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Something caught my eye this week that has been very little commented upon elsewhere: the news that Hachette Book Group developed an app-making capability that they are now licensing out. Their first customer was Round Table Companies, a book packager.

I found this striking because big book publishers are not generally known for developing technology; they’re more likely to be buyers of it. This is not an ironclad rule: Scholastic has an ereading platform in development to satisfy the special needs of the children’s book market and it is trying to work with other publishers who might want to avail themselves of the platform.

But from the standpoint of one who has observed publishers wrestling with technology for many years, this deal is very unusual. When Random House bought Smashing Ideas, a technology company, that seemed like the likely course for big publishers to take: acquiring technology that could be useful to them after it had been developed by somebody else.

There are other companies and entrepreneurs developing app-making tools. Most big publishers would be trying those out and getting great deals to do so because the companies making the tools need the validation of having them used by major players. The fact that Hachette even attempted to develop this capability on its own is unusual; that they succeeded at making something useful and cost-effective to the extent that Round Table preferred their solution to one developed by technologists is why it is worthy of comment.

Even acknowledging that selling the tech to a packager is not quite the same as selling it to a direct Big Six competitor, I don’t know if this is a harbinger or an outlier.

But I do know that it challenges one of my long-held assumptions about publishers and technology.

When you invest in intellectual property, whether publishing a book or developing software, you normally want to monetize that investment across the widest possible range of customers which you can only do by distributing through the widest possible array of channels. That’s the handicap Amazon has right now being a publisher: they don’t have effective distribution to brick stores and, as long as they want to keep what they invest in restricted to the Kindle for ebooks, it is pretty certain that they won’t. Over time, the number of brick stores will diminish so that will matter less and less and, if Kindle retains its position of primacy among ebook retailers, what is a real handicap today may become trivial. But traditional or legacy or real (pick your adjective) publishers really do have a wider distribution base than Amazon for books published today. (That doesn’t mean they will necessarily sell more, but it does mean they should!)

By the same token, I never thought it made much sense for a publisher, on its own, to develop software for product development or distribution that should have industry-wide application. I figured it would be hard for one publisher to sell software to another; the buyer would be afraid they were just permanently strengthening the margins and the hand of a competitor.

That same fear of strengthening a competitor is the reason that other types of collaboration that would seem obviously synergistic, like for publishers who do science fiction books to join together to create a science fiction community, haven’t happened. There was a moment a couple of years ago when Macmillan’s Tor.com suggested they’d start selling other publishers’ books to their community and invite other publishers in to strengthen it, but that never happened, even though it can’t make sense in the long run for what are ostensibly genre-driven communities to be siloed by publisher. I felt the same logic applied to publishers doing software development.

But that long-held assumption of mine is being challenged, by Random House buying Smashing Ideas and planning to keep it going as a provider of services to competitors, by Scholastic developing its own platform for displaying digital content and recruiting other publishers to join them, by three US publishers combining to create the new retailer Bookish (and three UK publishers replicating that idea with a UK version called Anobii), and, most dramatically, by Hachette creating an app-maker that a leading book packager finds a cost-effective way to build apps.

We still don’t know what will work. Will Smashing Ideas thrive under Random House ownership? Will Scholastic succeed in establishing a new reading platform for children’s books that can find a prominent place in the market? Will Bookish or Anobii succeed at becoming an important force in ebook sales alongside Amazon, Apple, Kobo, Google, and B&N?

And will what Hachette has done with their app-making capability be a trick they can repeat, developing technology to meet other challenges publishers face? Will Hachette become a specialized software vendor, developing publishing-specific tools, as well as a book publisher?

If so, they have found at least one formula that can help them through what are bound to be increasingly challenging times for general trade publishers.

We’re staging a conference next week in San Francisco which is a reprise of the very successful and well-received eBooks for Everyone Else event that we did in New York on September 26. We have a great show in San Francisco, adding a talk with successful self-publishing author Bob Mayer; a presentation from Penguin’s Molly Barton about their new Book Country initiative; a very interesting group of agents that will be interviewed by Charlotte Abbott; and a reprise of our “speed-dating” 1-on-1 sessions for attendees with service providers and experts to enable everybody to get their specific questions answered.

One major highlight of the show is going to be a presentation by my Publishers Launch Conferences partner, Michael Cader, which sorts out the myriad distribution and go-to-market choices facing today’s self-publisher. Michael did thorough research for this segment and, having seen the outline of the talk, I am certain it is the clearest and most complete survey of what has been a confusing and cluttered landscape of services that anybody attending will have ever heard.

Undoubtedly, Michael’s summary and analysis will make it to the web in the days after the conference, but if you’ll be in or near San Francisco next Wednesday, November 2, it alone will be worth the price of admission to eBooks for Everyone Else.

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The recent news that digital revenues have reached approximately 20% at some of the Big Six houses makes me believe that we are on the verge of a tectonic shift in the industry. It provoked me to think through the logical extension of well-established trends and comment recently that I see an 80% ebook world for straight narrative text coming in two to five years. (By “straight narrative text” I mean books of just words.)

One of my most respected sometimes colleagues privately told me the 80% number was “absurd”. But considering the logic and evidence that was offered up to refute my projection only made me more convinced that I’m right. So it’s time to expose the thought process to one of the most acute groups of critical thinkers I know: the readers of this blog.

When the Kindle came on the scene in November 2007, almost exactly four years ago, ebook sales were in the neighborhood of 1% of major publishers’ sales revenue. Since then it has risen, by my calculations, between 2 and 2.6 times per year. So we’re at 20% of revenue now in October 2011; we were a bit under 10% a year ago, around 4% this time in 2009, and about 2% at this time in 2008, when Kindle was in its infancy and its only device competition was the Sony Reader. (When you look at “annual” numbers for each of those years they’re lower, but that’s because share was gained throughout those years, fueled by new device releases; I’m talking about where things stood at about this point of the year.)

I interpret 20% of Big Six sales revenue to mean something closer to 25% of units sold, because ebooks bring in substantially less revenue per copy sold than print on major hardcover books (although they can bring in a bit more on paperbacks). But many books were not yet ebookable: most juveniles and illustrated books are not represented in that figure. So I don’t think it is a stretch to figure that ebooks are constituting 30% of the units sold for straight narrative text.

(Working backwards, that means I think ebooks were about 15% of the straight narrative text units a year ago, about 6% of the units in 2009, 2-3% of the units in 2008, and probably fewer than 1% of the units in 2007, before Kindle.)

Although the following analysis was widely misunderstood when I offered it on a prior post (the misunderstandings are evident in the comment string), the way I’m defining the measurement of this — what percentage of a straight text book’s total sale will be ebooks? — the number cannot exceed 100%. So, clearly, it is impossible for the rate of share growth which has been sustained for four years, since the introduction of the Kindle, to continue for more than about another 18 months.

In fact, at some point the switchover from print to ebooks will slow to a crawl. Sales of straight text books won’t reach 98% digital for many years, perhaps decades. What I’d expect is that we’ll reach a point of print resistance and adoption will slow down dramatically. We can argue about where that point will be. I think it is 80%. A major executive was reported to have said in Frankfurt that he thinks ebook sales will “plateau” at 40%. (Maybe he meant 40% of revenue, which, depending on how much of the house’s output was straight text, would probably be nearer to 60% of straight text units.) Everybody’s entitled to their opinion and only time will prove us right or wrong.

There are a lot of reasons to expect a continuation of the recent trend of share doubling every year, at least for a while longer. Ebook readers and tablet computers are getting cheaper and more widely distributed, by which I mean that more and more places are selling them. (One hears widespread speculation that next year we’ll see offers for devices to be free with the purchase of a number of ebooks.) The number of titles available in multiple languages continues to grow. The price of new books in digital editions is established at about half the publisher’s suggested hardback price for the hottest new releases (and also much less than most stores would sell the print book for). Everybody who hasn’t yet switched to a digital device yet knows people who have successfully and comfortably done so. More and more libraries have ebook offerings (although they can’t obtain a lot of the bestsellers at this time.)

Cheaper books, more to choose from, and more plentiful and cheaper devices would not imply any slowdown in adoption in the short term, except that those most receptive to switching have already done so. But I don’t find that a persuasive argument for an imminent slowdown; some of the late adoptees, particularly the young, just couldn’t afford the devices until the prices came down.

