Barnes & Noble

Notes from a lecture by Professor Cader


Michael Cader did a brilliant analysis of Thursday’s New York Times piece on ebook pricing, published exclusively for paid subscribers to Publishers Lunch. The Times piece’s shortcoming was that it tended to sensationalize the news that the prices the public will pay for current brand-name ebooks will be going up. If you observe the book business for fun, you can perhaps afford not to have access to content like Michael’s analysis. But if you’re in it for a living and you want to seriously keep up with what’s going on, I suggest you save $20 somehow on other publications each month and reinvest it in a Publishers Marketplace membership. I am not the only blogger moved to make this suggestion by this piece.

I am working under the rash assumption that Cader will not sue me for quoting his remarks without regard to fair use limitations (particularly after the commercial in that first paragraph.) Of course, I do my best to add some Shatzkin Files value to my quotes and paraphrases as well.

Michael’s overall point, as I read it (and these are my words, not his): “we in the business know what’s going on with ebook pricing; apparently reporters outside the business do not. And therefore a great deal of misunderstanding is circulated among the book-buying public and it behooves the trade publishing community to get the word out to make sure that the public understands what’s really behind what they pay for ebooks.”

His device to illustrate this point is to describe some common misunderstandings fostered by the Times piece — all of which are real misunderstandings and none of which are just convenient straw horses — and knock them down.

Frankly, it is only the overall point on which I’m not sure I agree. I am not convinced it makes much difference whether we push the “truth” out or not. Amazon’s recent “concession” statement over the Macmillan dust-up tried to channel potential consumer anger at Macmillan and away from them. That’s an effort that is bound to fail. Everybody who buys from Amazon knows that they’re buying from Amazon. On the other hand, “Macmillan” is not an active book imprint at the moment in the United States. The books the corporation called Macmillan puts out are under the imprints St. Martin’s, Farrar Straus, and Holt, and their subsidiary imprints. My wife found the Macmillan Dictionary for Children online and that book is published by Simon & Schuster! So good luck to Amazon trying to get the consumer to punish a corporate entity whose name isn’t on the cover of its books.

But the myths Cader describes are ubiquitous misunderstandings and they were clearly promoted in the Times piece. As Michael describes them (in italics):

* $9.99 never was the top e-book price; people pay more than that every day.

The Times piece makes a big deal out of consumer expectations of the $9.99 price. Cader points out that recent data from the ebook retailer Kobo described at Digital Book World — which shows that at Kobo they sell as many books for more than $9.99 as they do for exactly $9.99 — and Amazon’s own data undercut that notion. Cader says surveys of Amazon data have shown that 30% of the SKUs are priced higher than $9.99.

I have been told directly by a responsible person at Amazon that 4% of the titles they sell are deep-discounted to $9.99 and those represent 25% of the total sales. Of the other 75% of the sales, many (most) are less than $9.99 without necessarily deep-discounting, according to Cader, 30% are more. I have personally bought many Kindle books for more than $9.99 and some for more than $14.99.

But what I’d see as the biggest fallacy in this whole “customer expectations” meme was not mentioned by Cader. So far we have a relatively small percentage of book readers who have ever purchased an ebook at all! General consumer expectations can not be set by a sliver of the group who are early adapters. In fact, publishers are being smart precisely because they are tackling this consumer pricing problem before the market really does become general and a large population of book readers do have experience with the current price structure.

* The implicit, false promise of cheap e-books was made by the people who profit, at very nice margins, from selling the devices, not from publishers.

This is true for the $9.99 books offered by Amazon and Sony and, now, Barnes & Noble. Other etailers, like Kobo or B&N before the Nook, were offering that same price to keep up with (keep down with?) Amazon. But the central point is right. Amazon created the expectation of $9.99 pricing to sell readers; publishers didn’t create it to sell books!

The two companies most likely to save publishers from an Amazon stranglehold on their future general readership, Apple and Google, would also place “margin from ebook sales” very low on their list of objectives for participation in the ebook supply chain.

If the market really could stabilize with three or more reliable paths to the general ebook consumer, with price competition among the content,  but not price-competition driven by external forces, it would be one of the most important strategic accomplishments of the current generation of publishing management, to whatever degree their policies enabled it to happen.

* Brand-new ebooks sold at $9.99 are generally sold at a loss by the retailer.

And, as Cader goes on to point out, this is led by a retailer with a $50 billion market cap with an implicit expectation that it will drive smaller retailers out of the game. Publishers are taking the steps they are explicitly to encourage a more diverse marketplace. So, Mr. and Ms. Consumer, whose side are you on?

* People who can afford an ereading device can afford all proposed ebook prices.

Cader is making the point that conscientious reporters should make put price complaints into context. I’d personally dwell more on the “dog bites man” aspect of reporting that people favor lower prices. Has anybody ever found a consumer who favored higher prices? Has anybody ever found anybody who would prefer to pay more for anything they buy? From here it would seem that all reports of what people say they want to pay or say they would pay in some hypothetical circumstances are pretty much meaningless. Michael says “put them in context.” I really wonder whether this kind of senselessly speculative commentary ought to be reported at all!

* Publishers are lowering [my emphasis] their ebook prices.

Cader captures the massive irony of what is going on here with this one. From reading this piece or from reading Amazon’s note to Macmillan, you’d get the impression that “greedy” publishers are “raising” ebook prices. That’s not actually the case. The publishers going to the Agency model are actually reducing their price per unit sold; they’re just insisting that booksellers not sell those books as loss leaders. As Cader put it, “we in the trade know that publishers are preparing to lower their ebook prices by 50 percent or more, and reduce their own profit margins. But customers don’t; they hear that publishers are raising prices.”

* The new “top price” is going to be $12.99 more often than not.

The public reporting is that the Agency-priced books from Apple will be $12.99 and $14.99, with no additional detail. Cader seems to know that most, or at least a large number, of those books will be at the lower of those two prices. Undoubtedly, some people will refuse a book they want to read on a device they paid over $200 for because of a $5 difference in price ($14.99) from their prior expectation ($9.99). But somewhat fewer will be reluctant at $12.99, which is where the price will apparently be a great deal of the time. Certainly, nobody writing for a newspaper knows the future balance between those two price points.

* Surveys show many people will pay more than $9.99 for ebooks.

Cader points out (and my personal repeated experience confirms) that people often do pay more than $9.99 now, even according to the stats we’ve seen. But what he doesn’t point out, so I will, is that those stats are stacked!  Amazon prices all the hottest and most desireable books at $9.99, and therefore so does Kobo and other Amazon competitors. So the clustering of consumer purchasing around that price is largely driven by the appeal of the product at that price point.

That is: people bought the book, not the price!

* Goldman Sachs says ebook prices are not the biggest factor in purchasing a device–but expensive devices are an obstacle.

This is from a survey that Cader has seen and I have not. But the point is that portability is the main benefit consumers see in ebook devices, with price running second and ease of purchase nearly even with price as a perceived benefit. Ebook purchase decisions are not made on price alone.

What this data also would tell us is that ebook reading is going to spread because the price of devices is coming down and the circulation of ebook-able devices, smartphones and iPads, is increasing regardless of dedicated reader prices.

* Publishers have rewarded and honored early ereader adopters with a lot of free book giveaways, and some very inexpensive price promotions.

Much has been made in other places (not in the Times piece and not in Cader’s report) of the fact that the Kindle “bestseller list” contains a lot of free or almost-free books. Some of those are public domain titles, but many are not. Those that aren’t are provided by publishers as promotions, usually an offer of an older book by a multi-title author who has a new one just out. Does any retailer billboard the publishers who “have made books available for you for free?” Not that I’ve ever seen.

I do believe that the price of content will be driven down over time because of the laws of supply and demand. The amount of content being made available every day is staggering. However, the established publishing companies still have pretty much a monopoly position on curating and branding it. Curating and branding save consumers an enormous amount of time and effort; that’s why they are willing to pay for them. Publishers and the authors whose brands they are enhancing and maxmizing are operating in an increasingly competitive world, but they are both totally sensible and totally unremarkable in trying to maximize the rewards for their efforts.


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Why are you for killing bookstores?


No news from here today; just rumination.

Those of us in the book business have to choose which anti-social position we want to take.

Some people are for the most rapid possible adoption of ebooks. They can be cheaper. They don’t require paper which pollutes when you create it and adds carbon footprint every time you ship it around. They have much greater functionality, or at least the potential for it. They enable business models that don’t require capital-intensive infrastructure.

But have you thought about this? If you are for the most rapid possible adoption of ebooks, you are for killing bookstores faster.

Although there are probably few people reading this blog who expect bookstores to be around in 15 or 20 years (and those who do will undoubtedly leave a comment!), there are many who would like to keep them around as long as possible. There is a magic to being in a building surrounded by 40,000, 60,000, 100,000 different books. Bookstores are inherently community centers. They make possible the wide dissemination and promotion of great writing. They enable people to see heavily-illustrated books before they purchase them.

But have you thought about this? If you are for bookstores lasting as long as possible, you want to slow down the uptake of ebooks.

As individuals, which side you’re on is a matter of personal preference. Although I have mostly read ebooks for more than 10 years and haven’t read a printed book in two years, I am for bookstores lasting as long as possible. It’s a “health of society”and a “health of my industry” question for me. I think both will be much poorer when bookstores go away.

