New Models

On Amazon stores and publishers accepting standardization; two unrelated commentaries

When the “Amazon-opening-400-stores” rumor landed a week ago, many people were gobsmacked. It took me a minute to get past that, which also required getting past my firm conviction when they opened the Seattle store last year that it was an information-gathering exercise, not the opening move of a bigger retail play.

But, when you think it through, it not only doesn’t seem crazy that Amazon would open stores, it seems like an obviously compelling move.

Other retailers that started strictly online have opened retail locations, most notably the eyeglasses shop Warby Parker. (This New Yorker story mentions that. It also has an interesting disclaimer at the end because “Amazon Studios is producing a New Yorker series in partnership with Condé Nast Entertainment”. Wow.)

“Omni-channel”, which is really a new-fangled fancy term for selling both online and through a brick store, is the buzzword du jour of retailing. Actually, the online piece of that is the harder part and Amazon already had that licked.

Barnes & Noble “beat” Borders largely because they had a network of distribution centers that made stocking their retail locations extremely efficient. Amazon’s network of distribution centers is complicated because it isn’t just books, but they have many times the number of points of inventory storage as B&N. In fact, they have many times the number of storage points as B&N and Ingram and Baker & Taylor combined!

Amazon has tons of information that nobody else does that would inform their stocking decisions if they harnessed it. They know where searches are coming from for particular book titles or for generic needs, both geographically and psychographically. And they probably can detect early lifts for particular books faster than anybody else, simply because they have more data.

It is possible that if B&N and the indies had responded differently to Amazon Publishing, agreeing to stock the books rather than boycotting them, this could have played out differently. (No stronger argument could be made for the efficacy of that strategy than this post arguing that stores should stock Amazon titles to punish them because the returns would make them unprofitable! You can’t beat logic like that.) If the stores had stocked their titles, Amazon might have chosen to use their distribution center advantage to start wholesaling, rather than to support their own retail locations (as they appear to be doing).

But the determination of the brick retailers to boycott Amazon was spelled out loudly and clearly. So opening Amazon retail locations — as it increasingly appears they have every intention to do — has two strategic payoffs for them. One is that it gives them access to at least some brick-and-mortar retail locations for their publishing output, which otherwise they can only sell online. And the other is that it capitalizes on their distribution centers, delivering additional sales and margin for investments already made.

In a recent post, I suggested one specific way Amazon could get very disruptive if they had more than a handful of stores. There’s another. They are a tech company that likes to have computers make decisions that in other companies and in other times have been made by humans. I suspect they’ll figure out pretty fast that they will want to have some sort of vendor-managed inventory system to streamline and optimize the stocking decisions for what will almost certainly be a growing network of retail locations. (The part of a trade book person’s DNA that is most out-of-step with the digital age is that we like to make decisions case-by-case, rather than living with decisions made by rules we create. That’s the key to the second half of this post.)

Sophisticated but automated stocking and restocking decisions are not part of the toolkit at B&N or of any other retailer or wholesaler we know. Could that be the next battleground that Amazon retail stores create? That would certainly be disruptive, but at least in this corner of the world it would not be a surprise.


One mantra of the book publishing world is “every book is different”. We sometimes refer to that fact as reflecting the “granularity” of the book business compared to other kinds of consumer goods businesses or other media. Even if you think in terms of categories, there are just more of them in publishing than there are for other products or media.

Perhaps, then, it isn’t surprising that publishers are often inclined to encourage that uniqueness beyond where it is required. And, frankly, it is only required for editorial development and for targeting the marketing. The objective at every place in the value chain in between should be to standardize and, as much as possible, to treat many different books the same. That’s not a creative imperative; it is a commercial imperative.

My father first experienced the tension that this insight can create at Doubleday in the 1950s when he persuaded the company to standardize the trim sizes of their books for maximum printing efficiency. That didn’t require radical changes. It simply meant that books would be an eighth- or quarter-inch longer or shorter, wider or narrower. These were differences that were really not perceptible to most people, yet it was a real internal corporate battle to wrest control from designers who believed “every book is different” and that this mystery (or cookbook) had to be published as a 6 by 9 inch book while that one had to be 6-1/2 inches by 9.

In fact, the trivial differences in trim size were not important at all to the books’ chances of success. There were other decisions — the specific paper or type face among them — that also had no discernible commercial impact on each individual book but were, nonetheless, intentionally made book-by-book as though they did. In many houses, and (admittedly I’m saying this without any supporting data) probably more in smaller houses than larger ones, they still are. And that’s true even though whether the paper is 55 pound or 60 pound or the type face is Times Roman or Baskerville can’t be shown to have any impact at all on a book’s sales.

Now the University of North Carolina Press has been funded by the Mellon Foundation to put Dad’s theory to use in the university press and academic publishing world. They’ve created a service offering through their Longleaf distribution platform that takes the design, pre-press, production, and distribution burden off the hands of university press and academic publishers so they can focus on what makes them distinctive: the books they choose to publish and the skill with which they edit them.

This fits an industry reality I identified a couple of years ago that I called “unbundling”.

On one hand, UNC Press Director John Sherer reports real success, expecting to grow that part of their business by 50 percent in the coming year. But he also reports resistance by some presses who believe that making these design and production decisions adds so significantly to the “quality” of their output that they’re comfortable losing money doing it.

My own hunch is that many directors just don’t have the heart (or courage) to get rid of staff that, with all the best intentions and capabilities but without the advantages of technology and scale, provide them with no better than average quality at a much higher cost than they need to spend. This was a battle for Leonard Shatzkin when he fought it at Doubleday in the early 1950s and apparently it is still being fought hard six decades later.


News this week that demonstrates how timely Digital Book World programming can be…and a thought about Amazon bookstores

There are some days that the news I see just makes me feel so good about the programming we’re doing for this year’s Digital Book World. One of those days was earlier this week when the news pointed directly to three items on our program.

As I wrote in the last post, we have an entire unit on “company transformation”, headlined by John Ingram of Ingram Content Group and Mary Ann Naples of Rodale presenting on the main stage. The six other companies are in three pairs for break-out sessions, structured specifically to allow questions from the audience. One pairing is Dominique Raccah of Sourcebooks and Marcus Leaver of Quarto. Both of those companies made real news yesterday that is relevant to their transformation.

Quarto just announced the acquisition of Harvard Common Press. In the announcement, Quarto’s US president and CEO Ken Fund noted that the acquisition delivered Quarto 25,000 recipes. Why would they be mentioning that? Because the transforming Quarto uses its database of recipes both as part of its QuartoKnows information repository and to add power to its This Is Your Cookbook custom cookbook creation service. Quarto’s transformation has already created a situation where the components of books have value in addition to what is delivered by sales of the book in its published form.

Sourcebooks’s news also comes from its custom book creation capability, Put Me In the Story. The publisher just announced collaboration with Barnes & Noble by which those customized children’s books will be offered at 200 B&N stores. PMITS, which licenses big brand children’s books from across the industry for its unique customization engine, has already been a significant contributor to the company’s bottom line. This partnership, which will fuel discovery and awareness as well as sales, should supercharge the growth.

We also are excited to be featuring Fred Argir, the new Chief Digital Officer of Barnes & Noble, for a main-stage conversation, so this is timely news from that perspective as well.

And, finally, yesterday a story hit my radar that is a couple of weeks old but ties right in to a panel discussion we’ve been organizing for months on “Women at the Intersection of Publishing, Technology, and Finance”. The study it references, called “Elephant in the Valley”, contains some pretty shocking statistics about what the tech world is like for women. Our awareness that this was an important subject for discussion had been piqued by the controversy last Fall when the South by Southwest conference (SXSW) first announced a panel to discuss sexual harrassment in the gaming world, then cancelled it because of…harrassment of and physical threats against the prospective speakers! An immediate protest followed, including some big companies announcing they would boycott SXSW unless they corrected their error. That did it. They rescheduled the panel.

We have always been among those who believed that publishing is a female-friendly environment, but we know that women in publishing have to interact with the tech and finance worlds. So we put together a panel to discuss how the world looks to publishing women interacting with reputedly less-female-friendly industries. Chaired by Charlotte Abbott of Abbott Communications, the discussing group will be Dominique Raccah of Sourcebooks, Susan Ruszala of NetGalley, Joanna Stone Herman of investment bankers DeSilva + Phillips, and Katherine McCahill of Penguin Random House. “Elephant in the Valley” certainly provides plenty of grist for that panel’s mill.

It is always a challenge to put together a program that discusses the future of publishing and tech some months in advance. It is really bolstering to see pieces put into place many weeks ago of such current interest as we count down the last 30 days before the event.


And since I’m posting today, I have a word or two on this.

A Wall Street Journal story has propelled a rumor that Amazon will open 400 or more stores in malls into industry discussion. Nobody really knows whether it is true and, as I write this, Amazon has not commented for the record.