In fact, one thing Amazon established very early in the life of the Kindle is that the heavier book purchasers tend to move to the readers faster. It makes intuitive sense that the price of a reader is amortized more quickly by somebody who buys more books. So, in fact, we could reach 80% of the units being purchased digitally if a much smaller number, say 40% of the people who buy books, make the transition.

Among those reading this post who would fervently hope I’m wrong would be anybody with an interest in a brick bookstore, whose survival challenge is only made more difficult if the trend to ebook reading accelerates. What this says to me is bookstores would be wise to specialize in books that make great gifts and children’s books (and there is some anecdotal evidence that the stores doing well have done exactly that; the most often cited being Books and Books in Coral Gables, FL).

So except that we know the adoption rate must (at some point) slow down as we approach saturation, I find little reason to assume that it will do so anytime soon.

If the trend that has been unbroken for four years continued for another year, ebooks would constitute 40% of big publisher sales volume and 60% of units for all straight text books by a year from now. At that rate, we’d reach 80% units on straight text in the quarter after Christmas 2012.

When I say I think we’ll hit it in two to five years, I’m being consciously restrained. To get there in two years would require that consumers switch from print to digital at about 60-70 percent of the speed they have for the last four years over the next two. Were it to take five years, it would mean the conversion rate would have slowed to a crawl compared to where it has been.

So the outer edge of the prediction I stated (five years) is, to my way of thinking, unlikely because it is too slow. Predicting the current rate for 18 months is probably too aggressive, but 2-3 years is not. Having it take longer than that would surprise me and I’d love it if anybody predicting that would explain what they think will slow things down so drastically in the months to come compared to the recent past.

The colleague who thought I had taken leave of reality offered some logic. First of all, it was observed that ebook sales rose most rapidly in 2011 right after Christmas, particularly as a percentage of total sales, rather than steadily throughout the year. That didn’t surprise me. It is due to an effect I have written about previously which last year was not softened by new device releases midyear and previously had been.

Ebook readers make great Christmas gifts (better every year than the year before because there are more to choose from and they get cheaper). This has turned Christmas Day into a great sales day for ebooks but the process of new device owners “loading up” apparently continues for a couple of months after Christmas. So ebook sales in the first quarter are artificially inflated and will continue to be until we reach saturation on readers, which will probably be at least two more years. When just about everybody who reads many books already has an ereader, the post-Christmas bump will diminish markedly.

But, at the same time, the print sales reported are depressed in the first quarter. Returns come in from what have too often recently been disappointing print sales at Christmas and, at the same time, the purchase of new titles in the first quarter is dampened because some stores give up the ghost after a failed Christmas season and others are jolted into greater conservatism in their stocking by declining sales.

Since print book sales net of returns are depressed and ebook sales are stimulated by gift devices, the percentage of sales that are digital reaches a dramatic new height in the first quarter. This has happened in recent years and will happen again in 2012 and maybe in 2013.

Ebook sales in dollars were also reduced in the past two years by switches to agency pricing. Five of the Big Six went agency on April 1, 2010, when the iBookstore opened. Random House went to agency in early March, 2011. When publishers switch from the wholesale model to agency, the amount they get from each ebook they sell goes down. So even if the book continues to sell at exactly the same velocity (and it might not, since agency also raises prices to the consumer), the publisher’s revenue will decline.

These changes, which have raised the price of major publisher ebooks, have not prevented the year-on-year growth described in this piece, but the timing of the agency switches did tend to make the increases look like they are grouped in one big step increment at the beginning of the year.

To an extent they are but not as much as they look. And we’ll be taking that step again when the calendar turns over to 2012.

(The dampening impact on revenues of the switch to agency by the five publishers in April 2010 was mitigated, indeed overwhelmed, by the impact of all those iPad devices creating new purchasers for ebooks. And there were new devices that year from Nook as well.)

Another piece of evidence I was asked to consider that would apparently contravene the 80% prediction is that music sales are still split 50-50 between digital downlads and shrinkwrapped CDs. I love knocking down comparisons with the music business (I started doing it in the very early days of the blog) but this one is almost too easy.

While sales of music may still be split 50-50 between downloads and CDs, consumption is almost certainly not. People can acquire their music on CDs and still consume it through digital devices. By doing that, they get additional value in metadata (those little books that come with the CDs) and they get a copy of the music that they can readily give away as a gift.

But when somebody switches over to consume their books digitally, purchasing the hard copy version is not an option. So it isn’t helpful or indicative to look at how music sales divide; we’d have to look at how music consumption divides. And I’ll bet anybody who wants the wager that it is not 50-50! When was the last time you saw somebody playing a CD?

It was also offered up to me that Bowker polling of book consumers has found consistently this year that only 15% of the people report having bought an ebook each month. I’d say that is entirely consistent with my hunch that 30% of straight text units are digital. We’ve observed throughout the digital transition that ebook purchasers are heavy purchasers. In fact, I’d have been surprised (and felt I had some explaining to do) if the number of ebook purchasers were higher than 15% at the moment.

Until the leap this year, the switch from print consumption to ebooks was deceptively easy for a publisher to absorb without making drastic changes to its organizational structure. That time has passed. The book business we see today — how titles are acquired, developed, marketed, and distributed — is still built on the basic industry that was constructed over the past 100 years. Unless there is something wildly wrong with my logic (and I’m counting on my readers to make me see it if there is), we’ll see more fundamental change in the way straight text books are published over the next 36 months than we have over the past 36 years.

The implications of this shift require a lot more thought than I’ve been able to give it so far. But one thing I think it will mean is that trade publishing will trifurcate in the next few years. With bookstores as the primary distribution channel, it was no problem for one publisher to do straight text narrative, children’s books, and illustrated books. They shipped to the same customers in the same box. If bookstores aren’t the primary channel, these different kinds of “books” will not have a lot of commonality: in sourcing, creation, marketing, or distribution channels. I wonder how many publishers are thinking about their publishing programs with that in mind.

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The week I spend each year at the Frankfurt Book Fair is always the most stimulating week of my professional year. The concentration of the best thinkers and most powerful people in publishing always seems to lead me to a new burst of understanding about our global publishing world, particularly in these times of rapid change.

I saw one Big Six CEO who noted that I had said last week that I expected the US publishers to be living in an 80% ebook world pretty soon although the global head of another of the Big Six companies had just stated the belief that the switchover to digital would stop, or slow down significantly, at 40%. I respectfully disagree, but will save that argument for another post. The one I talked to, who chuckled about the wide disparity in these two predictions, didn’t express an opinion about which of us was right, but the implications of the two predictions are so different that it behooves the people running the biggest companies to at least consider mine, even if they believe his.

I also talked to a business development executive for one of the tech companies that has been converting backlists from print and pdf to epub. He made the point that his business remains robust but moves around the world as new markets discover serially that they need to get their intellectual property into digital form. We agreed that those of us who make a living on the digital transition — and that certainly includes me at the moment (what are you reading this blog for?) — have a few more years ahead of us before we’ll have to figure out how to make a living on the new reality (if we need to keep making a living when it arrives…)

With the deals announced at Frankfurt by Kobo with the English retailer WHSmith and the French retailer Fnac along with the quickening pace of store openings by Apple and Amazon, the future shape of the ebook retailing landscape has been more clearly defined. It looks to me like we’ll have three principal global players that will be active in every market — they being Amazon, Apple, and Kobo — plus perhaps a local contender in each market as well. Barnes & Noble has played the latter role extremely successfully so far in the United States; Waterstone’s will attempt the same in the UK starting next Spring; there is local competition in Germany; and certainly there will be in many other countries as the ebook revolution laps at their shores. Google, being Google, will not go away, but they will remain a relatively marginal player unless and until they put considerably more energy into their solution and into promoting what they have.

The Kobo deals are the game-clarifiers, if not game-changers. A sage observer of the digital scene stopped at my stand here in Frankfurt to discuss the WHSmith-Kobo arrangement with me and he wondered whether this was the best deal for both sides. Should Kobo have been trying harder to make a deal with Waterstone’s? Is it wise for WHSmith to be making a deal where they sell the devices but connect them to a Kobo-branded store?