My societal preference isn’t enough to motivate a self-indulgent guy like me to inconvenience myself, so I read electronically, not on paper. But it does not distress me to remain part of a small minority. It helps keep bookstores alive.

Individuals decide this question on personal preference; businesses think about competitive advantage.

Barnes & Noble and the biggest legacy publishers clearly have an interest in slowing down ebook uptake. Even though B&N and the big publishers are now in the ebook business, their competitive advantage exists heavily on the print side. They recognize that they have to live in the ebook world to serve the authors and customers they’ve had for years, so they do. But I don’t think a single big player in legacy publishing could give you a convincing description of how they maintain their scale and power when digital becomes the rule and print the exception. Can that day possibly be more than 20 years away? Might it be 10? I know a man that will take a bet that it will be five.

Apple and Kobo and Google and a slew of new players clearly have an interest in accelerating the growth of the ebook business because that’s the only part of the book business they’re in.

Amazon sells mostly print, but they sell print online. As sales migrate from print to electronic, it is still good for the print business at Amazon. Reducing print sales drives bookstores out of business, one by one. They go out because their sales went down 10% or 20% or 30%. But the remaining 70% or 80% or 90% of their print book business is demand to be redistributed. When a store disappears, some of those sales migrate to online purchases. And most of that moves to Amazon.

And, as we observed on this blog nearly a year ago, Amazon’s position as an online print retailer would be much harder to dislodge than their position as a leading ebook retailer (particularly with a major weapon — discount pricing on hot new titles — apparently being taken out of their hands by Agency pricing.)

Even though I believe that ebook hegemony will be harder for Amazon to defend than their dominance of online print, their strategy of pushing the move to digital reading has paid big dividends so far. Amazon delivered the Kindle, which was the first really great catalyst to move people from print to digital. (The iPhone was probably the second.) It is clear that Amazon gained an enormous first mover advantage by doing that and succeeded in converting a large number of their best book-buying customers to digital.

Both Barnes & Noble and Borders have suffered same-store sales declines for the past two years. Lots of those Kindle owners might have stopped buying some of their books in stores because they switched to electronic reading. They’re locked in to buying from Amazon until either there’s another way to put books on their Kindle or they move on to another device. Amazon created high switching costs for many of the best bookstore customers in the country. So they now own business they used to compete for and, at the same time, diminish their brick-and-mortar competition driving more print book business to the web.

The big legacy publishers’ greatest strength is their unique ability to handle print book distribution. There really are only a handful of companies in this country (the Big Six plus a few distributors and a tiny number of other publishers) that can put a book into every brick-and-mortar outlet where a customer might buy one. Doing that requires capabilities and relationships that you either have now or never will.

Although the big publishers and big authors have been allies fighting Amazon’s selling policies because they want to preserve print-driven book pricing, in the longer run their interests diverge. As ebook sales keep rising as a percentage of the total, the big publishers’ position weakens and the big authors’ position strengthens.

The book business has always been one with very low financial barriers to entry. Ebook publishing makes getting into the game even cheaper. It is also going to bring increased competition to book publishers from content-creators outside publishing. None of this is appealing if your power as a publisher is the ability to control shelf space and get fast reprints.I don’t think anybody would want to be accused of being in favor of killing bookstores faster. And very few of us would be comfortable having it said we were trying to slow down the progress of digital technology, strategizing to slow down ebook uptake. But you are for one or the other, unless you don’t have any opinion at all.

Those of us in the book business have to choose which anti-social position we want to take.
Some people are for the most rapid possible adoption of ebooks. They can be cheaper. They don’t require paper which pollutes when you create it and adds carbon footprint every time you ship it around. They have much greater functionality, or at least the potential for it. They enable business models that don’t require capital-intensive infrastructure.
But have you thought about this? If you are for the most rapid possible adoption of ebooks, you are for killing bookstores faster.
Although there are probably few people reading this blog who expect bookstores to be around in 15 or 20 years, there are many who would like to keep them around as long as possible. There is a magic to being in a building surrounded by 40,000, 60,000, 100,000 different books. Bookstores are inherently community centers. They make possible the wide dissemination and promotion of great writing. They enable people to see heavily-illustrated books before they purchase them.
But have you thought about this? If you are for bookstores lasting as long as possible, you want to slow down the uptake of ebooks.
As individuals, which side you’re on is a matter of personal preference. Although I have mostly read ebooks for more than 10 years and haven’t read a printed book in two years, I am for bookstores lasting as long as possible. It’s a “health of society”and a “health of my industry” question to me. I think both will be much poorer when bookstores go away.
My preference doesn’t extend to personally inconveniencing myself, so I read electronically, not on paper. But it does not distress me to remain part of a small minority. It keeps bookstores alive.
On the other hand, many businesses have a vested stake in this question.
Barnes & Noble and the biggest legacy publishers clearly have an interest in slowing down ebook uptake. Even though B&N and the big publishers are now in the ebook business, their competitive advantage exists heavily on the print side.
Apple and Kobo and Google and a slew of new players clearly have an interest in accelerating the growth of the ebook business because that’s the only part of the book business they’re in.
Amazon sells print, but they sell print online. As sales migrate from print to electronic, it is a double-edged sword for Amazon. Reducing print sales drives bookstores out of business, one by one. They go out because their sales went down 10% or 20% or 30%. But the remaining 70% or 80% or 90% of their business remains in print. When a store disappears, some of those sales move to online purchases. And most of that moves to Amazon.
And, as we observed on this blog nearly a year ago, Amazon’s position as an online print retailer would be much harder to dislodge than their position as a leading ebook retailer (particularly with a major weapon — discount pricing on hot new titles — apparently being taken out of their hands by Agency pricing.)
Despite our contention that ebook hegemony will be harder for Amazon to defend than their dominance of online print, the evidence is that Amazon has decided that the fastest possible shift to digital is best for them. That’s why they have pushed Kindle so hard. That’s why they have pushed Kindle pricing so hard.
The big legacy publishers’ greatest strength is their unique ability to handle print book distribution. There really are only a handful of companies in this country (the Big Six plus a few distributors and a tiny number of other publishers) that can put a book into every brick-and-mortar outlet where a customer might buy one. Doing that requires capabilities and relationships that you either have now or never will.
Although the big publishers and big authors have been allies fighting Amazon’s selling policies because they want to preserve print-driven book pricing, in the longer run their interests diverge. As ebook sales keep rising as a percentage of the total, the big publishers’ position weakens and the big authors’ position strengthens.
The book business has always been one with very low financial barriers to entry. Ebook publishing makes getting into the game even cheaper. It is also going to bring increased competition to book publishers from content-creators outside publishing.
I don’t think anybody would want to be accused of being in favor of killing bookstores faster. And very few of us would be comfortable having it said we were trying to slow down the progress of digital technology, strategizing to slow down ebook uptake. But you are for one or the other, unless you don’t have any opinion at all.

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New ways to sell ebooks aren’t easy to implement


A simple and perfectly sensible suggestion emerged on the Brantley email list yesterday but the conversation around it showed that some stark realities about the book world have not yet been taken on board, even in very sophisticated circles (which this list is.)

The list discussed a suggestion from librarian Josh Greenberg  that publishers take note of the “rental” model built into the iTunes store as an alternative way to collect money from readers for ebooks.

Greenberg’s piece calls out a fact that many people in publishing have a great deal of difficulty with: that all ebook sales must be licensing deals. They can’t be anything else. Greenberg says:

“When we think about iTunes, we think about a basic fee-for-purchase model. We’ll just leave aside the fact that you never truly “own” a digital file, you’re just buying a particularly-structured license to use it…”

He’s right. When you deal in printed books, you have a tangible object. When you deal in ebooks, you only have “code”. The first sale doctrine says you can re-sell the book or lend it or share it. But copyright law says you can’t re-sell, lend, or share copyrighted “code.” Many digerati (and many librarians not named Josh Greenberg) refuse to acknowledge this distinction.

But that’s a legal point, one that can be debated until a court or a Congress makes a ruling (and then beyond, actually, since we continue to fight battles even after courts or Congress have rendered their conclusion.) The challenge to Greenberg’s idea of switching to a rental model is not so debatable. It’s practical.

Implementing new models for book sales requires herding cats. It can never be done fast and many business ideas relating to content have foundered because it couldn’t be done at all.

What should be clear to anybody who has been following developments since the days a decade or more ago whenRocketbook and Softbook and Sprout were trying to get publishers to give them rights for their content propositions is that it takes a very persuasive sales pitch to get publishers to do so. That sales pitch must be delivered publisher by publisher, and then the impressive ability of publishers to discuss a problem to death takes over, and the new proposition might itself die before its owner gets an answer. Or certainly before its owner gets enough answers to get the new idea off the ground.

What was further made clear by the participation of agents at Digital Book World, and particularly by the opinions expressed by superagent Robert Gottlieb on the ebook “timing” panel, is that the publishers don’t make this decision without consulting with their upstream gatekeepers. Gottlieb made clear that a) it takes a very small number of lost hardcover sales to make an author’s book slip notches on the New York Times Bestseller list, b) he and his authors believe that a much cheaper ebook, or perhaps any ebook at all not reported as a hardcover sale, can make that critical difference between being Number 1 or being much further down the list, and c) the difference in several places on that list is worth losing some sales over.

So just imagine how Gottlieb and his star clients (and all the other agents and star clients) would react to a rental model!

