maxwell Perkins. (who is Maxwell Perkins, you ask? *sigh* – here, go read.)

In as much as Amazon’s Imprints can step in and achieve my ideal goal for publishers, to support authors in producing self-sustaining works, then I applaud their efforts and wish them well.

However, Amazon’s publishing efforts do not exist in a vacuum. A paranoid bookseller or small publisher might see these new imprints as part of a larger, systematic program carried out by Amazon to lock both readers and authors into a closed ecosystem (controlled by Amazon) while also continuing to parasitically suck the life out of the rest of industry.

In 2012, Amazon had $61.09 Billion in revenues. (They actually booked a loss of $39 Million because of acquisitions and investments in logistical support structure, but heh, they’re Amazon so Wall Street is cool with that.) A $50,000 advance to a first time author is one hell of a payday, though again not entirely unprecedented — but for Amazon: fifty grand is .0000008% of their sales in 2012. Less than one-millionth of the total. Amazon also ‘awarded’ four other runners-up $15,000 each; all together, for every million dollars Amazon made, they set aside $1.80 to fund this program. Amazingly generous.

I’d love to see this scaled up just a bit. And would it kill Amazon to make it an outright prize, and not just an advance on future royalties? Particularly when Amazon (and others) seem to have trouble with the accounting when it comes to author payments?

I could be a real ass and compare Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Award with B&N’s Discover Great New Writers program, which directly awards $10,000 to two winners annually and comes with in-store support and display space — running the same kind of calculation as above, the cash prizes are $2.94 out of every million dollars in sales (B&N reported $6.8 Billion in revenue for fiscal 2013) — but I suppose the catch is in the submission criteria for B&N: to be considered you need a published book, and your publisher has to submit your entry for you. If you have someone at your publisher or imprint who is supportive of you and your work, who “has your back”, that’s kind of a minor point. (the getting-published-on-dead-trees-bit is the taller hurdle)

##

Prizes and recognition are both excellent things for books. Not just these new programs but the established awards (Nobel, Booker, National, Pulitzer, et al.) and genre awards (where to start?) and I can’t say for sure that Amazon’s new program is bad, ill-advised, or exploitative — but given that the prizes are all publication deals with Amazon (not merely the recognition and money), it strikes me as more of an extremely creative way to manage the e-slush-pile of manuscripts than an award, and I object to it on those grounds.

Here’s an idea for Amazon: A Breakthrough Imprint Award — find an editor or publisher (publisher, in this case, referring to the person who runs a small press, magazine, or imprint) and give them enough money to hire a small staff, give them the “keys” to KDP such that author royalties would not go down and the imprint could take a small chunk of Amazon’s cut on a book, and give them 2 years to find authors and build up a backlist, and a brand. Let current imprints apply, too, but set aside enough cash to seed 50 imprints (or more) and really get the ball rolling on Amazon publishing. Back-of-the-envelope numbers – a quarter million would fund 2 full-time editors and a part-time office manager for two years at less-than-New-York-but-hardly-starvation salaries. $25 Million would fund a hundred of these seed programs — and with established e-book publishing channels taking care of the old printing and distribution tasks, books could be coming out of these imprints within months. A couple-hundred editors engaging thousands of authors with the intent of publishing great books — 100 imprints all working on defining their niche and building a great backlist. Give your publishers/EICs wide rein to consider any business model they like: monthly magazines, serialized novels, multi-author anthologies, “old fashioned” ebooks — so long as they sell as e-books or e-singles over your platform.

That’d be $12.5 Million a year as an ongoing investment — though I suppose you could declare a “winner” and cut the program early at any time. You could also treat that $250,000 as an advance against royalties (the 5% per book or whatever is determined) so you would still be out some cash, but in the process of making it back.

I give away these great business ideas because *I* personally don’t have that kind of cash hanging around. Amazon does. Barnes & Noble is in trouble but they could certainly spare $25 Million. The major houses might scrape up the same amount, too, if they thought it was worthwhile. (I’m starting to doubt their judgement.)

It’s a pity so much money gets pissed away on app development these days, when for a fraction of that we could be supporting the production of books. (and with the same-or-better success rate, if you ask me)



The New Pulp

filed under , 30 May 2013, 21:23 by

PULP.