If it is true, then I certainly am guilty of one wrong prediction. When Amazon opened their store in Seattle last year I figured it to be a one-off and a learning experience for them. I have always thought they’d steer clear of bricks-and-mortar for many reasons. One of those reasons, which made more sense when they were much smaller than they are now, is that their stock valuation was based on the fact that they are in future-oriented businesses, not stuck with the pre-internet limitations and cost structures of physical stores.

But, on the other hand, the network of distribution centers they have built could also be a great asset for a retail network. The WSJ story has spawned a subsequent explanation, or rumor, that they’re planning lots of stores, not just bookstores.

You don’t have to think too hard to come up with disruptive things Amazon could do if they made this move. Heres one example. They have a print-on-demand capability. They try hard to get publishers to give them files for that so that they don’t have to rely on publisher supply from press runs. Publishers are highly resistant to that idea, which is understandable. They figure that if Amazon can print their own, they won’t buy from the press run. That reduces the runs and makes all their other business less efficient, as well as probably costing them margin on their Amazon sales.

But think about the implications of POD if Amazon has stores. POD books have never been intended for bookstore shelves. They are in a repository to be manufactured “on demand”. They are often non-returnable because publishers don’t want to pay the (higher) POD unit costs and face returns as well.

But what if Amazon said “make your books available for our POD and we are more likely to put them on our shelves”? Why would they do that? Because the “cost” of that inventory would be a lot less than the wholesale price; it would be their print cost.

That would be a truly disruptive rock if they threw it into the publishing ecosystem pool. It isn’t a reason for them to open up stores, but it would surely be a benefit they could capitalize on if they did. With their infrastructure and resources, Amazon almost certainly could open “profitable” retail stores that would put pressure on other retailers and their suppliers. Whether they’ll see that as an opportunity worth pursuing is what we’re going to find out.

There’s an early-bird pricing deadline for Digital Book World coming up at the end of the day Monday, February 8. For the best discount, use the Publishers Lunch code: LUNCH. The 7th DBW program looks at the Four Horsemen (Amazon, Apple, Facebook, and Google), company transformation, and modern marketing in great depth. And we’re really proud of our Mostly Marketing Masterclasses, running alongside our Publishers Launch Kids conference on Monday, March 7, the day before the “official” DBW. Check out the whole program on the DBW website.


Transformation of companies and the book industry itself are not just 21st century phenomena

Company transformation is a major theme at this year’s Digital Book World conference. By “transformation” we mean substantial changes in a company’s business model or core competencies or revenue streams. We found eight worthy companies to speak on this subject. Six of them — Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Ingram, Quarto, Rodale, Sourcebooks, and Wiley — are long-established players in the book business that have changed considerably in some fundamental ways compared to what they were and did ten years ago. Two of them — NetGalley and Diversion Books — started relatively recently to bring digital innovation to the publishing business and have moved considerably beyond their original goals and business models.

What got us started on this whole line of thinking was an article in the Nashville Tennessean last summer about Ingram. It documented what has been a pretty massive transformation over the past two decades from a company that was a traditional book wholesaler to one that has a big technology component providing a variety of services to the global publishing industry.

As Chairman and CEO John Ingram will discuss in detail with me on the stage at DBW, the changes we see today at Ingram really date from the creation of Lightning Print in 1997. The idea of “print on demand” — manufacturing a single copy of a book to order — became extraordinarily powerful when it was incorporated into the supply chain through the global supplier with the biggest network of bookstores and libraries. Ingram could put the book they manufactured this afternoon on an even footing with those titles for which they stocked inventory from publishers. At first this was just for paperbacks with pretty strict limitations on trim size and bulk. As time went by, Lightning improved the technology to deliver much higher quality, color, and hardcovers.

The ebook revolution dawned at about the same time as Lightning began. It didn’t take long for the repository of digital files Ingram held to become an even more valuable asset. It is now called CoreSource, and it drives both POD and ebook distribution.

But, in fact, Ingram had transformed, and transformed the industry, once before. That happened in the 1970s, right about the time I started working full-time in the trade book business. And it is a story that everybody trying to understand today’s transformation would appreciate and learn from.

I had forgotten until I searched that I had written about this before, nearly seven years ago when this blog was brand spanking new. Here’s an edited version of the story as I told it then.


Before the early 1970s, wholesalers to the trade were local and carried a relatively small number of titles. Their main job was to provide back-up stock of bestsellers very quickly. Most bookstores went directly to the publishers for just about everything else. Baker & Taylor was national, but focused on the library market. And Ingram (which was Tennessee Book Company until the Ingram family bought them) was a small and pretty insignificant player. Harry Hoffman was their president.

Most of those local wholesalers to the trade actually leaned on other business for most of their volume: school supply, library supply, or mass-market books and magazines. They looked to the trade book business for multiple copy sales of a handful of titles that were hot.

The wholesalers’ challenge was that they couldn’t carry everything, and for anything except the top titles, there was no assurance of any demand.

And that created the retailers’ challenge. Most of what they ordered from a wholesaler wouldn’t get delivered. The “fill rate” (percentage of what’s ordered that is delivered) was terrible. On average, it was well below 50%.

The flip side of this was bad for the wholesalers. Most of the orders they got from stores couldn’t be filled, but still required some level of processing and communication to tell their customers what they wouldn’t get. So, cumulatively, they spent a lot of money on the orders they couldn’t make a nickel on.

And here was everybody’s shared challenge: all of this took a lot of time and effort that was unproductive and didn’t get books back on the shelves.

One day in about 1972, a former colleague of Hoffman’s from his tenure at Bell & Howell stopped by to visit and showed the Ingram team a new gadget called a microfiche reader. The reader enabled one to see what was on a piece of film that was about 3 inches by 5 inches and was literally packed with information. What somebody saw in that meeting (and Michael Zibart, a longtime friend of ours who did the buying at Ingram then and is now owner and publisher of BookPage, thinks it was Hoffman himself) was that Ingram could put the inventory count for every book it stocked on a single microfiche. So if somehow the stores could have a reader, they could get the inventory of Ingram’s books mailed to them each week.

(Yes: mailed! Isn’t it amazing how klunky life was before email and the web?)

If stores could see what books were actually there, they’d stop ordering books Ingram didn’t have. And they’d know, with reasonable certainty, what they were going to get when they placed an order. And the very good news for Ingram was that they would no longer have to process orders they couldn’t fill.

The challenge for Ingram was to get the microfiche readers Bell & Howell made, which were not inexpensive, into the stores’ hands. They decided to do that by renting them, asking the stores to pay a monthly fee (memory says it was $10 a month) to have them. So they went to the ABA Convention (American Booksellers Association, which sold the convention to Reed Exhibitions in the 1990s and which Reed turned into BEA) in Los Angeles in 1973 to peddle the readers. They had no idea what reaction they’d get.

It turned out to be overwhelmingly positive. The stores, many of which didn’t yet know Ingram, were enthusiastic about the concept and willing to pay to rent the reader. Ingram was able to charge the publishers for the cost of creating the microfiche (I think that started at $1 per month per title listed). So they created self-liquidating efficiencies which immediately supercharged their fill rate (into the 90s), boosted their volume and customer base, and eliminated lots of waste: the money they spent processing orders they couldn’t fill. As a bonus, Ingram was able to put their unique title number, which they needed to fill an order, on the microfiche so the stores did the “coding” for them, writing those numbers on orders that they sent in by mail. (We didn’t even have faxes yet.) More costs eliminated.

Within a year or two, Ingram was the first really powerful national trade wholesaler. Baker & Taylor, national but much more library-focused, copied the microfiche innovation later in the 1970s. Stores were able to stock backlist much more efficiently because they could single-source multiple publishers and order with much greater frequency.

This was really a transformation story before we thought about companies changing in this way. But it wasn’t just a company that changed that time, it was the whole industry. And it probably was changed more by the microfiche and the growth of effective wholesaling than by any other single thing that happened after that until…Lightning Print.

Two worthy extensions of this piece. John Ingram did a nice little interview with Daniel Berkowitz at the Digital Book World blog.

And my good friend Joe Esposito published a piece about a year ago citing the Ingram microfiche innovation for the significant milestone that it was. Esposito made the further point that what Ingram did for the industry was subsequently what Jeff Bezos did with Amazon for the consumer. That is, of course, particularly ironic, since it was Ingram’s inventory and rapid fulfillment capabilities that Bezos used to get Amazon started.


Book publishing lives in an environment shaped by larger forces and always has

(Note to my readers. This longer-than-usual post is really two. The first half is a recital of what I believe is very relevant history. The second half is about how things are now. Although I am personally fascinated by the historical context, if you get bored with the history, the bolded text below marks the spot you can skip down to to get to “today”.)

Book publishing has always adapted to an environment shaped by larger forces. That hasn’t changed.

Andrew Carnegie provided a big lift early in the 20th century when he financed a lot of libraries, taking books and reading into every corner of the country. In the 1930s, publishers led by Putnam and Simon & Schuster made “returns” a part of the commercial equation between publishers and bookstores because the depression was making stores especially wary of taking on inventory.

After World War II, the mass-market paperback revolution was made possible by a network of magazine wholesalers (also called “IDs”, or “independent distributors”) who could push product out to hundreds of thousands of points of purchase.