Let’s add one more point before the next great suggestion is made. The same thing will be true of an even better model than rental (which also has plenty of precedent in media even closer to publishers, audio books): subscription sales.

The switch that Apple has made to the “agency model” is not of equivalent complexity from a business perspective. There we’re still “selling the book” (although we’re really licensing access to a file) and the amount of money flowing to the publisher is comparable. But, even there, the switch will not be simple. Publishers have signed contracts governing almost all their ebook sales (which is a further demonstration that this is different from selling physical books, for which signed contracts between publishers and vendors is by far the exception, not the hard and fast rule) which one could imagine the purchasing party (Amazon, Ingram, Content Reserve, Barnes & Noble, Kobo) believes prevents the publisher from changing the rules in the middle of the game.

What Michael Cader reported last week which we expanded on in a blog post and a CNN interview is that publishers can use the new agency model to hold back books from channels where they can’t control the pricing. This very much underreported exchange between Steve Jobs and Walter Mossberg of the Wall Street Journal makes it very clear that Apple expects vendors who would undercut the pricing publishers set for them will be denied access to the content.

We can look forward to continued battles over pricing and over the terms of sale between publishers and the downstream players in the ebook supply chain. But I think it will be a while before real alternative distribution schemes to the public make any appearances. In fact, they’re likely to occur in vertical niches first, where the big agents are less involved and the number of publishers one needs to get on board is something less than “just about all of them.”

A quick thanks to everybody who attended Digital Book World (and there were a lot of you.) I am hoping that the fact that all I’ve heard is praise and enthusiasm for the two day event is not just a result of people being kind to the guy who put the program together. I think we really did generate discussion on some issues that had previously been neglected. But most of all I’m proud of the job we did selecting panelists; everyone I saw presenting was smart, well-prepared and entertaining. Some we had seen in front of audiences before; some we only knew through our interviews in person or on the phone. But picking them carefully and one by one certainly seemed to work and it is the same formula we’ll use putting together Digital Book World 2011. I hope we’ll see everybody again there next year.


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The ebook windowing controversy has subtext


It took me a couple of days of pondering this to come to my current understanding of it, but I now think that Carolyn Reidy of Simon & Schuster and David Young of Hachette Book Group, since joined by Brian Murray of HarperCollins, are not really fighting a battle to rescue hardcover books from price perception issues caused by inexpensive ebooks. What this is really about is wresting control of their ebook destinies back from Amazon.

I first — mistakenly — focused on the economics of the decision announced by Reidy and Young through the Wall Street Journal to withhold ebook editions from the market for a few months on major new releases. I was not the only blogger or analyst to see it that way. The purpose stated explicitly by Reidy to the Wall Street Journal was to protect the hardcover sales from being cannibalized by very inexpensive ebooks. This sounded like a very dubious calculation to me; I just couldn’t see very many people saying to themselves, “I’d have bought the ebook right now if it were available right now, particularly for those cheap ebook prices, but I just can’t wait to read this new book, so I’ll pay extra to read it sooner in a format which isn’t the one I prefer.”

But, reflecting on this, I realized: “I know Carolyn and David are smart people. They wouldn’t flub this math!”

So I thought a little harder. The subtext should have been more obvious.

The penny dropped for me when HarperCollins announced a similar policy. That’s three of the Big Six, three of the publishers that deliver all the high-profile big books to the industry. Publishers Lunch reports today that Macmillan has delayed some books and will continue to look at that strategy, that Penguin might do it from time to time but “not systematically” and, so far, no word from Random House. Random House is particularly interesting since their new key executive decision-maker, Madeline McIntosh, just returned to them from Amazon.

We know something else that matters: agents must, for the most part, be supporting this. The three houses that already announced are (like the others) agent-sensitive and in touch with them all the time. And no agent has stood up yet and protested. There’s an easy answer for any that do; no publisher has announced this as a policy covering all their books. “You don’t want a delay on your author, Ms Agent? If it’s what you’d like, we’ll put that ebook out simultaneously.”

In fact, Reidy hinted at this. She said there was one S&S author who asked to not be included in the list of withheld titles. She didn’t say how they handled it, but big houses don’t generally fight with big authors.

If all of the Big Six, or even just those who have announced this delay policy, stick to their guns then the ebook world may have lost a driver of converts from print. It may be that Amazon has, at least temporarily, lost an important sales tool to move Kindle devices. And, regardless of how this plays out from here, the power of the major author brands — through their publishers today and through their agents forever — to influence the course of development of the ebook market has been so clearly established that I (and other analysts as well) are not likely to miss the point again anytime soon.

So this is really about the agents and publishers trying to take control of ebook pricing, and value perception, back from Amazon. Some further evidence of that comes from the reaction of Len Riggio, Chairman of Amazon competitor Barnes & Noble (vendors of Kindle competitor Nook) who is reported in the Journal piece to be quite comfortable with this tactic, which the Journal characterizes as “in keeping with the long-held practice of issuing paperback editions after the initial hardcover.”

If the other biggest bookseller, which also has a dedicated ereader and an aggressive attitude toward consumer pricing, seems okay with this idea, it strengthens my belief that it is about controlling Amazon, not about controlling ebook pricing. The desirability of restraining Amazon is certainly something the big publishers and Barnes & Noble can agree on.

If the big houses can do this, they can do much more than this. They can sell ebooks direct off their own web sites. (That’s not doable for Kindle at the moment, but they’re eschewing Kindle sales for a time with this strategy anyway.) They can put ebooks into some channels (let’s say ScrollMotion, or the new Baker & Taylor Blio platform) and not others. They can’t tell a retailer what to charge for what they sell them (until somebody figures out how Apple and Bose manage to enforce price maintenance, apparently legally, but without the added complication of a wholesale-supply network), but they can deny a retailer whose policies about anything they don’t like direct access to their content.

How will Amazon respond to this? That is the big question. Their first reaction is to cut the price of the Sarah Palin book, which had been withheld, from their $9.99 point to $7.99. That’s not a conciliatory gesture, but it is a costly one!

Therein lies the irony that is scaring the hell out of the publishers. Amazon pays (approximately, I am not privy to the actual deals) half of the publisher’s suggested retail for these ebooks and then is selling the $9.99 or cheaper ones at a loss on every unit. From Amazon’s perspective, that makes complete sense. They build market share for the Kindle and they build a lot of customer loyalty. And they could even be doing this and still be making a positive margin contribution across all the content they sell for Kindle, even with the losses on the biggest books selling the most units.

So the publishers (and authors) actually benefit from Amazon’s policy; they sell more units and have more margin to share between them on each than they do on the print book.

But publishers don’t trust Amazon to keep things that way. From their perspective, Amazon is building a consumer expectation of an under-$10 price point while they are building up their audience of captive Kindle consumers. How long can it be, publishers figure, before Amazon says “sorry, now you have to sell me these for under ten dollars”?

The most-frequently ridiculed quote in the Journal article from Reidy points to that irony. The Journal quotes her saying, “with new [electronic] readers coming and sales booming, we need to do this now, before the installed base of e-book reading devices gets to a size where doing it would be impossible.” Taken literally, this remark leads to the ridicule that she’s shafting a market where sales are booming. But the subtext is that if publishers can slow down the growth of the Kindle installed base, it will give time for other technologies to catch up and create a more diverse marketplace, which is better for publishers.

There are two important aspects of this that will play out later. One is that what the publishers can do to Amazon today, the authors can do to the publishers tomorrow. If the publishers could sell the ebooks of big books successfully from their sites, then the big authors could also sell them directly without a publisher. The other is that this is a “last gasp” of a “static product” publishing economy. Big moneymakers ten years from now won’t often come from just selling the same content over and over again, but will more often come from content that triggers a more extended interaction. The most future-oriented thinkers are already past this battle, although there’s still a lot of fighting left to be done.

Does the war escalate from here? Do the publishers take their displeasure at Kindle pricing policies and Amazon’s apparent determination to promulgate cheap books to the next level, putting ebooks out in other formats and not Kindle?

And does Amazon, which has shown its willingness in the past to suppress the sale of print books, using its power to control the “buy” button”  to retaliate against policies it doesn’t like, fight back even harder than the Palin pricing decision indicates?

And if Amazon does fight back, do the publishers who aren’t executing this policy (Penguin is tentative and Random House is silent) benefit at the expense of those who are creating this window?

Will authors and agents (and let’s recall that a dozen agents were guests of Amazon out in Seattle a couple of weeks ago; one wonders that have been in any way a prelude to all of this) support the publishers in this policy which, after all, is costing both publishers and authors sales in the short run?

It is hard to imagine this battle ending peacefully anytime soon.

I am so glad that we have some panels at Digital Book World with agents on them and two panels on ebooks — one on pricing and one on windowing — that have both agents and publishers on them. This is one of those conversations about publishing’s future that makes no sense if you don’t include agents in the conversation and DBW is the first major conference on digital change in publishing to do that.


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Baker & Taylor has the next big thing in ebooks. Really!


We’re about to see the Next Big Thing in ebooks next month and it’s coming from Baker & Taylor. Baker & Taylor?

