Bran Hambric

Apologies in advance for a much-longer-than-usual post.

It is not like the publishers haven’t seen the ebook royalty fight coming. On a panel he and I were on together in March of 2009, John Sargent, the Chairman and CEO of Macmillan, identified ebook margins as the critical issue for publishers going forward. Even though ebook sales at that point were financially insignificant and the growth surge that we’ve seen in the past 15 months wasn’t yet evident, Sargent expressed the belief that ebooks would be the future and that publishers had to be diligent to preserve their margins in the digital environment.

There are three moving parts to the publishers’ margin equation for ebooks.

The one that I think Sargent was thinking most of at that time is ebook pricing. If “misguided” publishers or market forces drive down prices a great deal, that could threaten publishers as sales migrate to digital.

The second one, which was then and remains today a focus of publishers, is the potential consolidation of sales channels so that power moves from a multitude of publishers to a small number of, or perhaps a single dominant, point of contact with the customer. Until the Nook came along from B&N last winter and the iPad from Apple in the spring, Amazon and Kindle looked dangerously close to being able to dictate both pricing and margin in the ebook supply chain.

And third, of course, is the amount of the consumer spend that is taken by the authors: the royalty.

The ebook pricing and channel consolidation issues have been front and center for the past year, ever since Dominique Raccah of Sourcebooks put “windowing”, which had been tried before for ebooks, in the spotlight as her solution to the perceived damage deeply discounted ebooks could do to print book sales, particularly of the hardcover edition. After she announced that she was holding back the ebook for Bran Hambric, similar announcements came from other publishing houses. At that time, only a year ago, Amazon was the dominant ebook vendor with Kindle sales amounting to 80% or more of the ebook sales for narrative trade books.

But the introduction of Barnes & Noble’s Nook device began to eat into Amazon’s hegemony last winter as 700 B&N stores started pushing a Kindle-type experience on their millions of customers. Then, in April, Apple introduced the iPad and changed the game two ways.

First of all, their tablet computing device, which can serve as a larger-than-a-cellphone screen for an ebook reader, started adding tens of thousands of new device-equipped potential book customers every day!

But along with the device competition, the iPad and its iBooks platform added a new business model called Agency. And, under Agency, the pricing of ebooks at retail theoretically becomes standardized across the web, not subject to discounting by individual retailers. This visibly upset Amazon, which appeared to pick a fight with Macmillan over the terms. It looked to those of us with no inside knowledge of their conversations to be an attempt to bully publishers to give up the Agency idea. In retrospect, this was perhaps a bad fight to have picked. Amazon’s threat was to stop selling the print editions of titles from those publishers who sold ebooks on Agency terms. Since five of the top six publishers were moving in that direction, and none of them blinked, Amazon had to, in their own words, “capitulate.” (On the other hand, we are not aware of any other publisher, beyond the Big Five, to whom they also capitulated, so the final score on this fight isn’t in yet.)

So it would seem that the big publishers have solidified two of the major components of their ebook margin. With their help, consolidation in the ebook channel has been reversed and they’ve taken critical steps to control prices to the consumer, while ebook sales have continued to rise at an accelerating pace.

But there remains this tricky question of royalties.

Agency pricing compounded the 25% problem from the authors’ and agents’ point of view because the base price for Agency books is 25% to 40% lower than it is for the old model, wholesale, so the authors’ share is commensurately reduced. Most agents liked the principle of getting uniform pricing, likely to create a healthier ebook marketplace, but were understandably miffed that their per-copy take could be reduced without any agreement required on their part. The publishers would no doubt point out that their take per ebook unit was going down as well. And Random House, still selling at wholesale, is no doubt making the point that their 25% amounts to substantially more per unit than the other guys’ 25%.

There had already been signs for a while that a lot of legacy backlist wasn’t being enticed by the royalty offers of its current publisher. Jane Friedman, formerly the CEO of HarperCollins and an important player on the New York publishing scene for four decades with a lot of very solid relationships, started a new publishing company called Open Road. Among her propositions was to secure ebook rights to some very well established backlist titles by offering a royalty of 50% of receipts while many of the big publishers were apparently holding the line at 25%. The early headline “get” for Open Road were novels by William Styron.

Then in December, S&S bestselling author Stephen Covey announced that he was putting some of his backlist into ebooks for a deal calling for more than 50% of receipts through Rosetta Books, which had litigated inconclusively with Random House about these matters a few years ago. Through Rosetta, Covey’s books were going to be exclusively offered for a time through Kindle. At the time that announcement was made, Nook hadn’t taken hold and iPad hadn’t come out and Kindle was the dominant platform in the market. A time-limited exclusive with them at that moment didn’t seem crazy.

Last week, the plot really thickened.

In retrospect, one could say that there were two preliminaries to the big news about the intentions of the agent Andrew Wylie.

On Tuesday Teleread carried the story that Knopf was pushing ahead to digitize more backlist. There appears never to have been a formal announcement of this, and it seemed a bit curious on a couple of counts. One is that Random House, of which Knopf is a part, has already digitized backlist for years. What could they have missed in their prior efforts? The other is that it always seemed that Random House’s digital efforts were corporate, not imprint-specific. Why would there be news about Knopf on its own?