In the 1960s, shopping center development boomed. The mall developers wanted “bankable” entities to sign up for their stores before the projects were built. Banks providing mortgage cash liked national brand names for that purpose better than unknown local entrepreneurs. That fact spawned the mall chains, Waldenbooks and B. Dalton, which each grew into the hundreds of stores by the 1970s. All those new stores opening created pipelines for publishers to fill that made the book business grow even faster.

Then in the late 1980s, Wall Street believed the destination superstore was a good bet and happily financed Borders (which bought Walden) and Barnes & Noble (which bought Dalton) to build out the 100,000+-title store model. This again created huge pipelines for publishers to fill and, unlike the situation when 25,000-title mall stores were proliferating, the orders to fill them went deep into publishers’ backlists.

All of this 20th century growth fit a similar model for publishers, leaning on booksellers to present their books to the public and to manage the inventory in an ever-expanding number of bookshops. So publishers continued to focus on business-to-business marketing, honing their expertise at positioning their titles for reviewers, bookstore buyers, and library collection developers but only occasionally addressing the public, or any segment of any book’s consumer audience, directly. And they continued to focus their sales efforts on persuading stores to make commitments to their books. The ability to get “buys” from the booksellers really drove marketing and revenue.

Then in 1995, Amazon arrived and changed the game in many ways. And we can see in retrospect that the birth of Amazon heralded an even bigger change in the commercial context for publishers. Amazon’s arrival began an era which is now in full flower, where the environment for book publishers is largely influenced by major tech companies for which publishing is a hardly-noticed activity even though their impact on the world of publishing is profound. Although there are certainly others who figure in, the environment today for marketing and delivering books is shaped by what Professor Scott Galloway of NYU Stern School of Business calls “The Four Horsemen”: Amazon, Apple, Facebook, and Google.

Amazon, like booksellers before them, handled the direct relationship with consumers and evolved, after an early period of depending on Ingram for their stock, to staging the inventory to serve them. It pretty quickly became apparent that they were much more disruptive than prior innovators in many ways. Among them:

Amazon operated in an environment without geographical constraints; their sales weren’t constrained by local boundaries like the physical bookstores. They could effectively provide service to customers from anywhere. So even in the beginning, when they were taking such small share away from each of the existing market players that they hardly noticed it, Amazon was building a substantial customer base for itself.

Pretty early in the game, Amazon persuaded Wall Street that it was “different” and didn’t ultimately have to make its fortune selling books. Books were just the key to the first step: customer acquisition. The profits would come from subsequent steps: selling those customers other things (and — the more sophisticated part — selling the infrastructure it was creating at scale). Once the investment community was on board to finance that strategy, Amazon was liberated to price-compete in a way that, it is clear in retrospect, no book-centric retailer could keep up with.

The number of shipping points for Amazon, which have recently proliferated and is now in the dozens at least, grew slowly, so Amazon was inherently more “efficient” with its purchases than bookstores could possibly be. Each book shipped to them had a much bigger sales base than it would in a single store and therefore also had a much lower chance of being returned. At the same time, as they took sales away from brick-and-mortar stores, returns from that side of the business tended to go up, at first because the publishers’ sales forecasting was unconsciously working with a diminishing base, and then later because moving to fewer titles in stock became part of the solution to reduced sales and returns were part of how they got there.

The book-buying public adjusted very quickly to Amazon. For several decades leading to the 1990s, publishers and bookstores had learned that a massive in-store selection was a powerful magnet to draw customers. The choice of books has always been so granular that it is virtually impossible for any retailer to stock everything a customer might want. Jeff Bezos knew and understood that, and he had the vision to understand how an online retailer could benefit from the impossible challenge a brick-and-mortar bookstore faced.

Amazon used a Baker & Taylor database that hadn’t been “cleaned”, so it had a lot of out-of-print books in it. Amazon turned that into a benefit for their customers, because it gave Amazon a platform to tell a searcher that the book they wanted was no longer available if that were the case. (If you just don’t find your book when you search, you would be inclined to look again elsewhere. But if you find it and are told it is out of print, you would perhaps look for a substitute.) Combining that with rigorous “promise dates” telling customers when their books would arrive progressively lured, and then satisfied, more and more book buyers. The less likely the buyers thought it would be that they’d find a book in a store, the more likely it would be they’d just order it from Amazon. In a story we’ve told on this blog before, we learned on a consulting assignment with Barnes & Noble in the first couple of years of this century how dramatically the buying habits of academics had shifted away from store-shopping to buying from Amazon.

By the end of the first decade of this century, the future had arrived with a vengeance. Amazon dominated the rapidly-growing ebook business, driving the publishers into an embrace with Apple (one “Horseman” come to save them from another) that brought them into conflict with the Department of Justice. And then Borders, one of the two dominant national bookstore chains and proprietors of more than four hundred 100,000-title stores nationwide, shut down, taking a big double-digit percentage of the nation’s bookstore shelf space with them.

The collapse of Borders had an impact on the publishers’ ecosystem comparable to what the effect will be on sea levels when the Greenland or West Antarctica ice sheets break off: a sudden surge of change reflecting a long-term trend. As Hemingway wrote about the way things often happen: “gradually, then suddenly”.

And this brings us to the world we live in today. Like a frog in gradually heated water, many of us have lived through the change so we may think we’re more adjusted to it than we actually are.

Publishers now live in a world where more than half the sales for most of them — the exceptions are those who are heavily into illustrated books and children’s books — occur online through varying combinations of print and ebooks. Their two biggest accounts — Amazon for online sales and Barnes & Noble for stores — each reign supreme for their channel of the business. (And although Amazon has opened a store and Barnes & Noble has an online sales capability, they are likely to remain the leading player where they are now and much less important in the other channel.) Because they’re so important, they can be increasingly aggressive in how much margin they insist on as discount from the publishers’ price and various merchandising fees.

When bookstores were the distribution path for books, they were also the primary avenue for “discovery”. That was what the big store was about. People could browse it and find things they had no idea existed that they wanted to buy. But, as we all know, “discovery” now is largely an online thing, driven by some magical combination of “search engine optimization”, social media promotion and word-of-mouth, and online retailer merchandising.

So the model that has served publishers for a century, putting out books through a network of stores that both draw in the public and contextually position the books for them (in topical “sections” and some featured placements like windows or front tables), has been seriously eroded. What has replaced big parts of it are online purchases of books “discovered” through a variety of mostly online channels. And that’s where the Four Horsemen become so prominent.

Amazon and Apple are, along with Barnes & Noble, where most of publishers’ sales will take place. Each retailer does its own merchandising, of course. All of them will undoubtedly be increasing the variety and sophistication of its offerings, but will also have different rules and algorithms influencing how they respond to descriptive copy and metadata triggers the publishers will be providing. Understanding how this all this works at Amazon and Apple as well as publishers always did with Barnes & Noble and other brick-and-mortar retailers is a clear agenda item for all publishers. And they get it.

What some are still learning is “the fallacy of last click attribution”. (This is one of the more important nuggets of knowledge I’ve picked up in the past couple of years from my partner, Peter McCarthy, as we’ve been building our Logical Marketing business.) In a nutshell, that means that where somebody buys something is not necessarily where they made the buying decision. If you’re an Amazon Prime subscriber getting free shipping on your books, you go to Amazon to buy regardless of where you learned about the book. And that’s why all four horsemen are so important.

Although Google is also a retailer, a much less potent one than Amazon or Apple, Google’s importance is that it dominates search. And despite the penetration of apps on both the iOS and Android platforms (more everybody needs to understand about Apple and Google), search is still the primary way almost everybody looks for things. Google still has in the neighborhood of 60 to 70 percent of search activity (even though Microsoft’s Bing now powers AOL and Yahoo search). Many of the sales transacted on Amazon and Apple are made because of search results delivered by Google. According to the latest SimilarWeb numbers, approximately 25% of Amazon’s traffic originates as a Google search. One quarter. And Amazon is one of Google’s very largest advertisers.

Google also has an enormous impact on an author’s ability to be part of the merchandising process. Google Plus hasn’t turned out to be much of a social interaction platform, but an author’s profile there can have a big impact on how the author and his/her books rank for search. This has long been true but is not, even now, universally appreciated.

In short, Google Plus author pages are nearly as important as Amazon author pages, a fact totally independent of the traffic either of them gets.

Facebook is the only one of the Four Horsemen that doesn’t (for now, anyway) actually function as a retailer at all, but Facebook is increasingly important to book marketing. Something north of two billion people use Facebook, a billion of them every day. Nineteen percent of the world is on Facebook; forty percent of Internet users. More and more time is spent there by more and more people.

As anybody who uses it knows, Facebook makes it incredibly simple to share content or links. More and more authors and publishers are learning how to use Facebook as a marketing and advertising tool. Everybody’s there. Rule #1 of marketing: fish where the fish are.

So the transactions take place primarily at Amazon, often at Barnes & Noble (still) and Apple, and occasionally at Google. But the drivers to the transactions are Google and Facebook. (And others, of course, but none approaching the importance of those two.) How successfully publishers will sell books in the future will largely depend on how well they master the opportunities presented by Amazon, Apple, Facebook, and Google.