For the past ten years, Baker & Taylor in relation to Ingram has looked remarkably similar to Borders in relation to Barnes & Noble. Ingram and B&N are family-owned companies (although B&N has the very significant complication of being publicly traded which, with Ron Burkle as a publicly disaffected shareholder, has been well-reported lately) while B&T and Borders are highly leveraged and controlled by private equity. Ingram and B&N with their long-view management styles have made significant infrastructure investments that the always-looking-for-an-exit B&T and Borders ownerships haven’t matched. Ingram built a great supply chain support structure and digital capabilities and B&N built a well-oiled, customized-to-their-needs internal supply chain. And B&T and Borders have made publishers’ credit managers bite their nails while B&N and Ingram are financially solid.

Over the past couple of years, Baker & Taylor has been cobbling together a team of third party vendors attempting to match the service offering Ingram has bought and built internally. To compete with Ingram Digital’s content conversion and digital repository offering, B&T teamed with LibreDigital. To match Ingram’s ability to set up retailers to sell ebooks, B&T created a partnership with OverDrive’s Content Reserve. And to create a print-on-demand capability like Ingram’s Lightning Print, B&T teamed up with Donnelley, which put a machine in B&T’s Momence warehouse.

All of this made sense to me, but it didn’t add up to B&T presenting any serious challenge to Ingram. But they’ve now developed something that might not only give Ingram food for thought but might have them scratching their heads at Amazon and Google and Apple, as well as ScrollMotion and Vook and anybody else thinking about enhanced ebooks.

On January 7 at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, K-NFB  will unveil a new “reading technology.” We in the book business will get to know it as a proprietary ebook platform from Baker & Taylor that has capabilities nothing presented previously can match. The platform is called Blio and creator K-NFB is a partnership of tech visionary Ray Kurzweil and the National Federation of the Blind.

Blio is a software client that can work on “any device with an operating system”, which means computers and iPhones, but not Kindles. Based only on the demo we saw from Baker & Taylor Senior VP Linda Gagnon last week (of course I’d rather be reporting on something I saw on my own computer or iPhone), the presentation is the best I’ve ever seen. The type is crisp and sharp, it has full multiple-media functionality (video, graphics, TTV, links to the web), and it does tricks, my favorite of which is that you can see (on a PC screen) many pages at a time dealt out like a deck of cards. Then you find the ones you want and hone in on them. There are many ways to use that capability, particularly for an illustrated how-to book or a textbook.

The deal B&T is offering the publishing community is pretty compelling. Publishers deliver PDFs, which B&T converts for free to the new format. The publishers get the ebook back with a tool kit that enables totally intuitive functionality that will change styles and layouts, embed links or video or audio and set up the TTV capabilities. If there is a recorded audio of the same text, the toolkit will synch it to the ebook automatically. And users can take notes, or mark up text with yellow (or other color) highlighting.

The setup and tool kit for the publishers is without cost; Baker & Taylor plans to make its money on the transactions. They’re “wholesaling”, on whatever the established terms are with that publisher. B&T will also host and provide ecommerce support to bookstores and publishers who sell direct. There are potential devils in those details but, to start, it is obviously hard for any publisher to resist incremental revenue for no setup cost.

So it is not surprising that Gagnon says B&T has 180,000 titles already committed to Blio, at least 50,000 of which will be available at launch.

If the ebook rendering and toolkit put to shame everything that has been done so far (and they do), the same is true of the retailing presentation. The virtual books look look like physical books on a shelf. They have spines. You click on one and pull it down, rotate it, open it, and flip through the pages. Unless you’re on a PC and want to look at 50 pages at once, that is.

If what I saw on Gagnon’s computer is matched in the actual platform launch, I’ll be shopping and reading on this platform on my iPhone starting immediately. But what is even more intriguing is what publishers — and authors — are going to do with the toolkit.

We’ll assume the Baker & Taylor K-NFB platform works as well in distribution as it worked in the demo I saw this week; then we’re about to see an even richer and more complex ebook world in 2010. We know Google Editions is arriving in the first half of the year. We know the bookseller owners of Kindle and Nook are now engaging every serious book reader in the conversation about reading on devices. We know that the iPhone is a book platform that works for many people, and we know that Android-system phones will be too.

B&T’s Blio system is raising the bar for all of them by combining simple authoring tools with a delivery platform that enables enhanced editions. It won’t take long before many books, and, one would assume, all books that have large audiences will be available in something far more interesting than just a digital rendering of what appeared in print. It will create enormous new opportunities for many of the players, particularly authors, publishers, and the retailers without the scale to push their own devices. And it will put a lot of pressure on all the existing players to take their game up to the next level.

In the spirit of full disclosure I should reveal that over the years both Ingram and Barnes & Noble have from time to time been clients of The Idea Logical Company; Baker & Taylor and Borders never have.

And, of course, we’ve booked Baker & Taylor to talk about Blio at Digital Book World. They’ll appear on the schedule shortly.


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Can the chains provide us with better small bookstores?


There is considerable concern among the trade publishing establishment about the future of brick-and-mortar stores. As well there should be. Retail stores provide the most efficient promotion opportunities for books: putting them in front of people poised to buy. They give clear signals about sales appeal by positioning and piles of stock of varying sizes; they make it possible to “look inside” of illustrated books in ways that no online presentation can match; they enable discovery through serendipity; and they put more different book choices in front of any person faster and more efficiently than any web page or smart phone screen possibly can.

But they’re troubled. Same store sales, or what the Brits call “like-for-like”, have been declining. That may be partly due to the recession, but it is also due to factors that won’t go away: shifts of sales to the Internet, to ebooks, and perhaps to substitutes in other media and the Web.

The magic that grew Barnes & Noble and Borders into behemoths was large store size and title selection. My first experience with this effect was a lesson from my father, Leonard Shatzkin. He took over executive responsibility for the Brentano’s bookstore chain as a vice-president of Crowell-Collier (later called Macmillan, a company subsequently bought by Simon & Schuster and not connected to the company now called Macmillan) in the early 1960s. The store in that chain that was doing least well was in Short Hills, New Jersey. They doubled the number of titles the store carried and it soon was the best-performing store in the chain.

But the “size as a magnet” concept took a back seat to mall store expansion by Walden and B. Dalton in the 1970s. As shopping centers were built across the country, the mall developers favored national chains, which were “bankable”, for their leases. Walden and Dalton rode that wave and added hundreds of stores. Meanwhile, partly assisted by the expanding wholesaling services offered by Ingram, independent stores thrived and grew their title selections beyond what the space-challenged mall stores could offer.

In the late 1980s, Bookstop, a discount chain in Texas, pioneered the “superstore” concept: a massive selection of 100,000 or more titles under one roof. This was the Brentano’s Short Hills effect writ large. By that time, Borders and Barnes & Noble, which already had larger stores than the mall stores, had bought Walden and B. Dalton, respectively, giving them critical mass to support robust central operations and provide leverage in their relationships with publishers. The new superstore concept suited Wall Street, and the two big chains were bankrolled to roll out superstores nationwide.

This was great for everybody except some of the larger independents which, up to that time, had the large title selection field to themselves. For publishers, it meant lots of additional shelf space for their backlist. For consumers, it meant a large increase in choice at hundreds of locations around the country. The attraction of 100,000 or more titles under one roof was compelling; these superstores didn’t need malls to bring them traffic. They were destinations worth traveling to on their own.

But then came the Internet, and Amazon. As we used to remind ourselves quite often ten years ago, “the Internet changes everything.”

And what the Internet did was to seriously dilute the attraction of so many titles under one roof. Now “unlimited” choice was available online: not a hundred thousand titles, but millions. Not just the books presented by active publishers and chosen by buyers, but all the books, in or out of print.

By the turn of the 21st century, it seemed to me that the powerful attraction inherent in the massive superstore selection was muted. I advised a client to “leverage your infrastructure to figure out how to make the small store work.”

But, by that time, both the big chains were phasing out their mall stores. This was not entirely a matter of store size, although it might have been seen that way. The malls the stores were in were often in suburbs from which prosperity had moved on. The effect of the Internet wasn’t just being felt by bookstores, but also by department stores, which were the “anchors” that brought traffic to the malls. So footfall at the mall stores fell, quite aside from any negative impact of a limited title selection.

In 2009, the mall store era has officially come to an end. First Barnes & Noble announced it was closing all the remaining B. Dalton stores. Then, this week, Borders announced it is shuttering more than half of the remaining Walden stores, which will leave only 130 operating, in January.

Meanwhile, it only takes a visit to a B&N or Borders store today to see that they are hardly stuffed with books; the ones I’ve been in lately appear to have more space than they need, and this is when stores are relatively full of merchandise.

Of course, larger stores can be more cost-effective than smaller ones for other reasons beyond the attraction of the title selection, even if that attraction is working well. There are per-store costs, of store management and central management attention, that don’t readily reduce with store size. And while the effect of a massive title selection at a retail location might not be what it was 20 or 40 years ago, more titles will certainly attract more traffic than fewer.

Meanwhile, the other big change in the book retailing scene in the past 20 years has been the growth in sales at mass merchants: Wal-mart, Costco, and the price clubs and supermarkets. These stores leverage existing traffic (one would think that few, if any, customers go there for the books) and deep discounting to make significant book sales with a very limited selection of titles, usually well under 5,000. They’ve been part of the problem for full line book retailers. Their pricing and ubiquity bleed off sales of the highest-profile bestsellers. In the 1970s, bestsellers pulled people into bookstores where they might buy lower-profile books. Today bestsellers are presented to the public at cut prices where people buy their groceries or school supplies, leaving the bookstores with the customers who still consider them a “destination.”