Space opera, horror, spy stories, noir, aliens, westerns, romance, and stories of “adventure” — cheap, lurid, shunned by the ‘legitimate’ publishers, considered to be devoid of literary value, and utterly fantastic. The pulp magazines (and their later paperback reprints) didn’t sell in the bookstore but out of racks at the drug store, newsstand, and five-and-dime. The covers were vivid and promised action, adventure, and sex. The pulps were mined for decades by later authors — as well as filmmakers — and from these humble roots Most If Not All of our modern fiction derives. It may take someone like Stephen King, John le Carré, Anne Rice, Elmore Leonard, Danielle Steel, Robert B. Parker, or Nora Roberts to ‘rehabilitate’ a genre in the eyes of some, but I often find I prefer ‘original’ pulp (the trashier the better) to more evolved forms.

…and of course, where there is money to be made: even the stodgiest of New England literary publishers will come around. A few decades of history (and a history of past sales) will give any setting or genre enough of a patina to be called “an american tradition”.

This is not the introduction to a long dissertation on Pulp, however (one could earn several post-graduate degrees just surveying and cataloging the stuff), instead I wanted to make a completely different point:

E-Books and Self Publishing are the New Pulp — and this is also utterly fantastic.

##

Pulp.

The Wikipedia entry for “Pulp magazines”:

[blockquote]
“Pulp magazines (often referred to as ‘the pulps’) are inexpensive fiction magazines published from 1896 through the 1950s. The typical pulp magazine was 7 inches (18 cm) wide by 10 inches (25 cm) high, 0.5 inches (1.3 cm) thick, and 128 pages long. Pulps were printed on cheap paper with ragged, untrimmed edges.

“The term pulp derives from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed. Magazines printed on higher quality paper were called ‘glossies’ or ‘slicks’. In their first decades, pulps were most often priced at ten cents per magazine, while competing slicks were 25 cents apiece. Pulps were the successor to the penny dreadfuls, dime novels, and short fiction magazines of the 19th century. Although many respected writers wrote for pulps, the magazines are best remembered for their lurid and exploitative stories and sensational cover art. Modern superhero comic books are sometimes considered descendants of ‘hero pulps’; pulp magazines often featured illustrated novel-length stories of heroic characters, such as The Shadow, Doc Savage and The Phantom Detective.”
[/blockquote]

There are some minor additions to wikipedia in the block above: I did not alter the text, but I did add some links to topics wikieditors cited above (they either missed ‘em or were to lazy to go back and give readers a helpful pointer to other wiki articles; fixed that). I might also point interested readers to the Men’s Adventure magazines of the 50s, the last expression of the Pulps in actual pulp [here’s that wikipedia article], as well as to Wikipedia’s (mildly anemic) coverage of genre fiction generally.

The first half of the 20th century was rich ground for stories — because the plots, tropes, backdrops, and character-types of the 19th and previous centuries were pretty fertile to begin with and they were well-composted with a heavy layer of The Pulps.

Second blockquote:

(Quoting myself this time) “Form, Content, Copies, Rights, and Plato” : Matt Blind, RocketBomber.com, 17 November 2009

[blockquote]
“Paperbacks were and weren’t radical:

“Yes, they were cheaper. While initially introduced as value editions of the classics and bestsellers, soon the lower costs of manufacture induced some publishers to create new works (and whole genres) to take advantage of the format. Stories which might never have seen print due to either ‘lurid’ content or lack of a ‘literary’ appeal suddenly found a new home, and mountains of books were printed to feed the pulp market. Some of these were reprints of material previously available in fiction anthology magazines — a format that is, sadly, mostly extinct — the magazines fed a fan base that later bought the books, and the magazines were a crucible that forged not just the fans of the works but also their creators. Mystery, Romance, and Sci-fi all exist today as genres — popular genres that support their own hardcover releases — because of the decades of pulps… but that would be another essay.