One of the big new opportunities, beyond the scope of this piece to cover in detail but very much part of the new operating environment, is “nearly effortless global” sales. All of the Four Horsemen reach every corner of the planet. The structural barrier there is that the responsible sales operators haven’t historically had to think about many different global sales opportunities.

Another is to make better synergistic use of author relationships. What authors do on Facebook and Google Plus (and a host of other social networks) needs to become part of the publisher’s overall picture of the book and its marketing. And the structural barrier there is that the editor is too often forced to be the conduit for this coordination, a task for which they are neither prepared nor supported.

Operating through and with these behemoth companies is a big challenge for our industry. David Young, who just retired from Hachette UK, shared an observation with me when he was CEO of Hachette US a few years ago. The CEO of a big publisher in the past could always get the CEO of his or her biggest accounts on the phone if necessary. That was no longer true eight years or so ago when he made the observation, talking about Amazon. (And talking about Amazon a few years before Hachette and Amazon had a very public dispute that hurt Hachette sales very badly.)

There are two legacy accounts for publishers that remain critical to their future: Barnes & Noble, the industry’s one omni-channel wholesaler, and Ingram, which began as a book wholesaler but which has morphed into a service provider helping publishers with all sorts of modern challenges, including global distribution, print-on-demand, and now, with the acquisition of, the ability to promote and sell through new technology Ingram and offer. Ingram, unlike any of the other players, is helping smaller publishers with tools to enable them to punch above their weight. That is likely to be a growth proposition in the years to come.

But B&N and Ingram, just like all the publishers, will have to understand the strategies and activities of the four big companies driving change and creating a new ecosystem for the book business. They’ll also have to do it without a direct line to their CEOs. But, then, not very many publishers were able to get Andrew Carnegie on the phone 100 years ago either.

Digital Book World 2016 has a lot of programming addressing the issues raised in this piece. Professor Scott Galloway will talk about the Four Horsemen. Professor Jon Taplin of USC will analyze how revenue has moved from content creators to tech companies and suggest some ways some if it might be clawed back. Rand Fishkin, founder, former CEO (and now Wizard) of Moz and perhaps the most knowledgeable person in the world about search, will offer the latest insights into how search is being affected by “local” and “mobile” and then have a session to take questions.

Virginia Heffernan, author of Magic & Loss will discuss the cultural and economic impacts of the digital age for content creators.  Antitrust attorney Jonathan Kanter  will look at the relationships among book publishers, major technology players, and consumers from a competitive and regulatory perspective

Roy Kaufman of Copyright Clearance Center will moderate a panel talking about changes in copyright law, something also driven by big players affecting the publishers’ commercial environment. And we have a slew of presentations about companies “transforming” — changing how they do business in fundamental ways while maintaining the revenues that sustain them. That will include a presentation from Ingram Chairman and CEO John Ingram. And Barnes & Noble’s new Chief Digital Officer, Fred Argir, will talk about how they are building out an “omni-channel” strategy and what they can offer publishers in the way of improved digital discovery.

And there will be panel discussions of both the issues we identified as publishing opportunities: global sales and marketing collaboration with authors.

DBW 2016 takes place in New York March 7-9, 2016.


Can crowd-sourced retailing give Amazon a run for its money?

Although it has always seemed sensible for publishers to sell their books (and then ebooks) directly to end users, it has never looked to me like that could be a very big business. In the online environment, your favorite “store” — the one you’re loyal to and perhaps even have an investment in patronizing (which is how I’d characterize Amazon PRIME) — is only a click away. So however you learn about a book (or anything else), it is very easy to switch over to your vendor of choice to make the purchase.

There is a concept called “the fallacy of last click attribution” that is important in digital marketing. You don’t want to assume that the place somebody bought something (the last click) was the place they decided to buy it (attribution). If you’re a marketer, you want to aim your messages where the decision gets made and you need to know if that wasn’t where the purchase was made. You learn quickly that the two are often not the same.

There are a variety of reasons why direct sales are hard for publishers. One is that their best retailer customers — Amazon and Barnes & Noble, of course, but many others as well — don’t like their turf encroached upon by their suppliers and they have power over their suppliers’ access to customers. They particularly don’t like it if suppliers compete on price.

But it isn’t just publishers who have trouble competing with the online book retailers and ebooks are just as hard as print. On the ebook side, many readers are comfortable with specific platforms — Kindle, Nook, Kobo — and are uncomfortable “side-loading” content into them. And when you get away from the owner of an ecosystem, the complications created by the perceived need for DRM — some ability to either lock up or identify the owner of content that might be “shared” beyond what its license (which is what a purchase of ebooks is) allows — makes things even more complicated.

Because it appears so superficially simple to transact with trusted customers, attempts to enable book and ebook sales by a wide variety of vendors are nearly as old as Amazon itself. In fact, Amazon began life in 1995 leaning almost entirely on Ingram to supply its product and began discounting in earnest when Ingram started to extend the same capability to other retailers through a division called I2S2 (Ingram Internet Support Services) in the late 1990s. The aggressive discounting by Amazon quickly and effectively scared off the terrestrial retailers who might have considered going into online sales.

When one company, a UK-based retailer called The Book Depository, organized itself to fulfill print books efficiently enough to be a potential competitor, Amazon bought them. Nobody else ever really came close. Borders didn’t try, initially turning over its online presence to Amazon. Barnes & Noble partnered with Bertelsmann in the 1990s to create Books Online, which has continued (to this day) as But they have not (to date) managed to achieve a synergistic interaction with the stores to give themselves a unique selling proposition. And the Amazon discounting strategy, designed to suck sales away from terrestrial retailers and partly supported by Amazon’s reach well beyond books, was never a comfortable fit for BN. As a result, Amazon has never been threatened as the online bookselling king.

Barnes & Noble dominates physical retail for books; Amazon owns online. One channel is shrinking; the other is growing.

Trying to do retail for print books without a substantial infrastructure is just about impossible, but ebooks are tempting because, at least superficially, those challenges appear to be much smaller. That may have been behind the attempt by three publishers — Penguin (before the Random House merger), Hachette, and Simon & Schuster — to launch Bookish a few years ago. By the time it opened, Bookish was touted as a “recommendation engine”, but its true purpose when it was started was to give its owning publishers a way to reach online consumers in case of an impasse with Amazon. They get points for predicting the impasse, which Hachette famously suffered from during ebook contract negotiations with Amazon in 2014. But the solution wasn’t a solution. Bookish never had the juice to build up a real customer base and probably never could have, regardless of how much its owners would have been willing to invest.

There are currently two noteworthy players in the market enabling any player with a web presence to have an ebookstore selling everybody’s titles. One is Zola Books, which started out two or three years ago promoting itself as a new kind of web bookstore. They were going to let anybody create their own curated collection of books and profit from their curation. And they were going to host unique content from brand name writers that wouldn’t be available anywhere else. It didn’t work, and now Zola, having acquired much of the defunct Bookish’s tech, is trying to be an enabler of online ebookstores for anybody who wants one.

That same idea is the proposition of Hummingbird, an initiative from American West Books, a California-based wholesaler that provides books to leading mass merchants. They have created technology to enable anybody with a web presence to sell ebooks. The company told us that their internal projections suggest that they can capture 3% of the US ebook market in 24 months from their imminent launch. They promise an impressive array of resellers, ranging from major big box retailers (many of which are their customers for books) to major publishers themselves.

There are others in the space, providing white label platforms and other direct sales solutions, including Bookshout, Enthrill, Bluefire, and Impelsys. And there are distributors, etc. who support their clients’ D2C efforts — Firebrand, Donnelly/LibreDigital, Demarque.

Then, yesterday (Tuesday) morning, Ingram announced that they have acquired, a technology firm based in San Francisco headed by Ron Martinez. The combination will probably motivate the owners of Zola and Hummingbird to rethink their strategies. It is motivating me to reconsider whether, indeed, a large number of Net points of purchase for books could change the nature of the marketplace.

Disclosure is appropriate here. Ingram has been a consulting client of ours for many years. In that role, I introduced them to Aerbook, the predecessor to, two or three years ago and I knew that Ingram had invested in it. But I didn’t know about the integration the two were working on until literally moments before they announced the merger on Tuesday. It is extremely powerful.

What Martinez and Ingram have built with a simple, elegant set of tools is the ability for anybody — you, me, a bookstore, a charity, a school, an author — to build its own branded and curated content store. You can “stock” it with any items you want from the millions of books and other content items Ingram offers. You can set any prices you want, working with a normal retail margin and paying “by the drink” for the services you need, namely management of the transaction and fulfillment. And while there is certainly “effort” involved in building your selection and merchandising, there are no up-front or recurring charges to discourage anybody from getting into the game.