But that, of course, is the key to the deal. The economics of the devices don’t work unless you also can sell the ebooks to go into them. (That’s the answer to all the geniuses who think Barnes & Noble is being thick not implementing an international rollout of the Nook!) Neither WHSmith nor Fnac is principally a book retailer: books are just another product line in stores that sell other things and have a broader identity. By selling a reader attached to an ebook store that serves customers well, they buy themselves relevance to the book consumer during the transition and extend their lives as booksellers. They demonstrate recognition that building and maintaining a ebook store is not a trivial undertaking and, in the face of several global competitors, not something they want to undertake from their position as a country-specific, and more general, retailer.

By tying up with Kobo, both WHSmith and Fnac can get into the market with ereading devices at about the same time as Amazon brings in the Kindle. And WHSmith launching for Christmas 2011 should be terrifying Waterstone’s, which will be months behind with devices and almost certainly delivering a less consumer-friendly store off the bat than the experienced Kobo offering will be.

Barnes & Noble has achieved startling success at establishing a strong second-place position in the US ebook market, but their situation may prove to be unique. First of all, they’re in the biggest single ebook market (by value, even though poorer markets may pass them sometime sooner in units) we’re likely to see for a decade or more. Second, they are a very serious book retailer that has built strong relationships among book publishers worldwide over many years. And third, their execution was nearly flawless. Even with their precedent as an example, there is no guarantee that Waterstone’s, or anybody else, can pull off what they did in another market.

So if it is a global game and you have to be a global player to be competitive, as well as a “whole ecosystem” game that requires devices attached to a well-stocked and well-presented econtent retailing environment to succeed, we can see the steep uphill fight to be waged by the other players trying to compete with Amazon, Apple, and Kobo, whether they be Google, Copia, Sony, Baker & Taylor’s Blio, or the new entrants financed by publisher collaboration: Anobii in the UK and Bookish in the US.

All other things being equal, I can see a global ebook marketplace that some years from now is 90-95% controlled by Amazon, Apple, Kobo, and a local player in each country, with Google getting most of the rest. Google may punch above its weight on the long tail because discovery of the obscure or highly niched content might be their forte; one scholarly publisher told me at Frankfurt that he is already seeing some real growth in his Google sales, which no trade publisher has said in my earshot yet.

But all other things may not remain equal. One informed member of the European digerati told me he believes that the European Competition Commission may outlaw the agency model in the European Union. Were that to happen, that would tilt the playing field substantially toward Amazon. It is ironic that the biggest, strongest, and most deep-pocketed competitor for global ebook sales could be handed an enormous competitive advantage by bureaucrats ostensibly trying to foster a competitive marketplace. Publishers may have deficiencies in their understanding of the digital transition, but it would appear that the government bureaucracies the world over might be far more confused than the publishers are.

I’m posting this before I leave the Frankfurt Book Fair on Sunday afternoon, European time. I won’t have the opportunity to respond to any comments until at least Monday night London time. I drive with a friend and the charming little hotel we stay at in Monschau doesn’t have wifi and I don’t have the digital dexterity (with “digital” in this case referring to “fingers”) to do lengthy replies on my iPhone.

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Almost two years ago, I wrote a post which continues to be one of the most-read in the history of this blog, the point of which was that the business model disruption (called “agency”) prompted by the iPad would have more impact on the ebook ecosystem than the device itself. I’m happy to repeat that statement today because I think events have proven that hunch to be correct.

This week Amazon announced their new tablet, the Kindle Fire. (Mine’s on order. I gave the original Kindle I had to my wife, who still uses it. I also own an iPad but never read books on it. As everybody who reads this blog regularly knows, my ebook consumption is all iPhone, largely purchased through the Kindle store, sometimes through Nook, Kobo, or Google, but never through iBookstore.)

The Kindle Fire announcement has unleashed a spate of stories in the tech press about the battle between Apple and Amazon. Who knows what Apple’s rejoinder will be, but it would seem that Fire offers much more than half of what an iPad delivers to a media consumer for much less than half the price and about two-thirds the weight. It appears it will fit in the hip pocket of a man’s suit jacket. That sounds like a competitive formula. It already was for Nook Color, and Amazon seems, at least for the moment, to have done them one better.

Books are not the central focus of this Amazon-Apple battle even from Amazon’s point of view and they are certainly are not from Apple’s. Apple is a device company and their content offerings, and their control of their content offerings, are intended to reinforce the unique experience their devices deliver. Amazon certainly knows from their Kindle experience that offering the right device can propel content sales and secure the content customers’ business (a lesson B&N has both learned and demonstrated quite successfully with Nook as well). The Fire is as much about video content as it is about books.

But in the book business, we look at these two titans in a different way because they force publishing into managing two completely different commercial models simultaneously. That’s not something most of the tech community has paid any attention to in the prolific “Amazon versus Apple” commentary following the Kindle Fire announcement. But it reinforces the point made in the post from two years ago: the fact that Amazon and Apple have different approaches to acquiring and pricing content offerngs is the most important aspect of the battle between them to the book publishing community. Who “wins”, as in “who sells the most devices?” (or even “who sells the most ebooks?”), is really quite secondary since both are significant and neither is going away.

Amazon wants to acquire its book content with the ability to control the selling price so they can continue to burnish their reputation as the lowest-cost provider and exploit other advantages that their huge customer base and extraordinarily deep pockets provide them. Apple wants a margin-guaranteed commercial model that also assures them that they won’t be embarrassed by having their customers see the same content for a lower price elsewhere.

Apple assumed they’d be able to move the most devices and, with price neutrality, create enough advantages to their device owners to shop in the device’s “home” store to satisfy their competitive requirements. That is, Apple’s content-selling strategy was to maximize their market share among their own device owners. They do nothing to move the content onto other companies’ devices.

But Amazon is a store first; the devices are in service to the store, not the other way around. Price competition is a key component of their competitive toolkit. And they are relentless at using their tools to take market share and margin away from their retailing competitors.

Publishers see their interests more closerly aligned with Apple’s strategy than with Amazon’s. After all, Apple is perfectly comfortable with the idea that others will need to provide content to whatever non-Apple devices are out there. Amazon wants to dominate content sales to all devices. Publishers want an ecosystem with as many contact points for consumers as possible to protect them from being disintermediated by somebody downstream (namely Amazon). And they like the necessity of managing a lot of resellers because it protects them from being disintermediated by somebody upstream (the agents or authors).

Amazon found out in a battle with Macmillan very shortly after I wrote the piece cited at the top that they couldn’t bully the Big Six publishers into abandoning agency pricing. So they gave up the effort to do that, and the Big Six now apply agency across the ebook supply chain, creating uniform prices through all outlets for most of the biggest commercial titles on offer.

But Amazon did not find it necessary to back down from their insistence on wholesale for everybody else. And that means that, except for the Big Six, all publishers that want to offer their ebooks through both Amazon and Apple are forced into the “hybrid” model: agency with Apple, wholesale with Amazon, and a choice between the two for everybody else.*

The models are ultimately incompatible and create anomalies (an example of which with a high-profile title not published by one of the Big Six we reported on recently.)

And that, not the device war itself, is the most important component of the Amazon versus Apple battle to the book publishing community. With the recent move by Apple to end direct-linking to their proprietary stores out of the apps of other ebook sellers, they are undoubtedly increasing the market share of iBookstore (even though their title selection still lags way behind their competitors.) There’s a price in lost sales to pay if an ebook isn’t available in all the places customers might shop for their next read.

But to make an ebook available through both Amazon and Apple, a publisher must set two retail prices: one to sell to consumers at through Apple and one to base a discount on for sales through Amazon. Publishers will continue to see titles flagged by Apple on a weekly basis because they were on sale somewhere (presumably Amazon) at a lower price than the publisher set for Apple, allowing Apple to lower the price (and to proportionately decrease their payment to publishers for sale of that ebook.)