Then my good friend Evan Schnittman published a post on his Black Plastic Glasses blog called “Pass the Gestalt, Please.” Evan’s point was simple and forcefully made. Ebooks don’t exist in a vacuum; they can’t be evaluated with stand-alone economics. Publishers acquire intellectual property and they monetize it every way they can. They make more from some formats and channels than they do from other formats and channels. But what matters in the end is how much total money they produce, for themselves and for their authors.

I have a problem jumping from the math Schnittman lays out to the characterization that agents are being unreasonable when they ask for a higher percentage of ebook receipts than they get of hardcover receipts. Schnittman argues that margin is irrelevant because the parties aren’t negotiating a profit-sharing deal. I’d say the receipts comparison that he draws is irrelevant. Hardcover receipts are offset by printing costs, handling costs, and spending for excess inventory that receipts on ebooks are not.

Schnittman’s post, which was debated as soon as it hit, turned out to be prologue to the events which then dominated conversation for the rest of the week.

By all public appearances, big publishers were being very stubborn about their 25% ebook royalty, even on very important backlist and more or less daring authors to do something about it.

On Wednesday morning, the plans of the Wylie office were dropped like a bomb, apparently by Amazon. (I am told by a source I trust that Amazon revealed the news and that Andrew Wylie himself was, and is, away on vacation. The Times, as you can see, didn’t report it that way.) It was announced that Wylie that had formed a new publishing company called Odyssey to handle some significant backlist  and — in an apparent middle finger to the entire publishing community — were putting the books into Amazon for a 2-year exclusive. Left unrevealed were what Wylie was paying the authors, what splits Amazon offered Wylie’s authors, and whether any money changed hands between Amazon and the new Odyssey entity. The announcement of Odyssey followed a long period where Wylie had complained publicly about publishers’ reluctance to pay what he (and many other agents) thought were reasonable ebook royalties for legacy backlist.

Response was quick. John Sargent, tongue deeply in cheek, welcomed Wylie to the community of publishers and suggested he should perhaps be paying AAP dues. Random House announced they would not be buying any books from the Wylie agency until this issue was resolved. And many people observed that signing an exclusive deal with Amazon when they’re losing market share quickly and are likely to lose more soon was questionable, not to mention whether there was a conflict of interest for an agent publishing his own clients’ books.

Without knowing what incentives Wylie got for his authors from Amazon in return for the exclusive, it is hard to be sure that it is a mistake (although it seems likely, given the current growth pattern of the ebook suppy chain.) But the conflict of interest for an agent charged with looking for the best possible deal for an author and then self-publishing, in the face of potential litigation, is transparent. And even if Random House is the only house that openly boycotts the agency, there’s an impact on all Wylie clients in return for a theoretical advantage for the ones being he will publish through Odyssey. One must imagine there are more than a few current authors with that office who are scratching their heads about what this might mean for them.

From my perspective, there’s plenty of justification on all sides of this argument. Although I didn’t like his math, Evan Schnittman is entirely correct to say that a publisher making a deal for a copyright plans to exploit it through all channels. In words I’ve heard often from John Schline of Penguin, “you don’t do a P&L on a format; you do a P&L on a title.” They’re right that the author negotiating a deal with them accepts a basket of compensation schemes for different channels in return for an advance. Logical fallacies can creep in when you take one element of it in isolation and say it “isn’t fair” (although, in practice, that’s exactly how contracts are negotiated.)

But the controllers of old copyrights — the Styron estate and Stephen Covey, among others, and apparently several other estates and authors represented by Andrew Wylie — are also right to believe that the ebook rights weren’t contemplated in the contracts for the books in question and that a publisher starting today to publish those books electronically will have a tiny cost base and relatively astronomical margins.

Certainly not all publishers are being stubborn about the 25% number in all negotiations. And agents usually feel they can’t talk about concessions they get publishers to make. One made it very clear to me that s/he was getting concessions from publishers on ebook royalty terms in the form of escalators, but would never say so out loud for fear of angering the customers of s/he’d wangled those concessions from.

(On the other hand, things might be changing fast. In a story I saw just as I was finishing this post, the Financial Times wonders if the Wylie plans don’t signal the conclusion of publishing as we have known it. In that story, superagent Amanda (Binky) Urban is quoted saying her ICM office is getting significant royalty concessions from major publishers, including Random House. Perhaps the Wylie story has changed the dynamic so that now publishers want all the agents to know they’re ready to be reasonable. I’m not aware of an agent having been quoted to that effect before, and it would seem highly unlikely that Urban said what she said without having consulted any house she would name in advance. All of that would anticipate the suggestion I’m making below.)

All public statements are, by definition, posturing.

But the arguments publishers have made publicly to this point have elided the fact that their negotiating position is not the same for these books as they are for a new book. When a new proposal is put in front of them for purchase today, whether they are offering $10,000, $100,000 or $1 million for the rights, they’re in a position to say “if you want my check, it comes attached to these royalty terms.” But they didn’t stipulate those terms when they published books 40 or 30 or 20 years ago, or even 10 years ago. At a minimum, they require agreement from the author on a royalty rate to publish the ebook today; they may need agreement from the author to publish the ebook at all.

Why would the publishers expect an author whose book has earned out long ago, who has no requirement to allow the publisher to publish the ebook and (at the very least) a case to make that they’re free to sell ebook rights elsewhere, to accept the same terms that are offered to authors not in that position?