One of our observations in the past couple of years has been that Amazon’s competitive set is limited because most of their ebook competitors don’t sell print books. It seemed to me that the one chance to restrain their growth — and every publisher and bookseller that is not Amazon would like to do that — was for Google to get serious about promoting and selling print as well as ebooks. But that won’t happen. Google is a digital company and they’re interested in doing all they can with digital media. They don’t want to deal with physical, even — as I suggested — doing it by having Ingram do the heavy lifting.

Whether any publishers or booksellers or other merchants or entities can build a big-and-profitable business selling books using the tool remains to be seen. But it would seem that many can build a small-and-not-unprofitable sideline to their current activities and it would be one that would underscore their knowledge, promote their brand, and provide real value to their site visitors and other stakeholders. Thousands of these businesses could be consequential; millions could be game-changing. How many will there be? That’s impossible for me to predict, but the proposition is totally scaleable, so the answer depends entirely on how enticing it is for various entities with web traffic and brands to have a bookstore.

And, depending on the uptake here, there will be some strategic conversations taking place around this at Amazon as well. When they have a handful of competitors selling print and ebooks, as they have, price-matching (or price-undercutting) can be an effective, and targeted, strategy. But how do you implement that when there are thousands of competitors, some of which are discounting any particular title and many of which are not? And does the customer care if they’re paying a couple bucks more to buy the book “directly” from their favorite author, particularly if the author offers a hand-signed thank-you note will be sent (separately, of course) to acknowledge every purchase?

How this will play out is something to watch over the next few years but there is at least the potential here for a real change in the game.

We already had John Ingram, Chairman and CEO of the Ingram Content Group slotted as a keynote speaker for Digital Book World 2016 to talk about one of our main themes: “transformation”. More than half of Ingram’s revenues come from businesses they weren’t in 10 years ago. We’ll see how things look as they start to roll out, but it would seem likely would be an appropriate add to the program as well.

If you haven’t signed up yet for DBW (which runs March 7-9), the Publishers Lunch code gets you the lowest price.


Books as brands and the opportunities to sell book-branded merchandise

There’s a lot in this post that anticipates conversations we will have at Digital Book World 2016, coming up March 7-9 at the New York Hilton. “Transformation” will be an important theme at that event and nothing says “transformation” more than revenue sources you didn’t used to have.

It was really 20 years ago that it first occurred to me that “content marketing” would, at least in part, replace “marketing content”. Or at least partly replace selling content. As the world progressed, so did my understanding of how this would play out, and I saw that publishing would increasingly be done by entities extending their brand or their audience reach. I called that the “atomization” of publishing and have written about it for a few years.

But the way it worked out, thanks to an Amazon far more powerful than I envisaged in the 1990s, is that publishers don’t actually sell their content direct to consumers very often. Their primary job — their primary responsibility to the authors they sign up — is to get the content sold by whatever means possible. Publishers have mostly learned that trying to take sales away from Amazon to make them directly costs far more in lost sales than it gains in even ostensibly improved margin. (And, in fact, the margin does not improve most of the time even if the share retained of the selling cost rises, because the cost of serving customers exceeds the cost of having Amazon do it for you.)

So an idea that briefly seemed right to me in the 1990s — that publishers would use their content as a springboard to market other things — never materialized. And what’s happened is mostly the other way around: people who sell other things are creating content, sometimes competing with publishers, to bring in customers for their primary products.

The world that I envisioned back then has played out somewhat in vertical publishing. F+W has been building on its book and magazine audiences to sell other things, including live events, for nearly a decade. Rodale will be launching online courses this month. They also do “summits”, which are several days long, built around the authority of a book and author, and which are free events out of which products are created from the content that attendees can purchase.

The general trade publishers are trying some of this too. Macmillan has sold mugs and t-shirts through and other sites it controls that did “fairly well, but nothing earthshattering”.

HarperCollins has been a bit more aggressive. A scale email channel – their Bookperk bargain newsletter (which was just grown by acquisition last week) – allows them to effectively promote all sorts of things, from e-book bargains to discounts on print front list to event tickets to just fun things, like a chance to win Notorious RBG temporary tattoos. Combining some of that, they have done two virtual pop-up stores – one for Father’s Day and one last Christmas – where they sold signed editions and non-books like Roxane Gay “Bad Feminist” t-shirts and Agatha Christie tote bags.

But the publishers mostly have the limitation we pointed out at the top that cramps their ability to sell non-book items: they don’t actually sell very many books or ebooks themselves either. So their content marketing efforts are not routinely building toward a transactional relationship with the audiences they touch. That means that “upsells” are not about “putting another item in the shopping cart”. They’re about getting a customer to use a shopping cart with them for perhaps the first time. That’s much harder.

The full potential to sell “other stuff” is now being demonstrated through the “custom book” play from Sourcebooks called “Put Me in the Story”. There are other personalized books — like those offered by Quarto (This Is Your Cookbook), Chronicle (“I See Me” children’s books, which are custom books based on Chronicle titles), or the global sensation for kids called “Lost My Name”. But PMITS is different because it works with highly-established children’s book brands and delivers personalized versions of them. So PMITS sees itself from the git-go as a brand enhancement and extension, making a new revenue stream available for the publishers (and authors and illustrators) of the books they build on.

Like the other personalized book creators, PMITS does have a shopping cart; they do have a transactional relationship with their customers.

So when they look at non-book gift products, the book again is central, as it is for their core offer. Like with the book, there’s a royalty payment tied for non-book product that’s directly derived from books and it’s another whole new revenue stream for many authors and illustrators. From Sourcebooks’ perspective, this is what they were trying to do from the beginning. The personalized books add a revenue stream, and now personalized gifts add another revenue stream. (Chronicle also sells chotchkes like stuffed animals that “go with the books” but they are not evidently deeply into doing branded chotchkes, creating extra value for commodity items around the book’s fame.)

Put Me in the Story uses the book’s brand as the key asset distinguishing their non-book products to create companion gifts.

For example, they used the artwork from their own bestselling “I Love You So” Marianne Richmond book to create personalized gifts including puzzles, wall art and placemats. They’re now beginning to expand their offerings to include many other product types including nightlights, backpacks and ornaments (that last actually in beta just in the last two weeks). Last month, they had a bestseller with a Halloween Scare book and its corresponding Trick or Treat bag.

Selling stuff beyond the books themselves has been on the PMITS road map all along and was launched in a “beta” mode a year ago for holiday season 2014. They’re now working to scale it with new content partners and merchandise so they can create some unique gift bundles with books as the foundation.

The customization capability inherent in PMITS is not actually the most important piece that enables them to sell non-book chotchkes. The requirements are the direct customer relationship with the reader and the licensing relationship with the owner of the book. Sourcebooks has created both with Put Me In the Story. Any publisher with a strong ecommerce business would have the pieces in hand for their own books (as Chronicle is now demonstrating). One could see the value and the opportunity here for a big book retailer, but the effort required to create the licensing relationships necessary would be substantial. (Of course, a big book retailer that owned its own content would have an advantage here. And we can think of one…)

An important principle is being established here. A book creates a brand. There are many things people want — beer mugs and scarves and t-shirts among them — that have greater consumer value if they are branded. Put Me In the Story has made that abundantly clear.

Note that Digital Book World, the biggest global discussion of how digital is changing the publishing business, has moved from the January slot it occupied for its first six years to March 7-9, 2016 at the New York Hilton. In addition to the “transformation” theme, this year we have a strong focus on the tech companies that are affecting publishing’s world. How do Amazon, Apple, Facebook, and Google strategies and initiatives affect publishers and authors? Our program is loaded with experts on that. 

Digital change may have seemed to slow down, but Digital Book World is still covering aspects of it that none of us know well enough yet. You’ll want to be there. The first Early Bird deadline expires at the end of the day on Monday, November 9. To get your best price, sign up through Publishers Marketplace by then.


It is being proven that smaller bookstores can work commercially

Sometimes it takes a decade or more for an insight to be validated, but it is always nice when it happens.

Around the turn of the century, I was developing a business called “Supply Chain Tracker”, which had a nice client base for a few years. What we did was take the data feeds — Excel spreadsheets — provided by publishers’ major accounts and find the nuggets of insight within them that enabled better inventory decisions.

This followed the logic of one of Shatzkin’s Laws, which in this case is “every spreadsheet is one calculation short of useful”. We added some calculations to make meaningful metrics out of raw data. For B&N’s spreadsheets reporting inventory and sales activity to publishers, two of these were calculating the “percentage of store inventory sold” from the “on hand” and “sales this week” columns and “the percentage of total stock in the warehouse” derived from “on-hand in the stores” and “on-hand in the warehouse”.

My first client for this work was Sterling in the final year that they were independently owned before they were bought by B&N, which still owns them. When we showed our first prototype of a Supply Chain Tracker report to Sterling, we sorted by “the percentage of total stock in the warehouse” and two books popped to the top: 5000 copies with 100 percent in the warehouse! When Sterling’s then-Sales VP (later CEO) Charles Nurnberg saw that he said, “those books have been there since October!” This analysis was taking place the following February.