The advantages of agency, including the ability to raise and lower prices to generate promotion or to take advantage of stronger demand, will continue to be reserved to the Big Six. So will the potential advantage (not yet realized, to our knowledge) for the Big Six of being able to sell from within apps or off their own web sites because they have the ability to do that without competing with their retailers on price. And so is the protection against the possibility that an agency reseller will lower the price to meet a wholesale reseller’s competition, thus cutting the revenue delivered to the publisher and, ultimately, to the author.

I have not yet explored the ramifications of agency versus wholesale or hybrid with an agent from the author’s commercial point of view, but it would seem to be an advantage for the Big Six publishers in signing up major authors that they alone can enforce agency. And with the device battle now joined and bound to be going on for many years to come, it would appear that the division between Apple and Amazon will perpetuate a division between the Big Six and all other publishers which will last for the foreseeable future.

* Writing that asterisked sentence (several grafs above) made me realize what I didn’t know. How do publishers set their two different retail prices, one of which is the basis fo 50 off and a retailer-set customer price and one of which is the basis of 30 off and that is the price? Who decides on which basis the other ebook retailers — B&N, Kobo, and the rest — do their purchasing? (I know they all benefit from agency, so presumably they buy agency with the same assurances of price-protection Apple takes, but do they have a choice?) And how many publishers just refuse to sell to Apple so they can put all publishers on wholesale and let the discounting occur as it will?

I know people to ask about all this, but not on a baseball playoff weekend. It will likely be the subject of a future post.

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One could say (and I would) that the ereading revolution is coming up to its 4th anniversary since it was late November 2007 when Amazon first released the Kindle. There had been dedicated ereading devices before then, including the Sony Reader — in the market when Kindle arrived and still here, if not wildly successful — and the already-defunct Rocket Book and Softbook devices that had debuted and disappeared some years before. And in the early 1990s we had the Sony Bookman, which showed only a few lines of text at one time and disappeared with barely a trace. The biggest-selling ebook format, before Kindle, put content on the Palm Pilot and the total ebook market was so far beneath a rounding error that any investment by a publisher in digitization was being made on faith, not on commercial evidence.

And many people in publishing believed that reading on a screen would take many years to take hold, if it ever would.

Now, less than four years later, we are living in a changed world, although not yet a transformed one. But transformed might be coming very soon.

As ebook sales in the US now appear to have reached the 20% of revenue threshhold at some publishers already (so it is there or will be for everybody very soon), there are some things we can say we know about the shape of the future, but some very important other things that we don’t know yet.

We know that most people will adjust pretty readily to reading straight text narrative books on a screen rather than paper.

We know that parents will hand their iPad, iPhone, or Nook Color device to a kid so that they can enjoy children’s books on the device.

We don’t know whether adult illustrated book content will be equally well accepted by book consumers on devices, even though there are more and more devices capable of displaying pretty much what publishers deliver on a printed page.

We don’t know what parents will pay for a brief illustrated children’s book delivered for a device, but it appears it might be much less than they’re willing to pay for paper.

We know that consumers will pay paperback prices and more for plain vanilla ebooks, or “verbatim” ebooks.

We don’t know whether consumers will accept paying higher prices for video, audio, or software enhancements to the verbatim ebooks.

In fact, we don’t know if consumers would pay paperback prices for ebooks if the paperback were not ubiquitously on sale as a benchmark for pricing.

We know that ebook uptake, as measured in sales or their percentage of publishers’ revenues, has doubled or more than doubled every year since 2007.

We know that rate of growth is mathematically prevented from continuing for even three more years (because it would put ebooks at 160% of publishers’ revenues if it did!)

We know from announcements about new devices and a recent Harris poll predicting increased device purchasing that there are no expectations for a slowdown in ebook adoption anytime soon.

We don’t know if we’re going to find a barrier of resistance, or perhaps we should call it the barrier of “paper-insistence”, at some sales level over the next two years (at the end of which ebooks would be 80% of publishers’ revenues at the growth rates we’ve seen over the past four years).

We know there’s a big and developing market for English language ebooks globally, as the ebook infrastructure builds out in markets around the world.

We don’t know how quickly those markets will develop or how big they can ultimately become.

We know that the number of bookstores suffered a sharp reduction in 2011 because of the Borders bankruptcy.

We don’t know if the remaining brick retail network, the bookstores led by B&N and including the independents as well as the shelf space devoted to books by the mass merchants, will get a second wind from the disappearance of the Borders competition, buying publishers some temporary stability in their store network, or if the erosion of shelf space will continue (or even accelerate).

We don’t know what the loss of brick store merchandising will mean to the ability of publishers and authors to introduce new talent to readers, or even just to introduce a new work by established talent.

We don’t know if improved book discovery and merchandising is amenable to the application of “scale” by publishers outside of vertical niches, be they topics or genres.

We know that agents and authors will accept an ebook royalty of 25% of net receipts in today’s environment, where 70% or more of the sales are still made in print.

We don’t know if the threat of the alternative publishing options will force that royalty rate up if sales fall below 50% print or 30% print.

We don’t know if sales falling below 50% print or 30% print is several years away or much less.

We know that the Epub 3 standard and HTML5 enable app-like features to be delivered as ebooks.

We don’t know if those features will make any commercial difference for the straight text content which is the only commercially-proven ebook type.

We know that content-creating brands that are not book publishers are using the relative ease of publication of ebooks to deliver their own content to the ebook marketplace.

We don’t know if book publishers will develop an ebook publishing expertise that will make them able to persuade those brands in time to go through them, the way they have in the print book world, rather than disintermediating them.

Since I have been expressing my concerns about the impact of the ebook revolution on general trade publishing, which I have been doing with dramatic intent since six months before the Kindle at the BEA in 2007, I have been saying the general trade houses have to get audience-centric (which means choosing content to fit vertical niches).

Today I will add another urgent suggestion to general trade publishers: reconsider your commitments to publish illustrated books in any time frame more extended than a year or two and think about sticking to straight text, unless you have paths to the customers for those books that do not go through bookstores. If we do end up in an 80% ebook world anytime soon, and we very well might, you’ll want to own the content you know works (for the consumer) in that format, not what you don’t know works any way other than in print.

For children’s books, the key is brand. There will be demand for Eloise and Madeline and Alice in Wonderland for years to come, but the product and pricing equations could be totally up for grabs.

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As the shift from a print-centric book world to a digital one accelerates, more and more digital publishers are creating themselves.

The biggest publishers, with the resources of sophisticated IT departments to guide them, have been in the game for years now and paying serious attention since the Kindle was launched by Amazon late in 2007. But as the market has grown, so has the ecosystem. And while three years ago it was possible to reach the lion’s share of the ebook market through one retailer, Amazon, on a device that really could only handle books of straight narrative text, we now have a dizzying array of options to reach the consumer on a variety of devices and with product packages that are as complicated as you want to make them.

Free or very inexpensive service offerings through web interfaces suggest to every publisher of any size, every literary agent, and every aspiring author “you can do this” and, the implication is, “effectively and without too much help”. Indeed, services like Amazon’s KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing) service, Barnes & Noble’s PubIt!, and service providers Smashwords and BookBaby, offer the possibility of creating an ebook from your document and distributing it through most ebook retailers, enabled for almost all devices, for almost no cash commitment.

Is it really that simple? One suspects not, since literary agencies are creating ebook publishers (for example: The Scott Waxman Agency’s Diversion) and baskets of services (for example: The Knight Agency in Atlanta) and consulting to help their authors. And a bit further upstream, ebook distribution companies (for example: MintRight) and ebook-first publishers (for examples: Open Road, Rosetta, and the granddaddy of them all, Richard Curtis’s e-Reads) are creating more alternatives, sometimes propositions explicitly addressed to the agents. If publishing ebooks to all channels were really a simple matter of uploading a file, it would hardly seem necessary to build all this infrastructure.

We know that small publishers, literary agents, and authors are becoming publishers at an astounding rate. Two years ago when I was trying to organize a panel of literary agents to talk about working with authors on a charge-for-services basis instead of a share-the-royalties basis, it was hard to get volunteers to discuss new models. Two weeks ago, a major agent outside New York said to me, “we all have to think about it now; we have no choice.”