Publishers may have trapped themselves by not articulating that distinction. Their public position seems to be that they can’t make a competitive deal on this backlist because it would create precedents for the new titles they’re negotiating for today. But it doesn’t have to. There’s a very simple, clear policy they could declare that would make this whole issue go away. Maybe there are one or two already acting this way, but it would be nice if even one publisher would just say this:

“Our policy for all new titles we sign up in the context of all our other standard terms is that we pay 25% royalty on ebooks. But for those books on our backlist which a) have earned out their advance and b) have ambiguity in their original contracts making it unclear what the royalty rate for an ebook should be, we will negotiate a higher royalty in recognition that a contractual element is being negotiated after the value of the copyright has been demonstrated in the marketplace and the risk profile has changed.”

Life is very complicated here. Every deal is different. There are costs and risks for authors and publishers trying to set up these separate ebook deals while a print backlist remains with a legacy publisher. The publisher might sue (although that opens up, for them, the danger that they’d lose, and the consequences of that could be dire.) At the very least, the author annoys the guys with the big checkbooks who are still the custodians of their print sales.

Although it is certainly possible that some authors or estates would want a publisher as talented as Jane Friedman remarketing their backlist, I still believe that if Open Road and others are offering 50%, publishers would find many authors receptive to avoiding the conflict if the publishers were offering 40%. But even if they had to pay 50% to some authors, the publishers would be doing themselves a favor by stating the position articulated above.

Each publisher has to do its own math about how many books of theirs would be affected and what openly paying 60-to-100 percent higher royalties on those books would cost them. Undoubtedly, it would also require them to make concessions to authors they’d roped in for the 25% royalty; certainly many of those have re-openers or most favored nation clauses of some kind in their contracts. That’s the downside. But there is a lot of upside. For one thing, Open Road and Rosetta and Wylie’s new imprint would be seriously weakened; except for Open Road, which has strong cachet with Jane Friedman at the helm, they might just disappear. For another, lots of great titles that could be selling robustly as ebooks if only they were available as ebooks would be producing revenue for the publishers (as well as the authors.) Significant legal costs and liabilities would evaporate. And they’d gain enormously in trust and goodwill with the agents, who are spending far too much time trying to figure out how to go around publishers for the best backlist they control, rather than how to work with them. The conversations I have had make me believe that most agents do not believe that most big publishers are willing to deal on the basis I’m outlining here, (although a lot of them will be calling the publishers tomorrow after they read Binky Urban’s quotes.)

Aside from the reduced per-copy royalties agents and authors are seeing from the Agency pricing, they are also afraid that robust ebook sales at the hardcover price are postponing the issuance of trade paperback editions, on which the 25% Agency royalty does exceed the normal 7% of retail paid on print. That makes them feel like they’re losing again.

It is a paradox that traditional contracts have legacy publishers — the ones who write the large advance checks — paying higher per-copy print royalties than many little publishers pay on hardcovers, even with the various high-discount clawbacks that have been built in over the years. The ebook-first publishers who do print will almost certainly pay lower print royalties than print-first publishers have, if they do hardcovers at all. Publishers will need a foundation of good will, but over time should be able to negotiate lower hardcover royalties in return for higher ebook royalties on new contracts. And that will make sense, because, ultimately, print sales are more expensive for publishers to deliver than ebook sales.

Even if the publishers pushing back manage to win this round with Wylie, and they well might, I don’t think the 25% royalty can hold for very long. As more and more of the business shifts to ebooks, companies without the legacy costs that big publishers have will find it easy to pay higher royalties than that and agents will keep doing the math about how many sales they can afford to lose and still end up ahead in dollars with a higher ebook royalty. As Amazon should have learned in their fight with Macmillan in January, it isn’t smart business to draw a line in the sand marking a position you ultimately can’t defend. I hope every big publisher in town will take that lesson on board, or, even better, that Urban’s remarks tell us that they already have.

In a dialogue with a couple of smart people in my “kitchen cabinet” between writing this piece and posting it, I was asked whether I thought the ebook should have a royalty “greater than the hardcover or less than the paperback.” My response was:

I don’t have an ideology about this. Applying logic alone, I would think a Harlequin or O’Reilly ebook author should get a lower percentage than a Big Six ebook author because the Harlequin and O’Reilly brands add to the online ebook sales power in ways the Big Six publisher brand does not. The same author and the same book wouldn’t sell as well if it were under another imprint. Fully applied, that approach would mean that every deal would be different, which is utterly impractical. I don’t like to advocate things that are impractical.

Publishers should try to make standard the lowest royalty that they can apply in the marketplace without making enemies of their trading partners. It just isn’t realistic to offer a brand name with a choice of where to go 25% in this day and age. It’s just bullheaded. My sense is that any house that offered a standard 25% to earnout and 35% thereafter would be fine for now, except with the biggest authors with whom they’ll have to negotiate escalators (or change the basis on which the not-intended-to-be-earned-out advance is calculated.) But all solutions here are temporary. The line won’t hold. When ebook sales get to 50% of the total (2014-15), even 50% is not going to cut it.

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Now I swear all this is true. As everybody knows, a very serious food fight broke out between Amazon and Macmillan late Friday night. All weekend Michael Cader led the way in ferreting out additional useful information and I spent most of today (Sunday) trying to write an analytical blogpost. I got it just about finished in the early afternoon, and the bottom line to what I’d written was “Amazon will not be able to sustain this.”