It turns out that B&N at the time had no systematic check of this metric in their workflow. If a B&N buyer bought five thousand copies and didn’t order a “store distribution”, the books would go into the warehouse and just sit there. It was a hole in their system. And since publishers tended to eyeball the spreadsheets in order of “sales”, looking for books that needed to be replenished, they just never caught this.

When Sterling showed the problem to the responsible execs at B&N, it bolstered the view of one of them that having the publishers intelligently reviewing inventory was useful support for the chain’s buying activity. They became supporters of our Supply Chain Tracker reporting (which we then extended to other accounts: Borders, Books-A-Million, Amazon, Ingram, and Baker & Taylor). But Barnes & Noble was everybody’s biggest account at the time and they offered the most robust reporting, so they were the primary focus of our work.

Let’s recall that the early years of this century were still the years of superstore expansion. B&N and Borders were proudly featuring stores that had 120,000 titles or more. It was precisely because they stocked so many titles and that the great majority of them turned very slowly that they wanted the additional publisher help in inventory tracking, particularly further down the sales ranks. And no publishers seemed more logical candidates for that help than university presses. B&N wanted to stock them more heavily, but their books were predominantly in the slow-turning majority. Distinguishing the books that would sell a copy or two in a store versus the ones that wouldn’t demanded the deep title knowledge of the publisher combined with the insight of well-structured reporting. Our work seemed to fit, so B&N subsidized our relatively expensive engagements providing our reports and tutorials on how to use them to university presses.

What we found as we started analyzing, though, was disappointing and initially surprising to all of us. But, as we thought about it, it was intuitively logical.

The university press titles had effectively stopped selling, even in B&N stores that were near university campuses. Why? Those sales had all moved to Amazon, which, at the time, was barely more than five years old. This first struck us all as disappointing and surprising. But, then, think about it…

The university professor would hear about a book. S/he’d go down to the local bookshop — could be a B&N or another store, didn’t matter — and look for the book. It would almost always not be there. So s/he’d “special order” it and wait for it. It didn’t take long for this to become an expectation, so ordering online became a very sensible default behavior. By 2002 and 2003, when we were doing this work, the battle to sell the obscure book to an audience that knew it was there and wanted it through a brick-and-mortar store was already lost. When you thought about this, it was intuitive, even though none of us anticipated it when we started doing the work.

Cambridge University Press at the time had a sales representative (since deceased) named Steve Clark. He was one of my most engaged B&N-subsidized clients. As we were doing this work and analysis, Clark told me that Amazon was already a bigger account for CUP than all other US retail outlets combined! That was a “wow”. But it underscored the degree to which Amazon had captured market share from the stores on hard-to-find books.

B&N still operated smaller stores that had been in the B. Dalton chain and Borders had a similar chain called Waldenbooks. While B&N and Borders were building out the 100,000-plus title stores, their mostly-mall chains were 20,000 and 30,000 title stores. They were in the process of shutting them down as leases expired.

With full knowledge of the strategy that governed their activity in those days, I said to my principal contact at B&N, “you guys should be figuring out how to use your infrastructure to make the twenty-thousand title store work”. He said to me, “Mike, we’re thinking about the million title store!” In other words, there was no appetite to take on board what we had all just learned to make a big change to the overall strategy. They had fully absorbed and couldn’t rapidly unlearn the lesson first discovered by my father, Leonard Shatzkin, when he was running Brentano’s in the 1960s: a big selection of books is a huge magnet for customers.

Unfortunately, Amazon had already changed that reality in a few short years after their inception. The huge selection was not as powerful a magnet as the online marketplace when the customer knew exactly what they wanted, particularly if it wasn’t a bestseller.

Now, flash forward to the present day. I’ve been fishing for lessons from retailers around the world that might constitute useful insight for the Digital Book World audience. My friend Lorraine Shanley of Market Partners suggested I talk to Anna Borne Minberger, the CEO of the Pocket Shop chain of stores, owned by the Swedish publisher, Bonniers. I got to meet Minberger for a conversation at the Frankfurt Book Fair in the last fortnight.

And, lo and behold, Pocket Shop has taken the suggestion I made to Barnes & Noble well over a decade ago and made it work at an extreme I didn’t imagine. Their tiny bookstores stock only about TWO thousand titles, but they are a thriving chain in Sweden and Finland now expanding into Germany. Their formula is a very small title selection placed in very-high-traffic locations (of particular interest here in New York City where both our main railroad stations are losing somewhat larger bookstores) with highly knowledgeable and helpful staff. I didn’t get into the details of buying, inventory management, and centralized infrastructure support in our Frankfurt conversation.

But, near as I can tell, Barnes & Noble still needs a solution to grow their book business; the strategy today only seems to be about how to profitably manage shrinking it. Particularly if it continues to work in Germany, a market (unlike Sweden and Finland) where online buying is strong and Amazon is a real presence in the market, one would think that the Pocket Shop formula would be even more effective if supported by the B&N infrastructure and branding in the United States. Of course, making a strategic shift of this nature is probably a heavier lift for B&N now than it would have been when I first suggested it many years ago.

But I don’t discern any other strategy that leads to growth in what B&N is doing now. If they don’t try copying Pocket Shops strategy in the US, maybe somebody else will. One could execute on this leaning on Ingram’s infrastructure rather than creating one’s own supply chain. Who knows? Maybe even Pocket Shops themselves would like to give it a try.


What Oyster going down demonstrates is not mostly about the viability of ebook subscriptions

The news that the general ebook subscription offering Oyster is throwing in the towel was not really a surprise. The business model they were forced to adopt for the biggest publishers — paying full price for each use of a book with a threshold trigger at considerably less than a complete read while, at the same time, offering consumers a monthly subscription price that barely covered the sale of one book, let alone two — was inevitably unprofitable. Their only hope was that they’d build a large enough audience fast enough that publishers would become in some way dependent on it (if not the revenue it produced) and agree to different terms.

It would be a mistake to interpret Oyster’s demise as clear evidence that “subscriptions for ebooks don’t work”. Obviously, they can. Safari has been a successful and profitable business for nearly two decades. The Spain-based 24Symbols has been operating an ebook subscription business, mostly outside the US and mostly not in English, for too many years to be running exclusively on spec VC money. Scribd has very publicly (and a bit clumsily, in my opinion) adjusted their subscription business model to accommodate what were unprofitable segments in romance ebooks and audiobooks, but the inference would be that for other segments the business model is working just fine. And then there’s Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited, which is sui generis because they control so many of the parts, including deciding more or less unilaterally how much they’ll pay for much of the content.

What seemed obvious to many of us from the beginning, though, was that a stand-alone subscription offer for general trade books could not possibly work in the current commercial environment. The Big Five publishers control the lion’s share of the commercial books that any general service would need. All of those publishers operate on “agency” terms, which makes it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for a subscription service to pull those books in unless the publisher allows it. The terms that the publishers would participate in the subscriptions required, which were, apparently, full payment for the book after a token amount was “read” by a subscriber, combined with a limited number of titles offered (no frontlist), made the subscription offer inherently unprofitable.

The publishers see the general subscription offers as risky business for books that are currently selling well a la carte. Not only would they threaten those sales, they threaten to convert readers from a la carte buying to going through the subscription service. To publishers, this just looked like another potential Amazon: an intermediary that would control reader eyeballs and have increasing clout to rewrite the terms of sale.

So they only participated in a limited way. Penguin Random House (the biggest, and in shouting distance of half of the most commercial books all by themselves) and Hachette Book Group did not even experiment with the non-Amazon subscriptions. HarperCollins and Simon & Schuster, and to a lesser extent Macmillan, participate in a limited way. Multiple motivations drove the participation that did take place. The primary goad, probably, was to simply oppose Amazon. Having customers nested anyplace except the behemoth in Seattle can look like a good idea to most publishers. But another was to collect at least some of that VC money poured into an unlikely-to-work business model before it was exhausted. And because the publishers got to decide which books to include, they could choose backlist titles that weren’t generating much revenue anyway and which might benefit from “discovery” within the subscription service.

(Carolyn Reidy, the CEO at Simon & Schuster, tipped to this in her talk last week at the BISG Annual Meeting where she specifically mentioned the value of the discovery S&S has seen take place in the subscription platforms.)

But not all the subscription services were equal. The established Safari was in a market niche, serving mostly B2B customers in technology companies. (They have recently gone to an expanded offering because Boeing and Microsoft techies don’t just need books about programming; they’re also parents and cooks and gardeners so general-interest non-fiction can appeal to them. But that’s not the foundation of Safari’s business and they’re not trying to push fiction.) Scribd had a foundation business as a sort-of “YouTube for documents” that the ebook subscription business both built on and enhanced. For Amazon, Kindle Unlimited just gave them another way to transact with the ebook customer and it gave them another outlet for their exclusive Kindle content.

Only Oyster and another pretty-much simultaneous startup, Entitle (which had a proposition more like a book club than a straight subscription service), were trying to make the alternative ebook revenue stream into a stand-alone business. Entitle went down before Oyster. Librify, another variation on the theme, was acquired by Scribd.