In short, it isn’t just the big publishers who are compelled to develop a digital strategy to adjust their businesses to changing times. Their smaller competitors, the agents they depend on to deliver their content, and even the authors that have always just depended on the publishers to handle the business of getting a book from a manuscript to a purchase, are all assessing the new landscape. They are considering what new approaches might reduce or eliminate their need for a publisher, or at least reduce the publisher’s share of the take.

Although the correct strategy for any entity would depend on the factors that prevail in each case, there are things it would seem that everybody entering this arena needs to know and understand.

First of all, what are all the things publishers do to get from manuscript to sale, are all the steps necessary, and what do they cost? Developmental editing, copy-editing, mark-up for design, creating metadata: these are all things publishers do routinely. Are they critical for every book? Would a purchaser-reader notice if a publishing newbie left any of them out? Will the services that promise to make and distribute an ebook without a cash investment do these things well?

The ebooks themselves have gotten increasingly complicated. The ebook standard epub (used for just about every ebook not intended for the Kindle ecosystem) has risen to the challenge posed by apps to be able to accommodate color and video and audio and software elements. Everybody who knows that “you get what you pay for” expects complicated ebooks to take more effort and money to create than ebooks of straight narrative text. But what constitutes “complex”? And how much more money does that additional effort cost the publisher that wants to deliver an ebook more complicated than just simple text?

Marketing ebooks also requires a whole new set of knowledge and skills. The key to all ebook marketing is the accompanying metadata: coding that travels along with the file specifying its core bibliographic information and price, but which can also tell a retailer or a search engine much more than that. Search engine optimization (SEO) is the art of delivering metadata that makes the book more likely to be found in response to various searches and queries; that’s yet another set of understandings new ebook publishers have to acquire.

That is just the beginning of what is possible (and therefore necessary) in ebook marketing. Sample chapters can be given away. Web sites can be invoked as partners.

And authors and publishers can, and therefore must, engage in “social network marketing”: using Twitter and Facebook and commenting in high-profile streams to catch attention and gain credibility with core audiences for the books. This is more knowledge to acquire.

Any new publisher will need to understand the paths to market. Yes, Amazon gets more than half of the US ebook sales and Barnes & Noble gets half of the rest. But it isn’t that way on every book, ignoring the others leaves a big chunk of the market unexploited, and things are changing quickly. Amazon’s market share has dropped by a huge percentage in the past two years.) OverDrive is the primary path to libraries. Ingram aggregates many independent stores. Baker & Taylor is opening up markets among mass merchants. Kobo is as important in Canada as B&N is in the US and works in markets all over the world. Google has the ebook ecosystem making the most serious penetration of independent book retailers. Sony is about to introduce new devices that could increase their importance. And Apple is doing its best to dominate sales to its own device holders, who constitute a large wedge of the ebook customer pie.

One can go to all of these channels directly but there are also a slew of services to handle what is the increasingly complex job of delivering to and administering the multiple channels. Perseus Constellation, Ingram Digital, INscribe Digital, LibreDigital (just bought by Donnelley), and Bookmasters as well as the automated services like Smashwords, BookBaby, and MintRight we mentioned above, and others offer service packages to do that and to help with the creation and marketing needs as well.

As we said at the top, nowhere is the change in publishing greater than in the agent community. What has been a stable business model for generations is now, suddenly, changing. There seem to be as many new models and approaches as there are literary agencies. That adds another thing that all of the fledging epublishers — some of which are agents, others being small publishers and authors — need to know about and understand. The relationships among authors, agents, and publishers are getting much more complicated and everybody needs to spend some time thinking that through and discussing what it means.

If all this strikes you as a set of topics worthy of a day’s discussion, we’re in agreement. We think it is too. And that’s why our new Publishers Launch Conferences partnership with Michael Cader is delivering a day-long event called “eBooks for Everyone Else” in New York (in conjunction with The Center for Publishing at New York University’s School of Continuing and Professional Studies) on Monday, September 26 and in San Francisco (co-located with F+W Media’s new StoryWorld conference) on Wednesday, November 2.

Not only do we have an expert-packed lineup to deliver the information, we’ve carved out time for our attendees to get their own specific questions answered by the experts and by the providers of many of the services that are part of the new ecosystem. If the business of ebook publishing is part of your future strategy, you’re bound to get the knowledge and make the connections you need at eBooks for Everyone Else.

Among the leading service providers who will participate in eBooks for Everyone Else in New York and be available for “speed-dating” conversations with attendees are our global sponsors Copyright Clearance Center, Constellation, and Bowker, as well as supporting sponsors Ingram Content Group, INscribe Digital, B&N’s PubIt!, Kobo, and BookBaby. (Kobo and PubIt! will be speaking from the main stage as well.)

Our New York show features an all-star lineup of literary agents including Jane Dystel, Robert Gottlieb, Sloan Harris, and Scott Waxman. We have a distinguished group of publishing veterans — including Jack Perry and David Wilk, Smashwords founder Mark Coker, Renee Register, Iris Blasi, Rich Fahle, Ron Martinez, and Joshua Tallent — who will present advice and insight to help you develop a comprehensive ebook strategy. Most of them will be available at the breaks and alongside the speed-dating sessions to lead small group discussions and answer your questions about creating, marketing, and distributing your ebooks. (The San Francisco roster is slightly different, but just as powerful.)

Michael Cader and I will be moderating all the day’s activities, asking questions, and helping to put an enormous volume of facts into a strategic context for an audience with a staggering array of choices as to how to proceed with ebook publishing.

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OK, now we know another new paradigm for book publishing in the digital age with the announcement of self-publishing author John Locke’s new deal for print distribution with Simon & Schuster.

The big publishers have said for a while now that they won’t be signing up books for print rights only. That makes sense, up to a point.

It is logical that with print declining and digital sales rising, publishers don’t want to be investing in an author only to control the getting-smaller part of the sales. We’re in this moment when print sales are still vitally important but less so every day. Ebooks don’t require the same organizational scale as distributed print, so authors legitimately feel that they can get the substantial part of that sale without giving up the 75% of the ebook royalties big publishers demand as the price to gain access to the print distribution capability that makes real use of big publisher scale.

But there are limits to the publishers’ logic to walk away from print-only deals. Publishers also have the challenge of feeding the big organization they’ve built to deliver print to its shrinking marketplace. It is hard to ignore sales volume you need to support expensive operations.

The first crack in the wall of “we don’t do print-only” was Houghton Harcourt’s deal with Amazon to publish the print edition of some titles originated by Amazon imprints. Houghton made the point that although it might look like what they were doing was a print-only deal, it really broke no precedents. They pointed out, accurately, that when a publisher acquires paperback rights to a book another house did in hardcover (the most common sort of licensing deal 30 or 40 years ago but not so common now), the ebook rights would stay with the originating publisher. That, they said, was all that was happening in this case.

As a fan of Locke’s Donovan Creed books (I just finished reading another one yesterday!), I had already done some analysis and written that I thought he was leaving a lot of money on the table working exclusively on the ebook side. (I ignored a deal he had with “Telemachus Press” to do print of his books because I figured they’d hardly sell any; the deal announced today would tend to confirm that assumption.)

Although the details of the Locke deal with Simon & Schuster haven’t been revealed, it is characterized as a distribution deal. Strictly speaking, that would make Locke himself the publisher and the party responsible for the cost of inventory. S&S would warehouse that inventory and handle all the mechanics of distribution, including billing and collecting. Then they would remit the larger portion — probably more than 70% and less than 80% — of the revenue they receive to Locke.

How profitable Locke’s print sales will be for him depend on his costs for print (which are in turn a function of how well he and Simon & Schuster match what is printed and distributed to the demand for his books), the retail price he sets, and, of course, the numbers he can sell.

There is another way Locke will profit. The increased awareness of his books that he’ll gain by having them in stores should generate more ebook sales and he presumably doesn’t share those with his print distributor.

There have been a number of signs this year that the publishing world is changing dramatically.

In March we had Barry Eisler, who had sold many books through conventional deals with major publishers, decline a six-figure deal with a major house. At first, Eisler was going to self-publish, but then he decided to take a (presumably) six-figure deal to be published by Amazon instead.

Amanda Hocking, who had started (like Locke) as a startlingly successful self-publishing author, accepted a deal with a major house to continue her career, pretty much the opposite of Eisler’s originally-intended path (although closer to what he actually did in the end).