I decided to hold the post until after going to see Crazy Heart this afternoon and, when I came home, Amazon had already folded. But I had written a post that provided a lot of useful information, even if events had stolen my punchline.

So I’m giving it the once-over to edit it for the reality that Amazon has already announced that they will not continue to boycott Macmillan books.

It is received wisdom in Washington that when you have news you have to release but would prefer to have minimum impact, you release it on Friday afternoon. The latest tiff in the Amazon versus Big Publisher brouhaha went that idea one better; it appears to have broken in the middle of the Friday-to-Saturday night.

About midnight that evening, David Wilk alerted the Brantley list to a VentureBeat post that indicated that Macmillan titles were no longer available at Amazon.

By noon the following day, Brad Stone had posted a further explanation to the NY Times blog.

The VentureBeat post had no clue as to what was going on and even carried a link to a post from author John Scalzi suspecting a “glitch.” But Stone pinned down that the disappearance of the Macmillan titles was, indeed, retaliation for Macmillan’s move to the agency pricing model, first revealed by Michael Cader in Publishers Lunch and discussed on this blog last week.

Sometime late Saturday afternoon, Lunch posted a narrative explaining what was going on and including a paid insertion from Macmillan: a letter from Chairman and CEO John Sargent giving Macmillan’s account of what had transpired.

Which, as many people who care know by now (as I write this on Sunday morning and afternoon) is that Macmillan told Amazon about the new agency model, by which Amazon would actually get ebooks at lower prices than now but also by which Macmillan would set the prices to consumers. Amazon retaliated with what is, more or less, a “nuclear option.” Macmillan books are no longer on sale except through third party vendors (extending the ban to those dealers would open up yet another big can of worms for Amazon and they hardly need any more) and that includes Kindle. Most of the third party vendors are selling used books and no Macmillan books are being transacted directly by Amazon at all.

We have said on this blog, repeatedly, that publishers’ discounts to retailers would have to come down and that the windowing tactic (delaying ebooks from being available when the hardcover first comes out) was all about pricing control and nothing else.

What I want to accomplish in this post is to lay out clearly what is happening and then enumerate some key points about what’s going on: paradoxes and prospects.

Before the Agency Model (like “now”), publishers sell ebooks at about 50 off an often ridiculously high established price (”parity” is common; same price as a hardcover on a new book) to retailers who were setting the prices to the consumer themselves and, following Amazon’s lead, always discounting. The publishers are paying the authors royalties that are frequently 25% of net, which amounts to 12.5% of publisher declared retail. Some publishers pay 15% of retail; Sargent, in a previous letter to agents, indicated a desire to move from 25% of net to 20% of net, which would be 10% of retail.

The proposed Agency Model will have publishers setting a price lower than the established retail they had before but higher than the deep discounts Amazon led retailers to sell at. The publisher intends to  pay 30% of that established price to the retailer and 25% of either the full consumer price or of the 70% “net” (still to be determined) to the author. This means that the retailer will get a higher price from the consumer and a better margin than they realize now (even though a lower percentage of the “established” price). The author’s cut per copy could actually be reduced!

The wholesalers, Ingram and Content Reserve, often get the same discount as publishers. They handle the stores and libraries publishers serve don’t want to deal with directly. So those stores and libraries get less margin than the big ones publishers handle without an intermediary. One thing that was new to me that came out on the Ebook Supply Chain panel at Digital Book World is that publishers insisted on vetting the accounts that would be selling their books to make sure they didn’t violate territorial restrictions. So Ingram (and presumably Content Reserve) has to manage a granular control by title by publisher by account.

It is not at all clear how the Agency and price maintenance protocols get applied through wholesalers. Perhaps this means that smaller accounts and libraries just won’t have the newer titles that will only be released on the Agency basis (assuming that the scenario Sargent describes is what is also followed by other big publishers.)

This is a bizarre paradox, really. Macmillan actually proposed to sell Amazon the ebooks at what is, in effect, a lower wholesale price than Amazon gets now and their enforcement of a retail price puts more margin into Amazon’s pocket on every sale made than they earn now! And Amazon is fighting it.

Sargent’s note makes clear that the discount-off-retail pricing that has existed all along will still be offered, but that newer books wouldn’t be included in that offering. Those would be available only on Agency terms. What is not clear is whether Macmillan intends to continue the Agency terms past the nine-month “window” for new books. We’d guess they will for some accounts.

But that leads to another paradox because publishers unambiguously benefit if retailers sacrifice their own margin and discount when hardcover price maintenance and NY Times Bestseller list rankings are not at stake. Lower prices to consumers sell more copies. Presumably retailers will continue to want to compete on price and will do so when sales terms allow. But what does that do to the publishers’ challenge of “setting” prices for those accounts that want that done across the entire list?

Yet another paradox is the position of the agents. On the one hand, we have seen that many of those representing big authors see the same danger the big publishers do of inexpensive ebooks undercutting valuable hardcover sales and Times Bestseller rankings. On the other hand, publishers lowering established ebook prices and reducing their take from their intermediaries could often mean lower royalties for authors. But not necessarily.