“A paperback book has a floppy cover, but was still recognizable as a book. If one weren’t hung up on the literary ‘value’ and ‘merit’ of a Book-as-object, then the opportunity to buy one at a cheaper price because you want to, you know, enjoy it is a no-brainer. Here was the first movement toward books as popular entertainment, and also provided a way ‘in’, to merge centuries of Pop Culture Trash back into the literary tradition.”
[/blockquote]

third blockquote:

How Book Publishing Has Changed Since 1984 : Peter Osnos, The Atlantic, 12 April 2011

[blockquote]
“[H]ere is where books were sold in 1984: The biggest names in retailing were Walden, Dalton, and Crown, still relatively new as national chains. They made books available in malls as populations moved to the suburbs. Led by Crown, which was mainly in the Washington, D.C. area, the chains adopted discounting as a strategy and limited their selections to put greater emphasis on bestsellers and ‘category’ books such as self-help, diet, and romance. Barnes & Noble and Borders, which became dominant in the 1990s with superstores (absorbing Dalton and Walden, respectively; Crown went out of business), were still in their early stages. The rise of the chains had the greatest impact on department stores such as Macy’s and Marshall Fields, which in their heyday were centers of bookselling alongside housewares and clothing. By 1984, that era was ending.

“Independent bookstores — according to Carl’s estimate, there were about 3,500 full-service booksellers, which is twice the number there are today — played a major role, since they had the ability, when enthusiastic, to turn first novels into bestsellers. Some of today’s leading independents, such as Tattered Cover in Denver and Powell’s in Portland, were already influential. But many other stores of that era closed, overwhelmed by the chains and superstores, and eventually Amazon and the rise of online retailing. ‘Hand-selling,’ as it is known, is still the independents’ specialty, and while their role is smaller than it was, they remain at the spiritual core of publishing. It is encouraging to see so many of them holding their own and adapting to the digital age in various ways. In the past three years, several hundred new stores have opened, often where there were none before. At their best, the ‘indies’ anchor communities with author signings, reading groups and other events.

“The Book-of-the-Month Club and The Literary Guild were still very prominent in the 1980s, with millions of members. Their monthly choices were eagerly awaited by publishers. But, like the department stores, the ‘clubs’ gradually lost their place as bookselling moved into so many new venues, and their remnants focus on niche markets with much smaller constituencies.

….

“Mass-market paperbacks sold in drugstores and newsstands, which were expanding into malls also and were a very substantial business. One of the major developments at Random House in 1984 was the August publication as a trade paperback ‘original’ of Jay McInerney’s Bright Lights, Big City, an innovative novel that skipped the hardcover stage, captured the mood of Generation-X readers, and sold, over time, untold (I’m guessing millions) of copies. From then on, these originals, also known as “quality” paperbacks, to distinguish them in price and style from the drugstore variety, were ‘cool,’ and their aura expanded the market for trade paperbacks beyond the classic reprints that were their staple adding an important new category for readers at just the right time.”
[/blockquote]

I’m embarrassed to quote so heavily, but the article is an excellent source of perspective on the industry: Please read the whole thing and also read Peter Osnos’s follow-up, “Good Reviews Are No Longer Enough”.

Once again, though, I can add to the block from my own research: here are some primary sources on the book departments of the downtown department stores, which can be found on Google Books: from 1920 and 1949, which I first cited in an Amazon take-down back in 2009. For more on the 1990’s rise of the Big Box bookstores, I’d point you towards this essay, this link roundup, and this math- and graph-heavy post.

The Atlantic article gives us a definite point in time: 1984 — before the Big Box, before the internet, but also well after Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls and Naked Came the Stranger by “Penelope Ashe”. 1984 is 50 to 80 years removed from the Grand Pulp Era and at least 20 years after the last of the pulp magazines. Bright Lights, Big City is cited as the first “paperback original”, which is a tad disingenuous considering the decades of pulp-reprints in the format, but considering that just 10 years earlier Stephen King’s Carrie got a hardcover release — this may in fact be the case. At any rate, Bright Lights, Big City sold a ton of books, got made into a movie, and was a big success: and was a book that skipped the hardcover. It wasn’t so much that Jay McInerney’s book “proved” the value of a paperback, or marked the day that Pulp “won” — it’s more that the mass-market paperback format was fully co-opted by mainstream publishers. Lower required investments (in author advances, and in printing) changed the calculus, and increased shelf space (in mall bookstores, and the nascent big boxes) meant there was demand.

A small-scale revolution.