Both of the big bookstore chains, but particularly Barnes & Noble, own unmatched infrastructures to deliver a curated selection of books to dispersed retail locations. They found it impossible to make the small stores they owned in the mall locations profitable, even with those capabilities. (In fact, Borders, which doesn’t have a supply chain to match B&N’s, outsourced some of its shelf-stocking at Walden to wholesalers in recent years. It is inconceivable that B&N would ever do something like that.)

But bookstores are going to be getting smaller; we know that intuitively and the stock we see in the current superstores confirms it. And smaller bookstores, if they were planned to be smaller, would require less space, less traffic, and less sales to be viable.

Of course, smaller stores wouldn’t be a magnet for traffic; that’s what turned the Short Hills Brentano’s around and that’s what fed the whole superstore revolution.

So it would seem the combination for the future might be a B&N or Borders mini-store inside another large retailer. Remember, many other retailers are going to be having the same problem; figuring out to deal with having too much space, so there should be potential collaborators on the other side of the partnership. This will require a different kind of inventory management than the chains exercise now; more of a rack-jobbing approach. But their capabilities: to source books, select books, organize books for presentation, and to deliver books all over the United States, will have more consumer demand than they’ll be able to satisfy with only their own very large stores.


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A coming new obsession: how to handle a smaller print-book business


Here’s a prediction that has almost no chance of being wrong. Every major player in the trade book industry is about to develop a new obsession: how must our business model change when we reach a level of ebook sales that is dynamically disruptive to the print book ecosystem?

This might not be exactly a “tipping point”, since that implies a point at which growth accelerates from some people to most people, or nearly all people. But print publishing will be seriously disrupted long before ebooks are used by “most people.” That’s because print publishing is a “critical mass” business: we need to sell enough to make a sensible print run, to keep the bookstore open, to support the sales organization and the warehouse. Our bestseller lists (with one exception) capture exclusively print sales, our author-publisher contracts and sales terms with accounts are based on the notion that we’re selling a physical object, and the biggest publishers in the land use their scale to perform capital-intensive functions that are, as much as any editorial or marketing expertise, what the authors need them for.

This presents a problem to all the incumbent players. Every powerful company in the print book supply chain: the big publishers, the big retailers (including Amazon!), the wholesalers, and certainly the independent retailers have a huge investment in competencies that revolve around print books. They can design them, jacket them, price them, print them, ship them hither and yon and keep track of each separate ISBN in the package, put them on shelves so customers will find them when they arrive and calculate when to take them off the shelves to send them back. Although there are other skills that these companies have that might port to an all-ebook or ebook-dominant world, none of these do.

Whether the challenges get acute when 20% of the sales of a narrative title are predictably e, or whether the number is 25% or 30%, the day is coming faster and faster. Growth in sales of the simplest kind of ebook — a direct lift of what is published in print — are exceeding the most aggressive predictions. The IDPF just announced that year-over-year ebook sales for August are triple what they were a year ago! Michael Pietsch, Publisher of Little, Brown, reports that 15% of total sales is the level many of their top authors are reaching now.

(Ruminative interlude: it has been my surmise that big authors will have their ebook sales “capped” at a lower level than smaller authors, just because their print books are on sale in so many more places. However, ebook sales are also very sensitive to “brand”; you don’t and can’t “browse” as many titles when you shop electronically, particularly on a device. I know that smaller publishers with less effective total distribution report Amazon sales of 60% and 80% of sales, so their ebook sales proportions are also bound to be much higher. But how the midlist authors of big publishers fare on overall ebook sales relative to the big ones is a question I haven’t asked. I will. Or, I am…)

Meanwhile, ereaders keep improving and proliferating; there have been several announcements of new devices in the past week, including the forthcoming “Nook” from B&N, which will really raise the stakes for Kindle. It will “see” Kindle’s e-ink screen and “raise” one LCD panel for link viewing, plus a 3G connection and Wifi use in B&N stores, all at the same price. B&N has the same power Amazon does to amass a robust list of titles (they have deep contacts with all the publishers) and they have at least as good a skill set for curation and merchandising to make a great shopping experience. And they’re putting their reader front and center in their bookstores (with the free wifi and some special in-store content features) which will expose the concept of the device to many people who don’t shop at Amazon and did not get blasted with a sales pitch every time they bought books.

Barnes & Noble had entertained being the ebook market leader a decade ago, losing interest when the Palm format became the early format frontrunner and wasn’t made available for intermediary distribution (one of the first in a string of futile attempts to install an iTunes device-capture model for book content, and before the iPod, at that.) Then B&N let Amazon get the jump on them in the ebook world with the Kindle; their Nook will be following more than two years later. In the meantime, B&N may have realized what all the big publishers know: that when the customer shifts to ebooks, it threatens all their business models, sunk investments, and longtime marketplace advantages. That, along with the sour experience of trying to lead on ebooks and being frustrated by what was actually a self-destructive policy by Palm, may have fed their apparent disinterest in ebooks until recently.

But it was clear to everybody that the first round of ebook growth shifted power dramatically to Amazon. Publishers have been frustrated and humbled by the Kindle’s rock-bottom, loss-leading pricing of the hottest new titles. And Barnes & Noble had to figure that, recession aside, some of those same-store sales they were missing were from shoppers who stopped coming to them because they had bought a Kindle and were now locked into the Kindle store for their purchasing to use the device.

Incidentally, the sales levels that the IDPF and Michael Pietsch are revealing are for legitimate ebook sales. Nobody knows the size of the pirate ebook market. There are some who guess it is rather small despite the robust number of files available in various hard-to-quell locations on the Internet, but if it includes any significant number of current or recent print-book customers, it only magnifies the impact on the legacy businesses.

There are a multitude of questions facing the industry about the expanding ebook market: how (some, including some highly credible voices, would say “whether”) to use digital rights management (DRM), how to price ebooks, what enhancements or updating can make commercial sense and how to manage them in the marketplace, when they should be made available, and, most important of all in the long run, what the “deal” is for the consumer (and then, based on that, for the author) who is actually licensing something rather than taking possession of something. But the questions about the declining print side are just as acute.

The brick-and-mortar bookstores, led by Barnes & Noble, are going to have to figure out how to keep their stores enticing with might be a smaller selection of print books. Nothing can grow the market for print books in the years to come, but keeping the number of points of purchase as high as possible and the traffic as high as possible are in the industry’s interests. It will require some real creativity to figure out what other activities or product offerings are compatible to keep people coming and how to drive traffic with online activity.

Amazon is not unaffected by this shift, either. Their big early lead in the ebook world was really built on the back of their superior print-book supply chain. From the very beginning, when they put out a database that had out-of-print books in it and then gave the customer a reliable delivery date for what they could sell, they created an unmatched print book shopping experience, provided a) you knew pretty much what you wanted and b) you didn’t have to have it right this minute. Their logistical capabilities are nonpareil but don’t do them nearly as much good with an electronic customer as a physical one. Their grasp on the ebook market really depends on the Kindle remaining a favored device and I think you could get good odds if you wanted to bet on that. Making hardware is not a core competency for them.

As the print business declines, Amazon continues to win if real print book demand falls more slowly than brick-and-mortar availability. But their hammerlock on the ebook market will probably not last; there will be too many better devices and they have to make a concessionary shift to selling the epub format before they can even begin to compete for those customers. They’ll do it someday, and probably soon, but they loosen the grip they have on the Kindle owners the day they do.

Publishers have an interest in continuing to support bookstore survival because the display they get there is great promotion and because being seen by a browser who put themselves at a bookstore section is still a great way to be discovered and bought. And there will still be, for some time, books which are not narrative reading which are simply better in print than in any electronic rendition. Publishers still sell a lot of these books (many of them juveniles) and bookstores, or some appropriate retail setting, are essential to them.

But publishers are going to have to rethink their operations. Sales staffs will probably contract; warehouse space will become redundant; investments in IT systems for the print operation will have to be more rigorously controlled. Publishers will likely combine, of course; the big houses now all gladly take competing publishers into their back office operations to help support them. But downward shifts in scale are not only inevitable, they will probably happen in more dramatic lurches than we’ve known in the past.

Wholesalers and distributors will both win and lose in this shift, but the shape of their business will certainly change. On the one hand, they, like everybody else, will lose sales that they have today because accounts go under and publishers they distribute cease operating. On the other hand, they are in the business of converting fixed operating costs to variable ones, and the number of customers for that proposition will grow as the apparent costs of operations (as a percentage of sales) get out of control at many companies.

Agents and the top 500 authors (an arbitrary number) are most likely to be the biggest beneficiaries of these changes in the short term. Because they themselves are powerful, searchable brands, they could actually sell ebooks themselves off their own websites, keep all the money, and make considerably more than their contracts would give them for ebook sales today even with sales of a quarter or less than the publisher and retailer get for them. (And the sales might not be that low.) I have talked to big publishers about the threat that top authors might just make their ebook deals first (you can cover the market in 4 or 5 stops and branded authors would have their own websites to sell from as well) and offer publishers print-only. Without exception, the big publishers tell me “no way we do the deal on that basis.” But if what is contended in this post is true — that keeping the print business viable is going to depend on amassing volume for it any way you can — they might not actually feel that way when presented with the problem. I think they will be getting the opportunity to make the choice.