If publishers are paying on “net receipts” (and many are) and if a) retail prices aren’t cut by as much as half (which they often won’t be) and b) if the publisher doesn’t deduct the Agency “commission” from its computation of net (sure to be debated), then the basis of the author’s royalty wouldn’t go down.

Quick summary: if you have a $25 list price ebook on which the author’s royalty is 25% of net, the author is now getting 25% of $12.50, or $3.125. If that book becomes a $15 ebook with a 30% commission, the author would get $3.75 (a nice increase) if the commission is not deducted first and $2.625 if it is (a sharp cut.) Of course, the $25 and $15 prices described here are notional and with different prices (as they say) “your results will vary.” If that notional book had been priced at $30 in hardcover, the author’s share would have been $4.50 and the ebook price change would clearly cost them something on every copy.

Author Charles Stross had a very insightful post on his blog, speaking from the perspective a gored ox (he has books published by Macmillan which have been taken down.) Stross makes clear that Amazon is miffed because their competitive strategy of driving away ebook competition through aggressive discounting will be foiled by publisher price-setting. Stross says:

Amazon are going to fight this one ruthlessly because if the publishers win, it destroys the profitability of their business and pushes prices down.

I’m not sure it “pushes prices down”; I think it actually pushes (ebook) prices up, at least temporarily. But the points Stross makes about Amazon wanting to achieve ebook hegemony and the Agency model being part of the publishers’ plan to beat that back and strengthen other players seem right to me.

We had a lot of this conversation last Spring before Sourcebooks’s windowing move with Bran Hambric, followed by Hachette with True Compass and HarperCollins with Going Rogue, pushed this tussle between Amazon and publishers to the forefront. In his analysis at that time, Cader made the point that publishers were actually helping Amazon undercut other retailers with their “parity” pricing; making the ebook retail the same price as the hardcover print retail. His logic was that the high prices increased Amazon’s advantage over other retailers because they could better afford to sell high-profile titles at a loss than their competition. Meanwhile, the publishers (and authors working on “net”) continue to get higher ebook revenues than the consumer spending would really entitle them to.

My first question when all this arose overnight on Friday was “why Macmillan?” Sargent’s note may have answered that question: because John was in Seattle on Thursday officially delivering Amazon the Agency Model news that we only assume is going to come to them from other publishers as well. One presumes that Amazon thinks that taking such drastic action as this might discourage the other publishers thinking about doing the same thing (and the iPad announcement on Wednesday would lead us to think that four of the remaining five Big Six players are indeed working out the details of a similar consumer-price-controlling sales model.)

And Amazon apparently figured out, as I was writing these words, that the only brand blown to smithereens by the nuclear option would be theirs. It is hard to imagine how extensive the brand damage could have been if Amazon delisted even one more major publisher along with Macmillan for even a couple of weeks. For a brand whose principal attributes are dependability and dedication to the consumer, it would have been catastrophic.

Amazon says now that the boycott is temporary and they were candid about the fact that they have no choice but to yield. They take a swipe at the publishers’ copyright-based “monopoly” on titles. But this was a really bungled response on every level. Amazon deserves credit for being smart enough to walk this thing back within 48 hours. Amazon may have to learn something new for them in the ebook space: how to be one of a number of players, not the only game in town.

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The tactic of keeping the ebook off the market to “protect” hardcover sales, first executed by Sourcebooks this month on behalf of Bran Hambric, is becoming more widespread. At the same time that Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol was released simultaneously in cloth and digital, Ted Kennedy’s posthumous True Compass was released in print with the ebook withheld. Now Harper has announced that the new Sarah Palin biography will come out in cloth in November, but the ebook will be held back until the day after Christmas.

The Kennedy case is a bit different because the book contained color pictures that would not render on the most popular ebook platform (the Kindle), but in all these cases the primary motivation of the publisher seemed to be to avoid having a low-priced ebook competing with its hardcover sales.

Kassia Kroszer has written a nice little rant about the counterproductiveness of this strategy, with which on purely economic and marketing grounds, I substantially agree. She points out that there is no evidence that ebook sales come at the expense of hardcover sales (of course; there’s also no evidence that they don’t…) She also posits that the ebook reader and print reader are often different people. If that’s true (and it is a general notion I’m inclined to share), then holding back the ebook is bound to just lose sales because the title won’t be available as an ebook during “maximum buzz.”

If a publisher’s concern is that reckless ebook pricing bleeds sales away from the hardcover, there is another solution. (One that can work; I have proposed solutions that can’t work.)  The publisher could just sell the ebook exclusively at its own site and price it any way they want. It would be like the publisher download is the ebook “hardcover” (i.e. expensive) which is replaced by the ebook “paperback” (i.e. sold at retailers and priced more aggressively) with whatever timetable for that the publisher wanted.

If publishers maintain their retail prices and their discounts, then the aggressively-priced ebooks aren’t costing them any margin. In that case, they’d be making more money per unit on the ebook than on the print books. There’s a degree to which the retailers’ aggressive pricing constitutes a gift to publishers and authors, even if none of them seem to be seeing it that way.

But there are also two other elements  major publishers have to  considere when they make ebook decisions: their relationship with Amazon.com and the health — even the existence — of a brick-and-mortar retail book trade.