##

The mistake so many are making when it comes to e-books and self-publishing is that they strongly feel they are shaking the very foundations of publishing, upsetting the established order of publishers and editors and gatekeepers and damnable rejection letters and bringing forth the Author’s Utopia where they and their works can Connect with Readers forever and ever amen.

But publishing is not a monolith. It may seem like there are only six publishers (soon to be five) but really: the publishers haven’t been the same since the big media consolidation of the 1990s. Smaller imprints subsumed into the morass continued to produce great books, but also largely only managed to do so, so long as they were able to fly under the corporate radar. I personally love “publishers” like Baen, Del Rey, Orbit, and Tor, but even more-so than most readers (since I am a bookseller) I know who actually ‘owns’ that business.

It can be hard to make a movie, too. This isn’t the non-sequitur that it seems:

A major summer-tentpole blockbuster movie requires the input of dozens of creatives, the technical expertise of hundreds of professionals, hundreds of millions of dollars, a lot of computing power and many hours of work in post production, and (frosting on the cake): a wholescale marketing blitz including internet trailers, TV commercials, print ads, toys in fast-food kids’ meals, and the personal appearances of actors and directors on cable, late night, morning shows, and red carpet debuts.

And then there’s YouTube. “Meh, a movie is just a video, after all: what’s the hype?”

Even an “indie” movie, or one without special effects, requires a lot of work by multiple people in specialized roles and with specialized skills. A “Director” can write, act in, film, edit, and upload a “movie” to YouTube — taking care of all of the required roles both on and off camera — and the finished work can be amazing. I’m not saying genius doesn’t exist. But many YouTube videos struggle to match reality-TV standards of production, let alone cinema-ready-polish.

Since many of us watch untold hours of YouTube, we are of course familiar with a lot of this. It probably goes without saying, and would be obvious even if I didn’t rub your face in it.

With the YouTube model made painfully obvious to you and now firmly in mind: let us once again consider self-publishing.

Unlike video, which are major productions (and often referred to as ‘productions’ in the press), Books are often assumed to be the work of a single person. This ignores a lot of what goes into a print edition: typesetting, printing, distribution, sales. Even in the case of e-books, though, where the printing et al. is done by computers and internet servers — there is the research, editing and revision of the manuscript, book cover design, pre-publication marketing, post-publication marketing, and the ‘legacy’ to consider. The long-term marketing of a book after it’s a scant six months old and slips into “the backlist” can include writing more books to increase the length of the series or the profile of the author, getting reviewed (on online sales sites but also preferrably elsewhere), keeping your book “in front” of readers in a world where you honestly only get 90 days to “hit” on the market, and overcoming the “sophomore slump”: sure, you’ve got one book out there already, but if it didn’t set the world on fire there is an open question whether you’ll ever be able to sell another.

“But, but… self-publishing! ebooks! it’s different now!”

E-Books are not the panacea some hope, and if you press the point: we’re going to have to stop you. Push it too much and you’re just selling e-book-snake-oil to a whole class of gullible creators. Can we all respect and repeat the point:
E- does not fix all.

A broken system that extends lottery-ticket-style winnings to a few, while ignoring everyone else, is not suddenly fixed when we bypass the single-channel Big Game to offer smaller jackpots to multiple winners via the internet. The ease of YouTube did not suddenly usher in a cadre of web-only TV shows to compare with The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, Arrested Development, or The Wire.

I’m being intentionally harsh. I want to get you thinking about the system: It’s rigged, and it’s rigged against you — and as much as you think you’re participating in a Revolution, you’re still letting the Lottery Winners of Publishing skew your expectations. Amanda Hocking, J.A. Konrath, E.L. James, and John Locke are not your business model.

The model you want to emulate is not the major publishers, c. 1980-2000yesterday, but instead the pulps of the 1920s and 1930s:

We Need E-Pulp.

We need web-anthologies, the equivalent of the pulp magazines of yore, for the new short fiction that has no other outlet. We need editorial selection (and editorial input, and maybe even some editing) to make sense of the massive influx of new writing made possible by e-. We need e-magazines selling at 99¢ an issue, and selling in volume — enough volume to afford to pay authors again, by the word or otherwise.