So the failure of Oyster is actually another demonstration of a “new” reality about book publishing, except it is not so new. Book publishing — and book retailing — are no longer stand-alone businesses. Publishing and bookselling are functions, and they can be quite complementary to other businesses. And as adjuncts to other businesses, they don’t actually have to be profitable to be valuable. What that means is that entities trying to make them profitable — or, worse, requiring them to be profitable to survive — are at a stark competitive disadvantage.

Amazon is the past master at making this reality obvious. Remember that they started as a “book retailer” and nothing else. They leaned on Ingram’s Oregon warehouse to enable their business model, which was to take an order for a book and accept payment, then procure the book from Ingram and send it to the customer, and then a little later pay Ingram’s bill. This positive cash-flow model was so brilliant that Ingram could have readily enabled lots of copycats, and they formed a division called Ingram Internet Support Services to do just that. So Amazon killed that idea by cutting their prices to no-margin levels and discouraged anybody else from getting into the game. That was in the late 1990s.

They could do that because the financial community had already accepted Amazon’s strategy of using books to build a customer base and to measure future business prospects by LCV — the “lifetime customer value” of the people they did business with. And it became clear pretty rapidly that they could sell book readers other things so no- or low-margin sales were simply customer acquisition tactics. This was a game Barnes & Noble and Borders couldn’t play.

Now book and ebook sales are almost certainly no more than a single-digit percentage of Amazon’s total revenue. Kindle Unlimited, like their publishing enterprises and self-publishing offerings, are small parts of a powerful organization that has many ways to win with every customer they recruit.

Scribd is not as powerful as Amazon, but they began with a network of content creators and content consumers. That gave them a marketing advantage over Oyster — not every customer had to be acquired at high cost since many potential customers were already “in the tent”. But it also gave them some stability. Eyebrows were raised recently when Scribd put the brakes on the lending of romance books and audiobooks. But tweaking the business model for those verticals simultaneously leaves open that the model is actually working in other niches.

We can see this playing out in a much more limited way in Barnes & Noble stores, where books are being replaced on shelves by toys and games. But that’s not likely to be enough diversification to matter in the long run. It is certainly not going to get B&N where Amazon is, where far more than nine out of every ten dollars comes from something other than books. And Barnes & Noble is nowhere near a point Amazon has reached: where the profit from book sales is incidental if they keep bringing in new customers and also keeps them loyal.

The story on Oyster, still incomplete as of now, is that a lot of their management team is on its way to Google, which, in effect, “bought” the company to get them. Google seems to be trying hard to make sure we don’t think they bought Oyster’s business, they just bought Oyster’s staff. Obviously, Google fits the description of a company with many other interests in which books can play a part. In the beginning, that was all about search. Now it is also about the Android ecosystem and media sales in general. An ebook subscription business, or even a content subscription business, could make sense in Google’s world. But it would be a relatively small play for them. My hunch, and it is only a hunch, is that they have something other than a mere “book subscription service” in mind for that Oyster staff to work on. Smarter observers than I seem to believe that the personnel Google recruited give them knowledge about Oyster’s mobile reading and discovery technology. Of course, that’s core information for Google.

Similarly, Apple, which now has subscription service for music, might also consider doing one for books — or for all media — at iOS at some point. They don’t have one of Amazon’s advantages — a big stable of intellectual property they control — but they are all about creating an ecosystem that people stay in and don’t leave. Book subscriptions could enhance that.

But the central point I’d take away from this is not that subscription failed, but that a pure book business play failed. One obvious question that provokes is when we will see some signs of synergy between Kobo and their owners at Rakuten, who presumably have Amazon-type ambitions but haven’t seemed to use their ebook business to help pursue them.

And what is true of book retail is also true of book publishing, as we observed in this space quite some time ago. Both publishing and book retailing will increasingly become complements to larger enterprises and decreasingly be stand-alone activities that business can dedicate themselves to for profit.

The New York Times this morning has a front-page article essentially reporting that the ebook surge is over, at least for now, and the print business appears stable. This is great news for publishers if the trend is real. Unfortunately, there were a few important points either elided or ignored that might have undercut the narrative.

One is that, while publishers report ebook sales as a percentage of total book sales steady or slightly declining, Amazon says (and Russell Grandinetti was quoted in the article) their ebook sales are going up. Assuming all this is true, is the difference perhaps sales migrating away from publishers (which sales would be reported by the AAP stats they rely on) and moving to cheaper indie titles available only through Amazon (which sales would not)?

Another is that publishers are raising prices on ebooks and making the price rises stick because of Agency. Is all the sales resistance created by higher prices resulting in print sales, or is some of it causing the book to be rejected for something cheaper? In other words, might total sales for many titles be less than publishers would have looked for before? (At least one agent tells me this is the case.)

And another is that the indie bookstore resurgence has occurred in the years following Borders’s demise and the shifting of the product mix in Barnes & Noble. It is worth asking whether the indies are temporary beneficiaries of a sudden shelf space deficiency or whether we’re really seeing not only an increase in print reading, but a renewed interest by book readers to go to stores to buy the print. That question isn’t posed in this piece.


The Audience Information Sheet is more useful than the Title Information Sheet for marketers (and for publicity and sales too)

The core principles and workflows around marketing books really require change in the digital age, and perhaps more radical change than many people thought. The time-honored process was to somehow communicate knowledge of what was inside a book to book reviewers and bookstore buyers so they could decide whether it was suitable for their audience or their customers. In other words, intimate knowledge of what the book said was presented by the publisher to professional intermediaries who would get word of the book, and copies of the books themselves, to the purchasing public.

The copy was B2B, and the critical requirement to create it was knowledge of the book’s content.

In the digital world we live in now, none of this is true any longer. A core purpose of the marketing effort for books today is to get them “discovered”. That largely means having them show up high on the list of returns for relevant searches. If that’s the objective, then the key knowledge required is not so much what’s in the book as what search terms the most likely customers will use to ask the question or express the desire for which the book is the right answer or fit. And in the world of digital information, Google is the primary intermediary, not the reviewer or bookstore buyer. The copy the publisher creates and puts into digital play will almost certainly be seen more often by potential customers for the book than by industry professionals.

So the copy today must be B2C, intended for consumers, and the core requirement to create it is knowledge of the book’s audiences, where they are found online, and the language they use to discuss the book’s topic. And gaining that knowledge almost always requires research. (As it happens, stronger consumer-directed copy usually ends up being stronger and more effective influencer-directed copy as well.)

One of the longstanding tools of the trade for book marketers has been the Title Information Sheet. Everybody who has worked in trade publishing over the past several decades is familiar with them; every publisher creates and uses them. The TIS contains the beginning and then eventually the ultimate core metadata for the book as well as copy that describes its content, its author, and some ideas about its market.

Two months ago, the Logical Marketing brain trust — Peter McCarthy and Jess Johns — came up with a new tool we think could — we really believe should — become the new standard. We call it the Audience Information Sheet. We have now gotten two pretty substantial publishers to start using them. One — not Big Five, but big — took some seminars with us, had us write them a manual, and is now implementing AIS into their workflow.

Then we beta-tested the AIS with Logical Marketing’s most active Big Five client, a company constantly innovating in digital marketing. They came back to us last week with the word that they’re going to start incorporating our new AIS, which we will provide them, into their workflow. It is worth noting that the ones we create will be somewhat deeper and more sophisticated than the ones created by the previously mentioned client doing it themselves. The do-it-yourself effort was “right-sized” to fit the publisher’s capabilities and resources. What they do without us covers the semantics very well; we do a lot more with audience segmentation and analysis in the ones we deliver.

Both these publishers see what we see. The TIS was the core information needed by book marketers before Google. The AIS has the core information book marketers — as well as people responsible for sales and publicity — need now.

Here are the components of an Audience Information Sheet.

1. A high-level audience profile describing the book’s audience in very general terms. “Married moms who range in age from their twenties to their early fifties.” “His audience associates him with his work around obesity, healthy eating, and nutrition.” This description might also include other authors the audience might consider to be “comps”.

2. Demographic insights into the audiences, such as we find them in social and search, for which we employ tools to analyze the characteristics of the people it finds and learn their age, marital status, gender, income level.

3. Behavior and lifestyle insights include the personal interests of the audience and their occupations/professions, and spending/purchasing habits.

4. Geographic insights are gained both from “search trends” and “social trends”. We look for geographical areas that “over-index” for interest in the book’s subject, genre, settings, or for audiences with the right characteristics.

5. Audience segmentation and targeting examines each of the major audience segments (“Moms”, “Natural/whole/organic food community”, “Popular science”) that logically follow from the research and tells you where you find them (geographically or institutionally), what brands they like, what topics they talk about, and what platforms (Facebook, Instagram) they frequent. The number of audience segments broken out this way varies with the book, of course, but anywhere from three-to-six such segments is typical.

6. Keywords, Topics, Phrases, and Influencers are lists that are the key pieces of information to employ for all marketing efforts that follow. We present the search terms that are important to surface the book’s audience, including how many times each term is searched each month, in the U.S. (Or in other countries, as appropriate. We can do this work from the perspective of just about any country that uses our alphabet.) Then hashtagged subjects are listed with the number of Tweets in the past month and the number of Instagram posts that have occurred (measuring the amount of “chatter” around a book and the form it takes). Then the key influencers, the Twitter accounts (and, from there, the sites, blogs, and other accounts they use) that would be most productive to engage on behalf of the book, are enumerated as well.