Amazon is the driving force behind cheap ebooks, and they’re doing it to herd more and more people into their closed market with the Kindle. That’s a perfectly reasonable objective from their point of view, but it is very threatening to everybody else in the industry, all of whom would prefer a more diversified ebook market for their own reasons. That’s part of why I think selling direct off the web site at the higher price is something you might see happen. It’s a polite way to stick a finger in Amazon’s eye.

The retail book trade is important for many reasons, but the under-appreciated one is that bookstore shelf space, at 45 to 50% discount off retail, is the cheapest marketing investment publishers can make. It sorts their books out and puts them on display (hey! sometimes even in shop windows!) in front of people who want to buy a book. There isn’t any better product placement than that. Every ebook sold weakens the trade, accelerates the reduction of opportunities to put books in front of readers in the most efficient possible way. Publishers have a real interest in preserving that asset.

Earlier today we interviewed Raelene Gorlinsky of Ellora’s Cave as part of our preparation for Digital Book World. (They will be on the program!) I was aware that Ellora’s Cave existed and vaguely aware that they were an ebook-first publisher, but, not being a romance reader I was not as clued in to them as I should have been. They’re nine years old and the company is quite a story.

I’ll save the story for another time but I want to pass along one piece of wisdom from this morning’s conversation that is relevant to this post. Ellora’s Cave publishes printed-on-demand editions of those books of theirs that they can (many are too short to be print books and are only put into print as part of anthologies.) Raelene explained to us that they generally hold the print book back for 18 months after the ebook is published (and they publish about 10 new titles a week!)

Why does Ellora’s Cave hold back the print book? Because they make more money on the ebooks, of course, even though the print books cost somewhat more! (They have to pay for that paper, presswork, and binding somehow…)

Of course, I’d tell them to just raise the price of the print book for the first 18 months rather than withhold it. They’re making a close cousin to the mistake I’m accusing the conventional publishers of. But at least they’re preserving the higher margin sale, not the lower margin one.

Sometimes being in publishing makes you feel like Alice in Wonderland.

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In the words of Emily Litella, the Saturday Night Live character of the 1970s invented by Gilda Radner, “never mind.”

I’m referring to my post about “debut pricing” from earlier this week. It can’t be done; at least not easily and at least not immediately.

The challenges we face require a continuing conversation and crowds really help. The collective wisdom and knowledge of the growing crowd reading this blog helped me find and face this hole in my own thinking. (It was also a bit of a comfort to be told in the course of previewing this post that other smart and informed people didn’t know what I missed either!)

What I should have known and factored in, but didn’t, is that ebooks aren’t sold like regular books, with a published discount schedule and no contract. Rather, ebook sales between publishers and their customers, whether intermediaries like Content Reserve and Ingram Digital or retailers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble and the Shortcovers business run by the Canadian chain, Indigo, are transacted under contractually defined and mandated terms. What those contracts say is both confidential and variable from publisher to publisher and customer to customer.

So the suggestion I made — that publishers adjust their ebook pricing by changing the discount schedule for newer books — can’t be achieved by unilateral decision of the publisher under most of the contracts that exist today. Any publisher that wants to implement my suggestion would have to wait for their contracts to expire and then negotiate new ones that would allow them to manage their terms of trade in ways that they can’t do now.

I am also told by publishers in the wake of my piece that Amazon has terms in place that very much anticipate the move that I suggested. At least some publishers have terms that tie the pricing of the ebook to the pricing of the print book (the ebook can’t have a higher suggested retail) and that tie the discounting of the ebook to the discounting of the print book. So the publisher couldn’t reduce the discount for the ebook without reducing the discount for the print book at the same time (and one suspects even that flexibility wouldn’t extend to all publishers and all contracts.)

Apparently some contracts go further than locking in the publisher to print book prices and discounts but also require the publisher to subsidize Amazon’s discounting. In one case I was told about, there is a maximum discount Amazon can require to be subsidized based on the publisher set retail price.

On top of their problems with Amazon, a publisher told me that they had contractually given Fictionwise the right to discount their ebooks and commensurately reduce the payment to publishers. For years, the Fictionwise policy was to do very little discounting and usually the discounts were about 10%. According to one publisher, new owner Barnes & Noble saw the opportunity in those terms to cut prices to the consumer dramatically.

So when Dominque Raccah said her choices with Bran Hambric were limited to when and whether to issue an ebook and not much else, she was absolutely right.

What this means is that publishers have largely dealt away control of their businesses, at least for the time being. All they can do right now to defend themselves is to set the retail prices high and let the marketplace do what it will. With competition fierce among the retailers to cut prices to the consumers, the prices at retail will not be as high as the publisher sets them.

A similar contractual situation exists between publishers and the wholesalers Ingram and Content Reserve, where discounts have been negotiated and are in place until multi-year contracts expire. The same situation exists with Sony which would be the next largest account for ebook sales for most commercial publishers.

So at what is really the dawn of the ebook era, publishers have very little leverage to manage the ebook pricing and distribution in the marketplace.

The way that ebooks transactions differ from print books could also argue that ebooks aren’t “sold”, they are “licensed.” That could present another problem for publishers because licensing revenue is often split 50-50; ebook revenues seldom are. Agents are sure to become increasingly aware of the distinction, just as they will be aware that almost all the sales right now can be achieved by making half-a-dozen deals. That’s not very tempting when ebook sales are 5% or 10% of a book’s total. But what about when they reach 25% or more?