We need whole new publishers like Harlequin, and new imprints like the sci-fi imprints of the 60s, 70s, and 80s — e- is the New Pulp, and we’ll need a new escalator. Aside from the content, the other amazing thing about the pulps was that this-little-publishing-sideline-industry served as an incubator where new story ideas were tested and new authors were tempered. Amazon wants to own the new system, but the pulps of the 20s and 30s were not an outreach program conducted by the Hearst Corporation. Dozens (if not hundreds) (if not thousands) of back-room and back-alley outfits were publishing rags: over the years, hundreds of thousands of pages that had to be filled with content. Decades later, these were followed by dozens of mass-market paperback publishers looking to fill racks at newsstands and drugstores, and the reprints continued right up until the 70s — when original content by the likes of King and Parker et al. started to take over the mass market. The whole of the comic book industry was part of this movement, and thank you. Some imprints that are now Key components of major media conglomerates (Pocket, Bantam, Berkley, Dial, Dell) got started doing mass-market paperback reprints; Random House and Penguin (two of the largest publishers and after the impending merger about to account for 45-50% of ALL publishing) both got their start in the 30s doing cheap paperbacks. No, really.

##

What does this mean for authors?
Congrats. With e-books, You’ve rediscovered an 1880s publishing model: Serial publishing [novels in installments, that sell for a few bucks per] and If Amazon Really Is That Amazing, I guess you’re done.

Oh? Not satisfied? You want distribution into bookstores? You have aspirations and would like to, just maybe, work with an agent or editor to make your books more enticing, more saleable? Gee, I wish we had thought to build up some sort of system for that before Amazon introduced their Kindle Direct program.

What does this mean for the publisher?
You’re already 5 years behind. You might be 50 years behind. #TheNewPulpIsTheOldPulp

What does this mean for the retailer?
We have to carry everything —and yet, we get no credit. If anything, we get blame for not keeping up with the ‘trends’ when no one else was keeping up (and when it was pure speculation and not even an actual product not more than 6 months ago: and we get crap if we want to downscale because damn who could actually keep up with it all) —and still, still get no credit for what we actually do.

##

I didn’t ask to become the Book World’s Resident Internet Historian, but damn me if I’m the only one who remembers who we are and where we came from, and can draw the requisite parallels.

In the 20s and 30s, Book Publishing (as an industry) was hardly ossified: new technology and new outlets meant publishing was still (still!) in it’s infancy. While we today think of this period as staid, personality-driven, provincial, and perhaps a bit quaint: I’d say that impression formed based on what we were assigned to read in high school and did not (and does not) reflect the reality. These decades were exceptionally dynamic, both in terms of content and in the business models being developed. Powerhouses Penguin [1935] and Random House [1927] both date back to this period; they are the current #1 and #2 publishers and are merging – fulfilling a destiny that began in the 70s, when the Media Giants were first assembled from their robot-lion-parts, and the 80s, when the monolithic retail chains that enabled even greater consolidation appeared on the American landscape.

Books and Publishing have undergone massive change – and changes have taken place every decade since the 30s. While we [I] obsess over Amazon now, the retail landscape has been changing for over a century, and has changed drastically for nearly every segment — books included. Where we once had the main-street or city-square retail outlet – over the past century we’ve gone from main street to mall to mall-adjecent to ‘lifestyle center’ and back to urban-walkable-main-street again. The green grocer, baker, butcher, and pharmacist are now all just aisles in the Super Market – dry goods, sundries, and even USB flash drives (these days) included. Between 1913 and 2013, physical retail is damn near unrecognizable.

And Over The Whole Course Of The 20th Century, 100+ Years of Physical Retail, there has always been the other path — what was once fulfilled by the Sears & Roebuck Catalog and is now satisfied by Amazon. I’ve made the point mulitple times that Amazon is not Retail but Mail-Order but the distinction is lost on most. Amazon is an add-on and adjunct to stores-in-neighborhoods; Sears began the 20th century as a catalog but ended it as a nationwide retail chain that was also a real-estate developer and mall landlord. I don’t know what Amazon might want to ‘build’ nor where they will make their physical beach-head: but if they seriously want to challenge Wal-Mart at least one offensive front is going to have to be in realspace.