I’ve posted on variations of this thought before. I had already decided it needed to be the topic of a keynote panel at Digital Book World. I’ve recruited Ken BrooksMichael CaderLarry Kirshbaum, and Evan Schnittman to join me on stage there to discuss it. Continually rebalancing the business between print and electronic, and maintaining the scale to run still-vital print operations, will be a topic of interest for just about all of us in the months and years to come.

Apologies for the paucity of posts lately. I’ve had a lot of work, been traveling, and had a bout of food poisoning. The food poisoning’s about gone, but the work and travel schedule remain robust for the rest of the month. I should become a more reliable correspondent again in a couple of weeks.


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Aggregation and curation: two concepts that explain a lot about digital change


Aggregation and curation: two concepts that explain a lot about digital change
Every time I read a story about why newspapers are failing that doesn’t mention the role of aggregation and curation in their troubles, it reminds me that something very fundamental is being missed, even by very sophisticated observers.
Aggregation is one of the core concepts of content presentation and commercialization. Any analysis of what happened to the record business, what is happening to newspapers, or the future of books and bookstores and magazines and TV that does not feature this concept prominently is almost certainly flawed. Aggregation, of course, simply means pulling together things which are not necessarily connected.
Curation is a term that has always referred to the careful selection and pruning of aggregates, such as for a museum or an art exhibition. But the concept in the digital content world means the selection and presentation of these disparate items to help a browser or consumer navigate and select from them. Aggregation without curation is, normally, not very helful. Curation creates the brand.
NOcontent makes its way from its creator to the public without aggregation. Agents are aggregators, pulling together the work of many writers to present an (agent-) branded offering to publishers. The business would be considerably more inefficient and expensive if agents didn’t aggregate the work of writers to present to publishers.
Publishers are aggregators, pulling together lists of books to present a (publisher-) branded offering to bookstores, libraries, and various review media.
Bookstores are aggregators, and their curation is reflected in front tables and shop windows and store sections that create a (retailer-) branded offering that consumers can navigate.
In the music world, record companies aggregated 10 or 12 or 15 songs by a single artist into a single offering (called an “album”, nomenclature that goes back to when it took a collection of 78 rpm records to deliver a concerto or a symphony, and those were delivered inside the sleeves of a bound volume.) When long-playing technology (33 rpm records) was perfected, the longer form became more cost-efficient than the single, on a pennies-per-minute calculation, so the longer form took over.
Or it took over until it wasn’t more cost-efficient anymore, which it wasn’t when the Internet happened. Aggregation and curation into 40- and 50-minute offerings no longer served the purpose that it used to. And since the unit of appreciation always had been the individual song, the aggregated album lost its sales appeal. It wasn’t just piracy that downloading enabled; it was the ability of the listener to curate for herself!
Newspapers are obviously aggregators and curators. The differences in their curation create their brand. The New York Times leaves out the comics. The New York Post leaves out the multi-syllable words. The Daily News beefs up its sports section and, for years, was known for having the best pictures. But one thing has been common to all of them and to all other newspapers: they cover the waterfront. (I have called that being “horizontal.”) They aggregate news of the world, the nation, and the city with sports, weather, stock quotes, advice to the lovelorn, and many other things. They sell almost all their advertising against the aggregate and against the brand, not against any specific item or interest being aggregated. And the competition for each paper is against other curated aggregates.
Newspapers sold the curated aggregate to people who didn’t want most of it because the total price was a good deal for the parts they did want, just like the album was a good deal even if you only liked some of the songs.
And now they are suffering precisely the same fate as the record album. The unit of appreciation is smaller than the whole. And for each unit of appreciation — each ball score, stock price, report from Washington, or political cartoon — there is a whole new host of competition.
So the long story short on newspapers is this: a business model of selling a horizontal (many-subject) aggregate, curated by something other than subject, was based on the economics of a physical world where aggregation produced efficiencies of production and distribution. The Internet changed that. It is no longer necessary for an aggregator to provide news to deliver me sports, or to provide a whole newspaper to deliver me the weather or a stock quote.
Horizontal aggregation was more efficient in a world of physical delivery. Vertical aggregation makes more sense in a world of digital delivery. And enabling the customer or user to have some control over the curation is possible in the digital world but hardly is in the physical.
What are the takeaways from this?
1. Don’t blame newspapers for not being ready for the new world. Their strategy of aggregation and curation was created for a physical world and it does not port to a digital one. This is not about whether the content is free or behind a pay wall. It is about the Internet rewriting the rules for what constitutes sensible aggregation and curation.
2. Booksellers must also take the new realities on board. Until the Internet, aggregating the largest possible selection under one roof had enormous customer value because the difficulty of obtaining what was not under that roof was high. It isn’t anymore. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and any retailer served by Ingram has a nearly-universal selection available for delivery within days, if not hours. So the gap between what’s in the store and what’s not has narrowed dramatically. The relative power of the large aggregate has been diminished.
3. The importance of curation becomes more prominent. If having lots and lots of books in a store doesn’t have the power it used to, having the right books becomes more important.
4. Publishers’ aggregation and curation created their brand, and their brand (in most cases) was intended to communicate meaning to retailers, librarians, and reviewers, not to the public! In  world where the powerful intermediaries are becoming more responsive to subject than to format, publishers need to rethink what they publish and how they present the collection that they choose.
5. Recommendation engines aside (”based on what you bought before, have we got a book for you!”), online book retailers have a long way to go to enable the customized curation that seems both possible and desireable in the digital age. Even as sophisticated a retailer at Barnes & Noble will present multiple duplicate entries of a public domain scan from Google to an ebook search for a Shakespeare play. And even as sophisticated a retailer as Amazon will sell you a Kindle ebook that is a self-published tome in a way that is indistinguishable from a book from a legitimate publisher. These are failures of curation.
Except for the writers, all of us in the book value chain are part of the effort to aggregate and curate the offerings of writers to others. Every editor and publisher, every bookstore and agent, got to where they are by aggregating and curating writers’ work in ways that made commercial sense in a physical world. Some of those assemblies are challenged; I’ve been saying that the more horizontal is the collection, the less likely it is to work in the digital world.
But, remember this: when you are looking for reasons to explain why a winner in print media is losing on the web, it almost certainly starts with aggregation and curation and how it needs to change to suit changed circumstances.

Every time I read a story about why newspapers are failing that doesn’t mention the role of aggregation and curation in their troubles, it reminds me that something very fundamental is being missed, even by very sophisticated observers.

Aggregation is one of the core concepts of content presentation and commercialization. Any analysis of what happened to the record business, what is happening to newspapers, or the future of books and bookstores and magazines and TV that does not feature this concept prominently is almost certainly flawed.

Aggregation, of course, simply means pulling together things which are not necessarily connected.

Curation is a term that has always referred to the careful selection and pruning of aggregates, such as for a museum or an art exhibition. But the concept in the digital content world means the selection and presentation of these disparate items to help a browser or consumer navigate and select from them. Aggregation without curation is, normally, not very helpful. Curation creates the brand.

No content makes its way from its creator to the public without aggregation. Agents are aggregators, pulling together the work of many writers to present an (agent-) branded offering to publishers. The business would be considerably more inefficient and expensive if agents didn’t aggregate the work of writers to present to publishers.

Publishers are aggregators, pulling together lists of books to present a (publisher-) branded offering to bookstores, libraries, and various review media. Bookstore buyers would find it much more difficult to purchase tens of thousands of new books each year without this branding.

Bookstores are aggregators, and their curation is reflected in front tables and shop windows and store sections that create a (retailer-) branded offering that consumers can navigate.

In the music world, record companies aggregated 10 or 12 or 15 songs by a single artist into a single offering (called an “album”, nomenclature that goes back to when it took a collection of 78 rpm records to deliver a concerto or a symphony, and those were delivered inside the sleeves of a bound volume.) When long-playing technology (33 rpm records) was perfected, the longer form became more cost-efficient than the single, on a pennies-per-minute-of-sound calculation, so the longer form took over.

Or it took over until it wasn’t more cost-efficient anymore, which it wasn’t when the Internet happened. Aggregation and curation into 40- and 50-minute offerings no longer served the purpose that it used to. And since the unit of appreciation always had been the individual song, the aggregated album lost its sales appeal. It wasn’t just piracy that downloading enabled; it was the ability of the listener to curate for herself!

Newspapers are obviously aggregators and curators. The differences in their curation create their brand. The New York Times leaves out the comics. The New York Post leaves out the multi-syllable words. The Daily News beefs up its sports section and, for years, was known for having the best pictures. But one thing has been common to all of them and to all other newspapers: they cover the waterfront. (I have called that being “horizontal.”) They aggregate news of the world, the nation, and the city with sports, weather, stock quotes, advice to the lovelorn, and many other things. They sell almost all their advertising against the aggregate and against the brand, not against any specific item or interest being aggregated. And the competition for each paper is against other curated aggregates.

Newspapers can sell the curated aggregate to people who don’t want most of it because the total price is a good deal for the parts they want, just like the album was a good deal even if you only liked some of the songs. Or they could.

But now they are suffering precisely the same fate as the record album. The unit of appreciation is smaller than the whole. And for each unit of appreciation — each ball score, stock price, report from Washington, or political cartoon — there is a whole host of new competition.

So the long story short on newspapers is this: a business model of selling a horizontal (many-subject) aggregate, curated by something other than subject, was based on the economics of a physical world where aggregation produced efficiencies of production and distribution. The Internet changed that. It is no longer necessary for an aggregator to provide news to deliver me sports, or to provide a whole newspaper to deliver me the weather or a stock quote.