There is one big new entrant coming to the ebook game and that’s Google. With the industry (including Google) other than Amazon coalescing around the epub standard, one can see another change in the wind coming. Google has already created a huge challenge to Amazon by making a million titles available in the epub format which Amazon would have to convert to their proprietary code in order to offer on Kindle. (These titles are public domain and the free epub code offered by Google should minimize that conversion cost, but a million times anything amounts to a lot and, whatever it costs, it won’t happen instantaneously.)

Setting up new arrangements with Google presents the next opportunity for publishers to “get it right” and to take back some semblance of control over the products they publish and sell. But Google won’t want to be buying at lower discounts than everybody else and they won’t want to be selling at higher prices than everybody else either.

There are some hard negotiations ahead on the ebook front.

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Three weeks ago, the community had a big discussion about the timing of ebook releases which was triggered by Dominique Raccah’s announcement that Sourcebooks would hold back the ebook of Bran Hambric for some period after the hardcover release. The expressed concern was to insulate the $28.95 hardcover from the price competition currently taking place in the ebook space, where Amazon has started working to establish a $9.99 retail price for new commercial titles, forcing BN.com to match them.

This post doesn’t quarrel with the suggestion that there’s a problem; it is a quest for a better solution.

Although Amazon has pushed some smaller publishers to a different discount structure, the established commercial houses usually sell ebooks to retailers at about 50% off the publisher’s retail price, about the same terms they have established for print books. But ebooks, title for title, add more margin (i.e. profit) to the publisher at the same net revenue because the books don’t have to be manufactured and shipped and there is also no cost of returns. (They would also generate more margin for the stores than print books if they the stores sold them at the same price as the print book, but, as I pointed out in an earlier post, under current practices, they never will.)

Both my “current commercial” and “futurist” instincts say that cutting off the ebook market from purchase at the time the book comes out, is being assertively marketed, and when interest is probably highest, is the wrong strategy.

There are non-pecuniary reasons for publishers to protect the print book sale. Except for the USA Today list, which records Kindle sales but no other ebooks, only print book sales are reported to determine “bestsellers.” And enlightened publishers, including Dominique Raccah, want to protect print book sales to protect brick-and-mortar stores, who are still the most important merchandising and marketing tools publishers have (even if many of them don’t know it.)

To the most avant garde digerati, who advocate eliminating DRM and pushing prices to the consumer down as the antidote to piracy (which the most conservative defenders of the old model would liken to putting a bullet in your brain as an antidote to having taken poison), keeping the book off the market to maintain higher content prices is multi-faceted anathema. Among the inevitable consequences of this, they would tell you, is that there will be more pirated editions available and otherwise-inclined-to-be-honest consumers will be “forced” to the pirate editions because a legitimate ebook edition is not available.

I am not a 100%-no-DRM guy. (Actually, I’m a nearly-100%-social-DRM guy.) And while I believe that the price of content is in an inexorably downward spiral, to the point that the day will come some years from now that it won’t be much of a business to control and sell it, I also believe publishers (and authors) need to preserve content margins as effectively as they can for as long as they can to finance the transition to the new publishing economy where eyeballs and human bandwidth, not IP, are the currency of the realm.

I was surprised recently when a Very Smart Friend defended the Sourcebooks strategy by saying, in effect, “what’s so special about the ebook consumer? The paperback reader waits for the book to get it cheaper; why not have the ebook reader wait for the book to get it cheaper?” My argument that the ebook readers and print book readers are two separate markets carried no weight. First of all, there’s also a split between paperback readers and hardcover readers. But also, my debate opponent simply didn’t buy my paradigm, and frankly, it is currently unprovable.

But I still find the Sourcebooks solution very unsatisfying. I think it hurts the overall sale of the book and the profits of both publisher and author in the long run. Although I think the impact is marginal, I have to agree that ebook readers will more frequently obtain a pirated edition if no legitimate edition is available. And it is “unnatural”. The publisher’s job is to get the author’s work in front of as many paying eyeballs as possible and to generate as much revenue as possible in the process. This strategy works against those objectives.

So here’s another solution, one that:

1. Allows the publisher to sell the ebook at the same time as the print book;

2. Makes it much harder for retailers to discount the ebook way below the print book price; and,

3. Increases the profit to the publisher and author on every ebook sold.

For the first six months of a hot new book’s life, publishers should establish “debut pricing”: reducing the discount at which they are sold to the trade to 20%. And, at the same time, the publishers should sell these ebooks as digital downloads from their own site at full retail price. After the early “debut pricing” period, the discounts are restored to normal, but the publisher’s own site should still continue to sell at full retail (except as part of bundle or subscription offers, of course.)

In the Bran Hambric example, where the book is $28.95, let’s say the ebook were priced at $26.95. Then a retailer (Amazon) buying at 50% off would pay Sourcebooks $13.475 per copy and have to take a hit of $3.485 per copy to sell the book at $9.99. But under my suggestion above, the retailer would be paying $21.56 per copy for the book and the cost of subsidy would jump to $11.57 a copy. That’s more than 3.3 times the amount per copy in the cost to the retailer to support the $9.99 price.

The math for impact on the publisher and author is a bit more complicated. How much additional profit over print books this would represent depends on what the print books cost to manufacture and what the split of revenue is between publisher and author. But it is likely that a change to this policy would mean that each ebook sold would generate  more than twice as much profit to the publisher as a printed book for the period of “debut pricing” discounting.