If you show up in 2013 and claim that a ‘new’ format and publishing ‘model’ changes everything – well, sure if you think so but maybe you should do your reading first.

I’d say the primary change is in payment models, and engagement: one can engage readers directly (over internet platforms) (not all of which are under your direct control; you rely on the forebearance of Amazon, Facebook, and many others) (so it’s not really direct now, is it?) (and not exactly new, in as much as we’ve been sharing off-line for millenia) — but damn if things like Amazon and Paypal don’t make it easier to collect.

In the past, as an author: you had to hustle. Selling short stories, shopping manuscripts, working the magazine circuit for whatever payday you could manage while holding out for the larger payoff a novel might provide. Constantly writing, constantly submitting, constantly waiting.

Now, with the internet, and e-books: it’s all easier. Upload everything.

And then — Hustle: find readers, engage them, get them to read your stuff online, maybe they even go so far as to download a file, or buy [Buy!] your ebook. Constantly working your own blogs to get the work out, writing guest-articles on other blogs to increase your profile, monitoring traffic and hit logs — joining Tumblr, Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter and working those — Sharing, blurbing, networking, waiting — Wait. Is this any easier? Some things are easier, sure: there’s an online bookstore you can direct readers to, as opposed to hoping they have a physical bookstore in their neighborhood, but that is literally the last step in a thousand-step journey and none of the rest of it is any easier, folks.

The Beauty And Lasting Value of Pulp is two-fold:

First: it’s [it was] a ready paycheck for authors and artists (those covers didn’t paint themselves) and the pulp magazines were a commodity at the time. Someone bought the rags.

Second: it’s [it is] an archive and a vehicle by which new fans find the work. Fritz Leiber and Doc Smith are two of my favourite authors and not only did I never read them when they were anthologized, active authors — hell, I missed the first generations of reprints and only knew them by reputation for years until the second round of reprints. These weren’t even necessarily “archival” versions: Leiber got a set of paperbacks from White Wolf Publishing, Doc Smith’s Lensman books got a re-release from Old Earth Books in the late 1990s.

##

The “real” costs of self publishing are all opportunity costs. More:

http://janefriedman.com/2013/05/20/infographic-5-key-book-publishing-paths/
http://www.pbs.org/mediashift/2013/05/the-real-costs-of-self-publishing-book
http://www.booksandsuch.biz/blog/the-self-editing-myth/
http://writerunboxed.com/2013/05/15/six-core-issues-facing-writers-today/
http://livinginthemaniototo.blogspot.com/2013/05/on-self-publishing-and-perils-thereof.html
http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2013/publicity-for-ebooks/?utm_source=feedly
http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2013/build-digital-relationships-with-consumers/?utm_source=feedly
http://www.publiclibraries.com/blog/why-are-ebooks-so-expensive/
http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2013/bowker-launches-selfpublishedauthor-com/?utm_source=feedly
http://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/isbn-advice-for-self-published-authors_b70730?utm_source=feedly
http://inkwelleditorial.com/how-amazons-algorithm-can-help-you-sell-more-ebooks-online
http://projectteambeta.com/publishing-world-deciding-to-self-publish-by-sarah-wyndes/

Over time, a google search of “The New Pulp” will also be worthwhile: and here it is: https://www.google.com/search?q=the+new+pulp



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Yes, all the links are broken.

On June 1, 2015 (after 6 years and 11 months) I needed to relaunch/restart this blog, or at least rekindle my interest in maintaining and updating it.

Rather than delete and discard the whole thing, I instead moved the blog -- database, cms, files, archives, and all -- to this subdomain. When you encounter broken links (and you will encounter broken links) just change the URL in the address bar from www.rocketbomber.com to archive.rocketbomber.com.

I know this is inconvenient, and for that I apologise. In addition to breaking tens of thousands of links, this also adversely affects the blog visibility on search engines -- but that, I'm willing to live with. Between the Wayback Machine at Archive.org and my own half-hearted preservation efforts (which you are currently reading) I feel nothing has been lost, though you may have to dig a bit harder for it.

As always, thank you for reading. Writing version 1.0 of Rocket Bomber was a blast. For those that would like to follow me on the 2.0 - I'll see you back on the main site.

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