Then J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series, announced she was creating her own online destination, Pottermore, to deliver ebooks. Rowling is apparently not just disintermediating her publisher from her ebook sales; she’s leaving out many of the online retail channels as well.

Last week we had the news that superstar non-fiction author Tim Ferriss became the first truly marquee signing for Amazon’s own publishing efforts.

And now we have Locke entirely self-publishing, but working through a major house to get his printed material into the supply chain.

When we discussed Eisler’s original decision, we talked about the fact that self-publishing left the substantial revenues from print untapped. The Hocking and Ferriss deals are similar, even though hers is with a traditional publisher and his is with Amazon. They are both pursuing what they think will be the most lucrative alternative for them, choosing from among options by which they get paid and somebody else does all the non-writing parts of the work.

Rowling’s initiative and Locke’s are both real self-publishing plays. I am skeptical that Pottermore is worth tracking as a commercial example by any but a small handful of wildly successful authors. It’s an anomaly in many ways. Harry Potter to publishing in the past decade is like the Beatles to music in the 1960s; nothing else comes close to its level of commercial success. What Rowling is doing might work just fine (although I have my doubts that it will reach more readers than if she used more conventional means, she might make more money and she might build a platform for other opportunities), but that doesn’t mean it would work for anybody else.

Locke might be an outlier as well. Nobody else except perhaps Hocking has achieved his level of self-publishing success. And, unlike Hocking, who is a writer who just wants to be a writer and is delighted to have a publisher take over her business responsibilities, Locke is an experienced businessperson who seems to prefer managing his own commercial affairs.

In the Locke deal, though, we can see the outlines of future arrangements by which publishers can reconfigure their dealmaking to adjust to changing times. It isn’t just agents who are changing their business models or offering new services to accommodate the reality of self-publishing fostered by the growing ebook market share (and Locke’s agent, Jane Dystel, is one that has announced that her office is doing just that), publishers will adjust as well.

The model of “self-publishing through a major house ” can be a workable one for all sides if it is restricted to authors whose commercial appeal has already been established. Since all the major houses have distribution deal models, it might not be long before there’s a person at each one assigned to making sure that authors and agents are as well taken care of as “clients” as they were in the past working through their editors.

These deals will morph. For example, does Locke really have to pay the printer, or will S&S cover him on that and just take the costs out of proceeds? If S&S were doing a deal like this for books that hadn’t already been published digitally, would they be able to extract a modest share of ebook sales as compensation for doing the ebook setup? And deals like this could evolve to also include some other costs — like copy-editing or cover creation – being fronted by the publisher, or I guess I should say “the distributor”.

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News of the 7-figure Tim Ferriss deal with Amazon that hit the news this (Wednesday) morning must have leaked out to the press yesterday (Tuesday) because I got a call from a reporter asking for comment on Amazon’s “big new hardcover” book deal. The question confused me yesterday, but seeing the announcement about Ferriss today featuring the hardcover makes it clear what the trigger was for that call.

I’d call this deal both an outlier and a harbinger.

It’s an outlier because Ferriss clearly did it for reasons that weren’t strictly financial. According to The New York Times and Publishers Lunch, Ferriss called Amazon seeking the deal. Ferriss decided he’d rather be with a technology company than a publishing company. Ferriss is excited by the unenumerated opportunities he sees having a publisher that has direct relationships with the ultimate consumers.

To analyze the competition between the big publishers and Amazon, I think we need to think about four components of the deal and the publication.

The first thing on many authors minds is the advance against royalties they can get for signing a contract. This deal is reported as 7-figures. We know that Amazon has deeper pockets than any publisher. So they can compete with advances. Since Crown (a division of Random House) had reportedly paid 7-figures for Ferriss’ last book in 2008, perhaps Amazon offered only a sensible competitive number here. But publishers, all too aware that Amazon competed in the ebook marketplace by selling big titles at a loss, have to be concerned that they might be willing to sign some big authors at a loss as well.

The other components to think about are the main channels of sale for the book. I will stipulate in advance that this is a bit over-simplified but I think simplification here promotes understanding (and unncecessarily complicating things would obscure it).

Ferriss is a non-fiction author. For big non-fiction books today, the largest sales channel is usually print sold in stores. Generalizations are dangerous (and generally wrong), but it would be reasonable to think that Ferriss sells 50% of his books that way. If so, that’s a problem for him with Amazon because store sales of print will be the hardest for Amazon to get. Barnes & Noble recently made clear that they would only consider stocking an Amazon-originated title if they could sell the ebook (Nook) edition as well as the print. Amazon hasn’t stated a policy on that, but, to my knowledge, all the publishing deals they’ve made have required ebook exclusivity for the Kindle.

At our on-stage conversation at the Publishers Launch BEA show, Barry Eisler — who had just done his own book deal with Amazon for a substantial advance — admitted that Kindle exclusivity was the one part of the deal he wasn’t crazy about. More on what that means to ebook sales further down in this post, but it would appear that ebook exclusivity is blocking print store sales at the largest possible outlet. Unless Amazon has some distribution cards up its sleeve that we haven’t seen yet, the loss of brick store print sales (and exposure) would appear to be the biggest negative for Ferriss in doing this deal.

It is likely that Amazon expects to sell a lot of those hardcover books through the next channel to consider, print books sold online. In this case, Amazon has a very high percentage of the total market, perhaps in the 80-to-90 percent range. Given their ability to give a book of theirs exposure and perhaps even using that direct customer knowledge that Ferriss seems so intrigued by, it isn’t unreasonable to think that they can sell more than their fair share of those books. It’s also seems likely (generalizing again) that 25% of Ferriss’s publisher-generated revenue could come from print sold online. Maybe Amazon is paying him a higher royalty than the standard on that as well.

Of course, the main commercial reason for both sides to do this deal is for sales of the ebook, the Kindle edition. On the one hand, Kindle sales are said by publishers I’ve spoken with to have fallen from 90% to 50-60% of the total ebook sale. (Barnes & Noble’s Nook is credited with the lion’s share of the rest.) But the publishers don’t know how much of Kindle’s sale (or Nook’s sale or Kobo’s sale) is consumed on the proprietary device. If I read on a Nook and Kindle has an exclusive on a book, I’m stuck. But if I read Nook books on my iPhone or iPad and Kindle has an exclusive on a book, I can just switch over for that one book without a problem.

That means that some big part of the 40-50% of the ebook market that isn’t Kindle is accessible through the Kindle reader on an iOS or Android device. It’s a guess, but I think a reasonable one (maybe even a very conservative one) to say that 35% of Kindle reading is done on non-Kindle devices. Adding those people in would suggest that the Kindle store has meaningful access to anywhere from 67% to 75% of the total ebook marketplace.

And we’d assume that Ferriss is getting a 70% royalty from Amazon on those sales, four times what he’d get if a publisher gave him 25% of the ebook royalty (because they’d be dividing the same 70%.)

My bottom line on this is that Ferriss would get a sliver of what would be half the business (print in stores). He could well get as little as 10 percent of that potential (or 5% instead of 50% of what would have been his total publisher revenue.) Depending on the royalty structure, he’ll get at least as much and perhaps a bit more on the online revenue piece, so let’s call it 30% instead of what would have been 25% of his total publisher revenue. So on those two pieces, he’d be getting 35% of the former total whole, rather than 75%, or a bit less than half.

But on the ebook side, he’ll get about 4 times the royalty on about 70% of the sales, or 2.8 times as much revenue as he would have gotten from a publisher. If that had been 25% of revenue of the former “whole”, it would be 70% of the former whole now. Added to the 35% he’s getting from what would have been the other 75%, that back-of-the-envelope set of guesses delivers him 105% of what he would have gotten from a publisher, even giving up almost all the print store sales.

And, of course, he has high expectations for what he and Amazon can do together with all that customer knowledge. If he’s right about that, he could do considerably better.

This is sobering math for the big publishers. The numbers would look better for Amazon if we were generalizing about fiction, where the percentage sold as ebooks is somewhat higher. But, more important, the segment of the business where Amazon is disadvantaged — print in stores — is shrinking inexorably as a total of the whole. When we run this same exercise a year from now, the percentage assumptions we’ll be making will be lower for that component and higher for the other two.