Horizontal aggregation was more efficient in a world of physical delivery. Vertical aggregation makes more sense in a world of digital delivery. And enabling the customer or user to have some control over the curation is possible in the digital world but hardly is in the physical.

What are the takeaways from this?

1. Don’t blame newspapers for not being ready for the new world. Their strategy of aggregation and curation was created for a physical world and it does not port to a digital one. This is not about whether the content is free or behind a pay wall. It is about the Internet rewriting the rules for what constitutes sensible aggregation and curation.

2. Booksellers must also take the new realities on board. Until the Internet, aggregating the largest possible selection under one roof had enormous customer value because the difficulty of obtaining what was not under that roof was high. It isn’t anymore. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and any retailer served by Ingram has a nearly-universal selection available for delivery within days, if not hours. So the gap between what’s in the store and what’s not has narrowed dramatically. The relative power of the large aggregate has been diminished.

3. The importance of curation becomes more prominent. If having lots and lots of books in a store doesn’t have the power it used to, having the right books becomes more important.

4. Publishers’ aggregation and curation created their brand, and their brand (in most cases) was intended to communicate meaning to retailers, librarians, and reviewers, not to the public! In a world where the powerful intermediaries are becoming more responsive to subject than to format, publishers need to rethink what they publish and how they present the collection that they choose.

5. Recommendation engines aside (”based on what you bought before, have we got a book for you!”), online book retailers have a long way to go to enable the customized curation that seems both possible and desireable in the digital age. Even as sophisticated a retailer at Barnes & Noble will present multiple duplicate entries of a public domain scan from Google to an ebook search for a Shakespeare play. And even as sophisticated a retailer as Amazon will sell you a Kindle ebook that is a self-published tome in a way that is indistinguishable from a book from a legitimate publisher. These are failures of curation.

Except for the writers, all of us in the book value chain are part of the effort to aggregate and curate the offerings of writers to others. Every editor and publisher, every bookstore and agent, got to where they are by aggregating and curating writers’ work in ways that made commercial sense in a physical world. Some of those assemblies are challenged; I’ve been saying that the more horizontal is the collection, the less likely it is to work in the digital world.

But, remember this: when you are looking for reasons to explain why a winner in print media is losing on the web, it almost certainly starts with aggregation and curation and how it needs to change to be optimal in the new digital environment.


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Serious thoughts about the business (published by Barnes & Noble)


Daniel Menaker was not long ago the Executive Editor-in-Chief at Random House and writes knowledgeably about the state of play and state of mind inside Big Publishing today. His piece Redactor Agonistes  is a psychological snapshot of a declining industry, a catalog of the frustrations that are increasingly common in an environment where, as hard as everybody tries, the numbers just keep getting harder and harder to hit.
The first point to make about Menaker’s article is that is published by “review”, barnesandnoble.com’s online magazine. I knew that B&N was working hard on online content, but (not being much of a book review reader) I hadn’t actually looked at it until this article. Of course, it shows the magic of the web; I was directed to the Menaker piece by a number of online referrals and now I’ve discovered a whole new source of interesting content. This kind of intellectual article is not what I previously would have expected to see in a free publication created by a retailer! And it shows that BN.com is thinking about the value of a community of readers who think about the book business.
Menaker makes the overall point — familiar to anyone in the business — that publishing is about saying “no” far more often than it is about saying “yes.” Most submissions don’t get an offer. Most of the books that are published don’t get much attention. Most of the books that are published don’t earn out their advance (although that is not saying the same thing as “most books don’t make money”, which Menaker comes dangerously close to conflating. And if you use the benchmark of “make money”, you get drawn into a conversation about how charges for overheads are handled, which is a conversation we love having but we’ll save it for another day.)
I have said for years that “publishing a book presents the temptation to make an infinite number of decisions, which must be resisted.” Menaker notes this aspect too when he points that out that editors have to deal with nitpicking about the jacket, the design, the flap copy, all of which can be labored over forever if every thoughtful comment is responded to.
Menaker also notes the disconnect between the editors, who acquire the product, and the sales team that has to turn the investment back into revenue. Despite his years in the business at a reasonably senior level, Menaker admits “you don’t know what sales reps say about [the] book when they make sales calls.” He admits to a suspicion “that salespeople’s and buyer’s biases and preferences play a greater part in a book’s fortunes than most editorial people want to allow themselves to understand”. While I can quantify his benchmark about the editorial people, I can tell him from years of experience with sales that rep and buyer prejudices — which they would call either “tastes” or “instincts” — are, indeed, a significant component of the success of all books below the very top echelon.
Menaker notes that success in frontlist publishing is “very often random.” This is a level of humility and honesty that probably would be very hard for top management to accept from anything but a former executive editor-in-chief.
Of course, all these things — and many other things Menaker says in this piece — not only are true of trade publishing, they have always been true! In fact, with the consolidation of accounts, it is probably easier today for an editor to talk to buyers constituting a significant portion of a book’s potential than it was 20 or 40 years ago. (The sales department would hate the idea, but three or four conversations could cover more than 50% of the potential for most books.) The randomness he notes in frontlist success was probably greater when the account base was more decentralized. Publishers have always turned a lot of books down. Publishers have always done very little for most of the books on their list (besides putting them in a catalog, printing them rightside up, and sending them on their way.)
But I think Menaker is right when he suggests that publishing houses aren’t as happy places to be as they used to be. I just don’t think he has put his finger on the reason why.
He comes closest at the end when he talks about the creative acquirers’ need to feel that they have the “knack” of recognizing raw intellectual property that ends up making a lot of money. That’s really the problem; it is getting so hard to make money.
But that’s not because of the time-honored problems; it is because of the changes in the environment around publishing.
Each new book today is competing with millions of other book choices quite accessible to the consumer; 20 years ago it competed with about 100,000 other books. Forty years ago it competed with fewer than 50,000. Used books are offered right alongside the new ones online — a development of the past 10 years — and will increasingly be in the stores over the next 10 years. The amount of shelf space available for books at retail is shrinking for the first time in our lifetimes, while the number of titles competing for space is mushrooming. Menaker says 150,000 titles are being published annually; counting by the new ISBNs each year, the number os two or three times that large. Industry output was about 10,000 titles annually in the 1960s.
And all of that is before we take into account the information you would have gone to a book for 20 years ago that you go to the Internet for today: to choose a hotel in Paris, to figure out how to tend to a sick geranium, to find a great recipe to turn leftover ham hocks into soup.
It’s not anybody’s imagination that the business is getting harder and that it is also becoming more depressed. People in books are not as happy as they used to be, because success, as measured by dollars in over dollars out, is not as ubiquitous as it used to be. The change Menaker takes note of is not attributable to the changes in the way we do business; the changes in the way we do business are a response to a changing environment all around us. It is characteristic of an industry that is getting smaller after several hundred years of only getting bigger.

Daniel Menaker was not long ago the Executive Editor-in-Chief at Random House and writes knowledgeably about the state of play and state of mind inside Big Publishing today. His piece Redactor Agonistes is a psychological snapshot of a declining industry, a catalog of the frustrations that are increasingly common in an environment where, as hard as everybody tries, the numbers just keep getting harder and harder to hit.

The first point to make about Menaker’s article is that is published by review, barnesandnoble.com’s online magazine. I knew that B&N was working hard on online content, but (not being much of a book review reader) I hadn’t actually looked at it until this article. Of course, it shows the magic of the web; I was directed to the Menaker piece by a number of online referrals and now I’ve discovered a whole new source of interesting content. This kind of intellectual article is not what I previously would have expected to see in a free publication created by a retailer! And it shows that BN.com is thinking about the value of a community of readers who think about the book business.

Menaker makes the overall point — familiar to anyone in the business — that publishing is about saying “no” far more often than it is about saying “yes.” Most submissions don’t get an offer. Most of the books that are published don’t get much attention. Most of the books that are published don’t earn out their advance (although that is not saying the same thing as “most books don’t make money”, which Menaker comes dangerously close to conflating. And if you use the benchmark of “make money”, you get drawn into a conversation about how charges for overheads are handled, which is a conversation we love having but we’ll save it for another day.)

I have said for years that “publishing a book presents the temptation to make an infinite number of decisions, which must be resisted.” Menaker notes this aspect too when he points that out that editors have to deal with nitpicking about the jacket, the design, the flap copy, all of which can be labored over forever if every thoughtful comment is responded to.

Menaker also notes the disconnect between the editors, who acquire the product, and the sales team that has to turn the investment back into revenue. Despite some years in the business at a reasonably senior level, Menaker admits “you don’t know what sales reps say about [the] book when they make sales calls.” He admits to a suspicion “that salespeople’s and buyer’s biases and preferences play a greater part in a book’s fortunes than most editorial people want to allow themselves to understand”. While I can quantify his benchmark about the editorial people, I can tell him from years of experience with sales that rep and buyer prejudices — which they would call either “tastes” or “instincts” — are, indeed, a significant component of the success of all books below the very top echelon.

Menaker notes that success in frontlist publishing is “very often random.” This is a level of humility and honesty that probably would be very hard for top management to accept from anything but a former executive editor-in-chief.