Every component of the AIS gives marketers useable data. Beyond consumer marketing online, the data informs old-fashioned publicity efforts and can direct sales activity as well. As marketing opportunities present themselves during the course of a book’s life, those responsible for pitching the book will find useful guidance in the AIS over and over again. Only time will tell, but it sure feels to us like we’ve created a tool that, once used, will be very hard to do without.

Logical Marketing has been issuing a weekly email roundup of new developments we see in the worlds of search, social, and tech. You can take a look at these here and, if you find it useful, sign up for a free subscription.


Two pieces of news last week that foretell changes in the ebook marketplace

Two pieces of news this past week and how things play out with them might foretell some things about the direction of the ebook market.

One news item is that reading on phones is really taking off.  More than half of ebook consumers use their phones at least some of the time and the number that primarily read on phones is up to one in seven.

The other is that the German ebook market will shortly be predominantly DRM-free. With Random House fast-following fellow global publisher Holtzbrinck in ditching the digital locks, one of the largest non-English markets in the world is going where the English-language market has determinedly refused to tread. [There are exceptions, of course — O’Reilly, Tor, Harlequin’s digital first imprint Carina, Baen, and other small, primarily genre publishers.]

It was less than a month ago that Holtzbrinck made that announcement and we figured Random House wouldn’t be far behind.

A lot of theories about ebooks are about to be tested.

My personal reaction to the switch to mobile phone reading is “what took so long?” I started reading ebooks on a Palm Pilot in 1999. I got excited about it because it brought books to a device I was already carrying all the time anyway. In the beginning to me, that was the whole point to ebooks: I didn’t need another device beyond the one I already had on my person all the time anyway. In 2002, there was a meme active for a little while which questioned the value proposition of ebooks. Why would anybody want them? I spoke at a Seybold Conference about that with a simple answer:

If you really use a Personal Digital Assistant each day, are among the growing number that carry one with you all the time, you don’t need anybody to explain the value and utility of ebooks. The converse of this is that if you don’t use a PDA regularly, ebooks are of very little value to you. There is some minor utility to having a book and reader software on your notebook, but not much.

It might have been that search for more “value” in ebooks that drove years of experimentation in making them something more than screen-fitted rendering of text, trying to add functionality using digital capability in a long succession of commercial failures.

My friend, Joe Esposito, one of publishing’s more imaginative thinkers, identified and named the concept of “interstitial reading” some years ago, by which he meant grabbing a few minutes with a book on a check-out line or waiting for the movie to start. I remember a former neighbor of mine who always had a book in hand when he got in the elevator on the 14th floor and read a page or two as we descended to the lobby. That was a peculiar habit with a printed book; it is going to be increasingly common practice as more of us read on hand-helds we always have in our possession.

It could be that publisher Judith Curr of the Atria imprint at S&S is hitting the nail on the head when she predicts that the future of reading is on phones and paper.

An important question going forward is how reading on the phone will affect the shopping patterns. Here we have an interesting dichotomy which depends on the individual use case. What kind of phone do you have, Apple or Android? And which ereading ecosystem do you prefer, Amazon Kindle, Apple iBooks, or somebody else’s like Google or Kobo or Nook?

Here’s why it matters. When you use the iBooks app on an iPhone, you can shop for books right in the app. I haven’t done it except to buy a book I knew I wanted. I usually read on the Kindle app and occasionally on the Google Play app. In both cases, I do my shopping from my PC on the Kindle or Google Play site. My purchase is instantly accessible on my phone after I make it, but it is a two-machine process for me to buy.

Of course, I can also go to the Kindle or Google Play sites through my phone’s browser. Going outside the app is a requirement, but using another device is not. (Frankly, it is just easier to do the shopping with a real screen and keyboard.)

The limitations on iOS devices are created because Apple insists on its 30 percent cut for sales made within their apps. Android doesn’t, so the Android versions of apps do allow shopping within the app. Still, as with almost everything, it appears that more content-purchasing and consumption takes place among iOS users than Android users.

One would expect that as phone reading increases, it will tend to favor the “home stores” for the phones themselves. Those are iBooks and Google Play. This is obviously not any sort of mortal blow to Kindle if my own experience, maintaining the Kindle habit almost uninterrupted, is any guide. But it is definitely a bit easier to buy within the app you read in than to have to go outside of it.

If is an often-made point that phones come with built-in distractions of email and text messages arriving all the time. But tablet computers — which have steadily been taking ereading share from print and dedicated ereading devices for some years now — have email arriving all the time too. And tablet computers offer the whole web as a potential distraction too, just like the phones do. I’m not sure that the distraction component has changed that much recently during the rise of phone ereading.

And there are already lots of writers who do very short chapters (like the bestselling one of all, James Patterson) that readily satisfy the “interstitial reading” windows. It will take an analysis that there is probably no obvious metadata for to decide whether books that are already “chunked” benefit from the movement to phone-reading.

New reading habits do spawn publishing initiatives. Our friend, Molly Barton (longtime Penguin digital director), has a publishing startup called Serial Box that plans to parcel out long-form novels in self-contained chunks.

The German ebook market is much a smaller part of total book sales than ours, estimated at around five percent of sales rather than in the mid-20s. That is due to a combination of economic factors — including that Amazon is hobbled by fixed pricing that places ebook discounting off limits — as well as any cultural ones. (Online book sales in Germany are variously estimated between 15 and 25 percent — perhaps half what it is in the US. Amazon does have the lion’s share of that. Bookstores have half the business; the rest is split among direct sales, mass merchants, other non-bookstores, and catalogs.)

But one publisher after another has concluded that watermarking (what is often called “soft DRM”) is all the restraint on pass-along and casual sharing that is needed. Now all the big publishers will work that way.

My friends in Germany tell me that there are still small publishers who want to keep DRM, which they will probably be enabled to do for some time. In fact, the Adobe DRM holds the information about who is a valid purchaser, so it might not be simple for retailers to walk away from it even after the locks are no longer required if they want to do more than guess whether a customer wanting to re-download a prior purchase is actually entitled to. And it might be very difficult for the market to totally dismiss DRM, if the English-language publishers still want it applied to the English-language books sold in Germany. That’s substantial business and the retailers — particularly Amazon — wouldn’t want to force a situation where the output of US and UK publishers must either be DRM-free too or not available in the German market.

It has always been the concern of many publishers, agents, and big authors that removal of DRM would result in unfettered sharing which could really hurt book sales. A longtime DRM skeptic, publisher and industry thought-leader Tim O’Reilly, once characterized DRM as “progressive taxation”, which would seem to validate the notion that big authors have something to worry about. (O’Reilly publishes professional content which changes and updates often; precisely the opposite, from a fear-of-sharing point of view, of what James Patterson publishes.) Clearly, German publishers observing what has happened in their market don’t share that fear. American publisher and part of the Holtzbrinck publishing group,Tom Doherty, has also talked publicly about the (lack of) impact of Tor’s switch to DRM-free: “…the lack of DRM in Tor ebooks has not increased the amount of Tor books available online illegally, nor has it visibly hurt sales”.

Aside from increasing the potential to lose sales through pass-along, the other impact of removing the DRM requirement could be to make it easier for anybody to be an ebook retailer putting content on just about any device. The necessity of providing DRM has always been blamed for cost and technology barriers that kept retailers from going into ebooks in any casual way. Theoretically, the cost of being an ebook retailer in a DRM-free environment could be much lower, including a claimed and hoped-for diminution of customer service requirements. If true, that could be especially important for ebook sales in verticals, where a range of content could be a sensible add-on for a retailer’s offerings. People who sell hard goods don’t want to deal with DRM and the customer service requirements it creates.

The tech details of this run deeper than my personal knowledge, but people whose sophistication about it I respect caution me not to expect that much change in this regard. Watermarking (“soft” DRM, or DRM without “digital locks”) is also non-trivial from a tech point of view. New reading systems could proliferate without DRM-discipline, which could also create customer service requirements. It could be the claims for ease-of-use without DRM will turn out to be overblown. We will see.

It has always been my contention that the DRM discussion was more heated than the effect really warranted. Since I never really wanted to move an ebook from one ecosystem to another, or pass an ebook along to somebody else, DRM never got in my way. But it was also obviously blocking entrants from joining the ebook retailing ranks and creating major customer service issues for any independent efforts.

The two things to watch in Germany are whether ebook sales, particularly for top titles, are maintained or softened in any way by pass-along and, at least as important, whether new ebook retailing really is enabled by ditching the DRM requirement. The watermarking will help publishers find the source of ebooks that end up being publicly pirated or posted. I wouldn’t expect some explosion of piracy, but there will certainly be a lot to learn.

The chances are pretty good that what will be learned will lead to DRM-free coming to the English language as well in the next couple of years.