So it’s clear why the deal is both an outlier and a harbinger. Giving up the store sale is a difficult thing for any author to do, particularly when the math works out to be so close to breakeven (and we haven’t factored in the marketing impact of books in stores, which is real.) It took an author with a particular personal bent to pursue that choice. But it is a harbinger because the math would appear to be moving in Amazon’s direction. The one way I can see for publishers to improve their chances of looking good in this calculation is to raise their ebook royalty percentage. Of course, there’s no reason that Amazon couldn’t do the same thing.

If you’re going to Frankfurt, you must consider attending one of our Publishers Launch Conferences events there. On Monday, October 10, we’ll present “eBooks Around the World”, which will include lots of original data, talks from every major global ebook retailer, the scoop on the growing importance of collective licensing, documentation of the benefits that a medium-sized publisher got from a digital workflow, an instructive presentation connecting metadata quality and sales results, and (as they say) much, much more.

On Tuesday, October 11, we’ll deliver a half-day event called “Children’s Publishing Goes Digital”, chaired by Lorraine Shanley of Market Partners, which will explore creation, marketing, rights, brand new product types and brand new players in what might be the fastest-changing part of our business.

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Anybody who doesn’t find the publishing business interesting in its time of digital change is simply not paying close enough attention. No matter what story we’re focused on, scratch the surface (or scratch your head) and you find you are pondering something else. This was a week for the press to be asking me (and many others) about the lawsuit against Apple and the publishers surrounding the implementation of agency. I have little expertise to comment on the suit’s legal merits, but a week of thinking about agency has made me (and others) realize implications that hadn’t been evident to us previously.

As I was reviewing my last blog post before publishing it, I had the new thought (referred to in a brief postscript) that Amazon was actually doing the Big Six publishers a favor by denying agency terms to everybody else. Since big authors have a common interest with big publishers in maintaining retail prices for ebooks that don’t undercut print and which deliver a per-copy revenue flow comparable to print, there is reason for a big author to prefer a publisher that has the power to maintain the ebook price across the retail network. Full-fledged agency publishers have that capability; the others do not.

A moment of explanation might be required for any readers who might be lost in the details of the agency, wholesale, and hybrid models of ebook-selling. Agency is the term for “the publisher actually sells the ebooks to the consumer, not the retailer; the retailer gets a cut but cannot change the price from what the publisher has set.” Wholesale is the term for “the publisher sells the ebooks to the retailer, based on the notional retail price set by the publisher; the retailer can then set the consumer price keeping all, part, none, or less than none — selling as a loss-leader — of the margin that the publisher’s discount provided.” And hybrid is the term for “the publisher has to agree to giving Apple a fixed percentage of the selling price; Amazon insists on a wholesale arrangement by which they set the price; therefore, Apple’s standard arrangement by which it can lower prices (and the publisher’s share) to match any other retailer on the web makes the publisher vulnerable to having its revenue from Apple readjusted downwards based on discounts offered by somebody else.”

The short story is that only under a total agency model does the publisher control price. In any other case, the price is effectively controlled by the retailer willing to offer the lowest price. That would be the retailer willing to live with the least margin and, as was amply demonstrated by the discounting that took place before agency came to publishing, that might be a negative margin. Retailers in the US (although not in all countries) can sell below cost if they think it is to their advantage to do so.

All the actors are rational here. Amazon extends agency terms to the Big Six publishers because, after the Macmillan dust-up of January 2010, Amazon has been persuaded that they could lose the ebooks of those publishers from their shop if they don’t. Losing the ebooks from one of the major houses would damage what has been one of Amazon’s main strategic advantages since the Kindle was launched: the widest selection of commercially-attractive ebooks in the marketplace. They take the gamble, which appears to be a winner, that publishers smaller than the Big Six will not want to withhold product from the world’s biggest ebook retailer, the one that still accounts for substantially more than 50% of the ebook sales for many titles.

And, in some cases, publishers have avoided the discomfort of the hybrid model — which requires them to commit to Apple that Apple will have the lowest price on the Web when they can’t actually control everybody else’s price  – by not selling to the iBookstore because Apple won’t buy on wholesale terms. So Amazon yields where they think they must (to the Big Six) and continues to enjoy the advantages of price control with the rest, while at the same time discouraging some publishers from making their titles available through a competitor. This all makes sense to me as I understand their point of view.

What I noticed while writing the last piece is that there is an unintended consequence here for Amazon way upstream from the ebooks sale: the policy is strengthening the Big Six’s already powerful grip on the biggest titles from the biggest authors. Amazon wants to compete for those authors and can offer a better royalty on Amazon sales to entice them (when Amazon pays 70% to the author, the author keeps it all; when they pay 70% to the publisher, the author does not get it all, even if s/he succeeds in negotiating something better than the industry standard of a 25% ebook royalty share.) But Amazon reportedly wants ebook exclusivity, which cuts out a big chunk of the ebook market, and they are seriously handicapped getting a print sale through brick retailers.

(If you want a more thorough explanation of the way ebook revenues get split up, I wrote in detail about ebook royalties under the agency and wholesale models here and here.)

Because print sales in stores still matter (and for as long as they do) there is a risk and a sacrifice for any author giving exclusivity to Amazon, although there are also clearly compensating considerations as well.

At about the same time I was noticing this, my friend Eoin Purcell in Ireland was noticing something else. Apple’s new policy on apps, by which you can’t sell through an app without giving Apple its standard 30% cut, also offers up a sparkling new opportunity to agency publishers that would be accessible only at some risk to any but the Big Six.

The immediate consequence of Apple enforcing this policy of theirs was to drive the direct-to-our-store connection from the Kindle, Nook, Kobo, and Google apps. Because those retailers only get 30% margin from the publishers, they can’t afford to give 30% to Apple for the privilege of in-app selling.

But publishers don’t have that margin problem. They already pay 30% for their sales, and if they put their own apps up with sales enabled through them, they’d only be paying what they already are to a retailer for the privilege. So apps for authors or genres or series of any kind could be offered as free downloads through the App Store with direct-purchase buttons inside. These could send you to the iBookstore, if the right kind of landing environment could be created, or to the publisher’s own landing page where sales commissionable to Apple could be made.

Of course, the same thing could be done as a Nook app in the B&N ecosystem, and it would be smart for the publisher to offer one, as well as a web app that constituted an Amazon version (which wouldn’t be offered through the Apple App Store but would have to get to you another way), to keep relative peace among its customers. But a publisher can only do this if it is sure its prices won’t be undercut, which would force a further margin reduction under Apple’s rules.

Like Eoin, I have no idea whether any of the Big Six publishers are working on this idea or whether any of the major agents have suggested the possibility. But we’re talking about literally hundreds of smart people here, so it would be surprising if nobody’s exploring this possibility (except if Eoin and I are both missing something that makes it a non-starter.)

The transformation of publishing is rich with circumstances to amuse anybody who appreciates irony. Cheaper ebooks, which consumers love, are making bookstores, which consumers also love, gasp for the breath to survive. The closest thing to a monopoly threat in the business, Amazon and Kindle, work to drive consumer prices down. Apple’s great success with new devices coupled with their very slow start at retailing, generates agency pricing and sales opportunities for other retailers that probably benefited Barnes & Noble the most. B&N, the brick retailer most skilled at logistics but only newly-minted as any sort of tech company, finds not one but two unoccupied niches in the eink product suite: color and touch-screen.

And now, Amazon’s policy limiting the publishers that can fully implement agency, designed to isolate the Big Six and enable discounting of everybody else’s ebooks, may be spawning a new opportunity for big authors and big publishers to work together that other publishers can’t compete with. Perhaps denying this capability to other publishers actually helps Amazon be alone as a 7th competitor, but it certainly has its ironic aspects at a moment when Amazon is putting on a full-court press to persuade big authors to work directly with them!

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One very lucky thing for those of us who are in the habit of predicting the future is that very few people keep score on us. We mostly keep score on ourselves. When I want to remind readers of something I said previously, I link back to it and call it forward it again.