Of course, all these things — and many other things Menaker says in this piece — not only are true of trade publishing, they have always been true! In fact, with the consolidation of accounts, it is probably easier today for an editor to talk to buyers constituting a significant portion of a book’s potential than it was 20 or 40 years ago. (The sales department would hate the idea, but three or four conversations could cover more than 50% of the potential for most books.) The randomness he notes in frontlist success was probably greater when the account base was more decentralized. Publishers have always turned a lot of books down. Publishers have always done very little for most of the books on their list (besides putting them in a catalog, printing them rightside up, and sending them on their way.)

But I think Menaker is right when he suggests that publishing houses aren’t as happy places to be as they used to be. I just don’t think he has put his finger on the reason why.

He comes closest at the end when he talks about the creative acquirers’ need to feel that they have the “knack” of recognizing raw intellectual property that ends up making a lot of money. That’s really the problem; it is getting so hard to make money.

But that’s not because of the time-honored problems; it is because of the changes in the environment around publishing.

Each new book today is competing with millions of other book choices quite accessible to the consumer; 20 years ago it competed with about 100,000 other books. Forty years ago it competed with fewer than 50,000. Used books are offered right alongside the new ones online — a development of the past 10 years — and will increasingly be in the stores over the next 10 years. The amount of shelf space available for books at retail is shrinking for the first time in our lifetimes, while the number of titles competing for space is mushrooming. Menaker says 150,000 titles are being published annually; counting by the new ISBNs each year, the number is actually two or three times that large. Industry output was about 10,000 titles annually in the 1960s.

And all of that is before we take into account the information you would have gone to a book for 20 years ago that you go to the Internet for today: to choose a hotel in Paris, to figure out how to tend to a sick geranium, to find a great recipe to turn leftover ham hocks into soup.

It’s not just in people’s imagination that the business is getting harder and it is also becoming more depressed. People in books are not as happy as they used to be, because success, as measured by dollars in over dollars out, is not as ubiquitous as it used to be. The change Menaker takes note of is not attributable to the changes in the way we do business; the changes in the way we do business are a response to a changing environment all around us. It is characteristic of an industry that is getting smaller after several hundred years of only getting bigger.


Comments

Is the ebook and POD combo a viable publishing strategy yet?


There’s a new publishing model afoot, which is to lead with the ebook and just print what you need. That might be POD, and it might be press runs, if you can sell out whole press runs. If the ebook becomes a substantial chunk of sales and if ebooks maintain their prices, this looks like it could be a new way to do much lower-risk publishing.
Some very smart publishing people are moving in this direction. It had been the plan of the meteoric Quartet, which has already flamed out. It is part of the plan of Richard Nash, an experienced publisher (Four Walls Eight Windows) and a budding entrepeneur. It is the model for a young and aspiring Irish publisher named Eion Purcell. And last week, tor.com announced that it would be publishing books (this is distinct from its “parent”, St. Martin’s sci-fi imprint Tor) with an ebook first and POD methodology.
Can no pressrun publishing work? That’s a subject for discussion at Digital Book World in January, but, based on an interesting post by Kassia Kroszer, one of the four principals in Quartet, I have real doubts.
Kassia’s post makes it clear that direct sales at “full margin” (meaning no cut to anybody else in the supply chain) were an important part of Quartet’s budget and plan. They figured that by sticking to niches, and the first one was going to be romance, they’d be able to build up a direct audience and avoid sharing revenues with retailers and wholesalers. Kassia points out that savvy ebook readers (who hate DRM, high prices, lack of interoperability, etc.) are willing to support their “local” publisher, knowing that more money gets to the author that way.
This all makes me more skeptical about the model.
First of all, savvy ebook readers are a large part of the current readership, but they won’t stay that way. If ebooks are going to become a business, than casual and uninformed ebook readers will have to join the party. Although I’ve been reading ebooks for 10 years, I’m one of those. I don’t shop around for my ebooks; I buy from what I deem to be the most convenient sources. When I read on a Palm (in pre-Kindle days), there was no such animal, but Peanut Press followed by Palm Digital followed by ereader had to serve. Then Amazon and Kindle changed the game. And now B&N is providing me exactly what I need for my iPhone.
If a web site I was on anyway offered me an ebook I wanted that would work in my BN reader software, I’d not be reluctant to buy it. But I wouldn’t be “shopping” anyplace else.
The loyal and informed crowd of romance readers may have learned that they can find the books they want at Harlequin.com or Ellora’s Cave, but there has to be a limit to the number of individual romance publisher sites the community will support. And you’d expect some critical mass of available material — as well as other content and participation opportunities — would be necessary to attract any substantial number of customers.
Secondly, the idea of building a niche presence through publishing in it, rather than through building a real vortal or community site, seems futile. What the internet has taught us (so far; it could change) is that making your own content and selling what you make is not a viable model, except at the very highest price points. You have to figure out how to leverage other people’s content and community participation. That’s what Google does. That’s what PublishersMarketplace does. That’s what the future successful publishers I envision in the Shift speech will have done.
Cutting costs and cutting waste, which ebook-first publishing does, would certainly seem like a path to financial viability. But it takes revenue to pay the bills. If you don’t go out and reach customers where they are — at the bit Internet retailers — it is hard to see how the ebook sales can be substantial enough to run a business. And if you do use those retailers, they extract their share of revenue for delivering access to the customers.
It may be too soon for the ebook-first model to succeed, except in very particular niches (which, indeed, is Purcell’s initial approach) or when it is supported by another business (which is, if you think about it, tor.com’s approach.)

There’s a new publishing model afoot, which is to lead with the ebook and just print what you need. That might be POD, and it might be press runs, if you can sell out whole press runs. If the ebook becomes a substantial chunk of sales and if ebooks maintain their prices, this looks like it could be a new way to do much lower-risk publishing.

Some very smart publishing people are moving in this direction. It had been the plan of the meteoric Quartet, which has already flamed out. It is part of the plan of Richard Nash, an experienced publisher (Soft Skull Press) and a budding entrepeneur. It is the model for a young and aspiring Irish publisher named Eoin Purcell. And last week, tor.com announced that it would be publishing books (this is distinct from its “parent”, St. Martin’s sci-fi imprint Tor) with an ebook first and POD methodology.

Can no pressrun publishing work? That’s a subject for discussion at Digital Book World in January, but, based on an interesting post by Kassia Kroszer, one of the four principals in Quartet, I have real doubts.

Kassia’s post makes it clear that direct sales at “full margin” (meaning no cut to anybody else in the supply chain) were an important part of Quartet’s budget and plan. They figured that by sticking to niches, and the first one was going to be romance, they’d be able to build up a direct audience and avoid sharing revenues with retailers and wholesalers. Kassia points out that savvy ebook readers (who apparently also hate DRM, high prices, lack of interoperability, etc.) are willing to support their “local” publisher, knowing that more money gets to the author that way.

This all makes me more skeptical about the model.

Savvy ebook readers are a large part of the current readership, but they won’t stay that way. If ebooks are going to become a business, than casual and uninformed ebook readers will have to join the party. Although I’ve been reading ebooks for 10 years, I’m one of those. I don’t shop around for my ebooks; I buy from what I deem to be the most convenient source. When I used to read on a Palm (in pre-Kindle days), there was no such animal, but Peanut Press followed by Palm Digital followed by ereader had to serve. Then Amazon and Kindle changed the game. And now B&N is providing me exactly what I need for my iPhone.

If a web site I was on anyway offered me an ebook I wanted that would work in my BN reader software, I wouldn’t be reluctant to buy it. But I will only be shopping at places that offer me a choice of things I want. It’s hard to imagine a single publisher doing that.

The web constantly reminds us of the value of monopoly. Amazon has a huge advantage in being the best place to shop for books because they’re the biggest. The size of the purchasing community adds value: more reviews, more data to make better suggestions or respond better to search queries, and it gives them the scale to add unique content through Kindle and BookSurge. In the same way, we’re likely to see a dominant horizontal ebook retailer emerge.

So no matter how good you are at selling your own stuff, if you want to sell to the public at large, you’ll almost always have to use intermediaries. And if you want to sell stuff to your own niche, you’re going to have to be an aggregator, not just a creator, to offer enough product to keep even a niche audience interested. And, if that’s true, then even within the niches, most of the small creators will have to share their revenue with an intermediary.

The loyal and informed crowd of romance readers may have learned that they can find the books they want at Harlequin.com or Ellora’s Cave, but there has to be a limit to the number of individual romance publisher sites the community will support. The right move for Harlequin would be to imitate tor.com and start selling their competitors’ books. (Tor hasn’t done this for ebooks, yet, but they have done it for print.)

The idea of building a niche presence for most subjects simply through publishing in it, rather than by building a real vortal or community site, seems futile. Another lesson from the web (so far; it could change) is that making your own content and selling what you make is not a viable model, except at the very highest price points. You have to figure out how to leverage other people’s content and community participation. That’s what Google does. That’s what PublishersMarketplace does. That’s what the future successful publishers I envision in the Shift speech will have done.

Cutting costs and cutting waste, which ebook-first publishing does, would certainly seem like a path to financial viability. But it takes revenue to pay the bills. If you don’t go out and reach customers where they are — at the big Internet retailers — you need to be selling ebooks to a very large community for sales to be substantial enough to run a business. And if you do use those retailers, they (quite reasonably) extract their share of revenue for delivering access to the customers.

It may be too soon for the ebook-first model to succeed, except in niches more tightly defined than “romance” (which, indeed, is a big part of Purcell’s initial approach) or when it is supported by another business (which is, if you think about it, tor.com’s approach.)


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