But there is one belief I had and stated repeatedly early in the ebook era that was wildly wrong, hopelessly wrong, and then proven clearly to be wrong. I bring it up now because it belongs in this post identifying a more current error, one which hasn’t been proven yet but about which I’ve learned enough to want to walk back.

When I started reading ebooks in about 1999, there were a couple of dedicated ereaders just becoming available: the Rocket Book and the Softbook. Neither of them interested me or very many other people either. Both failed pretty quickly.

Just about simultaneously, ebooks were first being delivered to hand-held devices. I discovered the magic of putting books on my Palm Pilot, a device I had in my pocket all the time. I had started carrying a personal digital assistant in 1986; that was a Psion Organiser with a 2-, then a 4-line screen, which would not have worked for ebooks. But the Palm, which could carry a chunk not so different in extent from what I see now on my iPhone, worked fine.

The original dedicated devices came and went without much notice from anybody. Meanwhile, I continued to read on my Palm and its successors. The shopping experience at Palm Digital was terrible, the choice of titles was extremely limited, and the ebooks cost just about as much as the print books. But I shifted over, as much as I could, because I was hooked both on the utter convenience of always having books in my pocket and because I genuinely found it preferable to read on something so small and light and have book reading, for the first time, totally manageable with one hand.

When the Sony Reader arrived and didn’t do much, I wasn’t surprised. Sometime before it debuted, I wrote or said somewhere that if you carried a personal digital assistant, nobody should have to explain the value of ebooks to you. And if you didn’t carry a personal digital assistant, they might not actually have any value for you. At that point, most ebooks purchased were read on laptop and desktop computers.

That’s why I was pretty sure the Kindle wouldn’t work. Who wanted another device to carry around just to read books, I figured? What’s the advantage in that?

I neglected to think through that people do things for lots of different reasons. And I really underestimated the degree to which the book-sized page is a requirement for a lot of people, even though it might be a transitional one. Anyhow, I was really, really, really wrong. And even though I switched back from Kindle to iPhone reading the minute the vast selection available through Kindle (and now through Nook, Kobo, Google, and Apple) was available to me on the device I was always carrying, I fully accept that most people are willing to carry something around to do their reading on a regular-sized page. Lesson learned.

It is now clear to me that another concept that was an important part of my future view is in pretty desperate need of reassessment. It also appears to be being proved wrong.

It was evident pretty early that the Net facilitated the formation of communities around interests. Putting that together with my thinking about the distinction between the unit of sale and the unit of appreciation (shortcut to understanding: the former is the album and the latter is the song; the former is the cookbook and the latter is the recipe) made me think that the big online aggregation of content for sale would also ultimately be challenged. If you went to a web community to get advice about how to build a deck or plant a vegetable garden, I figured, you’d just pick up whatever were your content purchases — books or whatever else, physical or virtual — from that same site. You wouldn’t need a separate site to go buy content from.

In other words, I expected one of the ways to monetize a community would be that you could sell it stuff, particularly content.

Although I know that O’Reilly operates in a special marketplace, I saw the success they have had selling directly to their community — both their own publications and their subscription aggregation Safari — as a sign of what we could expect to develop in other verticals.

I don’t think so anymore.

The first rude awakening for me was when OpenSky changed its business model. OpenSky began with the proposition that they would facilitate just about any web site to sell just about anything. As I understood it, if you had a blog about cooking, you could arrange to sell your favorite pots and pans right off your own site. OpenSky would source the product and operate the back end. You’d just have to pick out what you wanted and decide how much margin you could demand.

Well, apparently that business model just didn’t work. They’ve switched OpenSky from a commerce platform for bloggers to a “social network for shopping” with celebrity, expert, and author curators. I’m not much of a shopper, online or offline, so I’m not one to judge how appealing it might be compared to competition. There is some evidence that the new model works and OpenSky feels like they are now taking off. But it isn’t any longer the perfect match for the vision that I had when I first saw it, and it probably didn’t work because my vision was wrong.

By extension, I had been figuring that publishers needed to sell direct as well. Big publishers had good reasons to resist that idea which I understood, but which in themselves make me question the idea. Big trade houses are highly dependent on the goodwill of Amazon and Barnes & Noble as well as other retailers, and going into competition with your key channels is risky and problematical. And my vision of the future wasn’t really built around general publishers, anyway.

This month, J.K. Rowling opened her Pottermore site, which is intended to be the exclusive vendor of Harry Potter ebooks. Now, there’s a vertical. It appears you won’t be able to get them at Amazon, B&N, or Google (although Google checkout is “the preferred third party payment platform”); if you want them, you’ll buy them from the Pottermore site (or, as some would point out, get them from a pirate source if that’s easier.) In a ‘d’uh” moment, I read this piece making it clear that this kind of fragmentation didn’t work for musicians and ultimately wouldn’t work for authors. (The book business isn’t the music business, but some lessons do carry over.)

So mark me much less bullish on publishers selling direct than I used to be. It can add value and margin to a vertical site if the costs of running the store can be tightly managed, but it is not likely to produce much in sales very quickly.

In fact, I’m quite sure that fewer Harry Potter ebooks will be sold by the Pottermore strategy than if they were just made available through the standing ebook retail network. The margins might be higher with no retailer to pay, assuming that advantage isn’t completely swallowed up by their own costs of infrastructure (and it probably won’t be.) But not everybody who buys a Harry Potter book from Amazon or B&N (or a Nora Roberts book or a Janet Evanovich book or a James Patterson book) is a devoted fan. Some of them are just choosing their next read and if Roberts or Evanovich or Patterson wasn’t shown to them, they would have bought something else on offer.

There is evidence out there to contravene this post and confirm my original thesis. Our friends at F+W Media, with whom we deliver the annual Digital Book World conference, report success building their retailing business through their communities. A senior executive there tells me they are selling “tens of millions” in content, product, and services through 25 stores attached to the community sites they have developed over the past few years. They achieve an average order value of $40 — not too shabby — and credit a combination of true community focus which builds them large and powerful databases of names, unique curation that includes offering things that aren’t available elsewhere, selling content in multiple forms (book-like, video, webcasts), delivery of “online learning”, and special bundled packages for their success.

F+W is not unique. A smaller company that is their competitor in some spaces, Interweave, also has a community focus and sells direct. Both companies have the content to build a number of different verticals to amortize the cost of a common merchandising and retailing platform.I don’t doubt F+W when they say they’re making it work, and apparently Interweave is too, but that still leaves the question of whether they, like O’Reilly, are sufficiently unusual cases that it would be very hard for other publishers to follow their lead.

I still have my fingers crossed that the Google ebooks program could spawn some unique shopping experiences that will make a difference to the ecosystem in the long run. (This is taking powerful faith at the moment because Google has only barely detectable sales in their first half-year of operation.) By offering the opportunity for curation with personality to be done by a large number of different entities (about 300 bookstores have already started with the program in the US), the Google initiative still offers the possibility of a wide variety of curation choices, or bookstore front ends.

Of course, none of these individual Google ebook stores will have the resources of the big retail players to apply technology to their merchandising. But perhaps they can provide selection and positioning that will create its own following. Whether they apply what they know and their own unique intellectual resource base (because every bookstore has one) to highly local subjects or other verticals with global appeal, they have the opportunity to create online stores that at least some people will prefer to shop. Thousands of such entrepreneurs around the globe might produce hundreds — or dozens — of survivors with large enough customer bases to create the kind of diversity in the ebook retail network that would offer publishers the kind of opportunity they need to add value for a long time. And to do it the way they always have, by managing intermediary opportunities, not by selling direct.

This is not to suggest that publishers don’t need to be building direct contact with as many consumers as they can. Just as authors should do. But forget the idea of a huge number of vertical purchase points for ebooks all over the net. I will.

Google also announced an affiliate program for Google ebooks. That will enable any web site to sell their ebooks and get paid, extending a concept that both Amazon and Barnes & Noble have employed successfully for print books. It looks to us like Google pays more. An affiliate can earn 6-10% from Google, 6% from B&N, and 4-8.5% from Amazon.

This isn’t the original OpenSky vision, however, because that was about all kinds of products, not particularly (or even necessarily including) books or ebooks. Of course sourcing could always have been done through Amazon, but there were differences in the merchandising and pricing opportunities in the original OpenSky model.

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