“Debut pricing ” is not a tactic that will work forever. We’re going to see accelerating change in the way ebook publishing works, including enhanced editions subsequent to the first one that will differentiate the ebook from the print book as we proceed into the digital age. But for the next couple of years, as we start to see ebooks take more and more share from print, this is a way for publishers to keep the pricing of ebooks closer to print books and earn more profits, for themselves and for their authors, at the same time.

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In three prior posts, we’ve explored the initial conversation that surrounded the announcement that Sourcebooks would delay the ebook release of Bran Hambric; sketched out what we think are the four stages of ebook adoption; and looked at how publishers see the early “establishment” stage, which is where we are now.

This post is about the other stakeholders: authors, retailers, distributors, and, of course, readers.

In the “vision” stage of ebook adoption, which ended with the launch of the Kindle in November 2007, authors were virtually powerless. With ebook sales even for established books struggling to make triple digits, publishers were gunshy about accepting digitization costs for books other than the biggest sellers and it hardly made sense for authors to make the investment on their own. With the exception of genre fiction, particularly romance and sci-fi, where vertical audiences were able to cluster early, the ebook world was inhospitable to the author working on her (or his) own.

That has changed dramatically. Today Amazon Kindle as well as web services Scribd and Smashwords make it easy for an author to upload a pdf or doc file and publish an ebook. While Amazon appears to be paying authors only about 35% of the selling price to access its army of device users, Scribd (80%) and Smashwords (85%) pay much more. Barnes & Noble’s ebook announcement yesterday didn’t mention author-generated ebook content, but with their goal being clearly to offer as many titles as they can, one must assume they’ll figure out a way to get at it too. So there is a clear path to the public developing for anybody with ebookable content; the challenge will be driving audiences to the content.

At each end of the bell curve, the publisher doesn’t contribute much to that equation. Small books and unknown authors often get little or no support from a publisher; big books and big authors often don’t need help to alert the public to their content. So after several years of publishers driving down ebook royalties to the current Major League standards of 15% of retail or 25% of net, we can expect to see the pendulum swing back to the author. Big authors will negotiate far higher ebook royalty rates; small authors will turn down small advances in favor of self-publishing as the ebook market grows (and the physical books, remember, can be delivered through a variety of POD self-publishing options.)

The biggest book retailers basically stayed out of the ebook game during the vision stage. Both Barnes & Noble and Amazon made a pass at the ebook business, but gave up on it pretty quickly (although Amazon first bought the Mobipocket format, which became the foundation for the Kindle software.) That made sense; there was too small a market early in this decade to occupy the attention of corporations doing billions in sales on printed books.

There were other complications which ultimately left ebook retailing to the smaller players. Early in the vision stage, the two big formats for handhelds were Palm, which displayed on Palm Pilots, and Microsoft’s dot lit, which displayed on handhelds that used the Windows operating system. Adobe Reader software, which was installed on PCs, began back then and has been used continuously to this day. Early in the decade, Palm’s model was to keep control of the sale of Palm ebooks, first through “Peanut Press” and then through the “Palm Digital” store. That meant no other ebook retailer could sell Palm books. When Palm became, by far, the preferred format for handheld ebook reading, they left the general ebook retailers, including B&N, without access to the heaviest users of ebooks on devices.

Mobipocket was created as a cross-platform ebook reader that would work on both Windows and Palm software. The first indication that Amazon would look for a path to ebook hegemony was when they bought Mobipocket in 2005 (they bought BookSurge, the print-on-demand capability, at about the same time.) But even though Mobi ebooks would play on multiple platforms, the market was apparently too small to interest Amazon.

The Palm Digital store became Ereader in 2007 and the Ereader platform, just bought by Barnes & Noble, will work on almost all devices (except Kindle and Sony Reader) now. In the final years of the vision stage, before Kindle, ebooks were sold by independent bookstores (Powells being the most successful) and dedicated ebooksellers like Diesel ebooks. Discounts off publishers’ established prices were only offered in targeted and time-limited promotions and seldom offered even as much as 10% reductions. The stores were “powered” primarily by Ingram Digital, which replicates its print-world role as a digital wholesaler. Competing with Ingram was an upstart company in Cleveland called OverDrive, whose wholesaling operation is called Content Reserve. Content Reserve became the primary supplier of ebooks to libraries.

When Sony Reader came on the scene in September 2006, publishers had four formats to convert their ebooks to: Palm, Microsoft dot lit, Adobe, and Sony. Adobe, which played on PCs, was at that time by far the market leader in titles available and sales. But publishers, still seeing very little market, would not necessarily convert each ebook into all formats. At a time when Adobe had over 100,000 titles available, there were perhaps 40,000 on Palm and fewer than that on Microsoft or Sony.

Amazon’s arrival with the Kindle changed everything: title availability jumped, prices were slashed, delivery was vastly simplified, and the biggest online book-buying audience in the world was constantly pushed to think about ebook reading. That signaled the shift from the vision stage to the establishment stage.

Another critical development that enabled the movement from the vision stage to establishment was the development of the epub format by the International Digital Publishing Forum, the ebook trade association, facilitating use of ebook content across platforms.

Now in the establishment stage, the big book retailers — Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Canada’s Indigo — are in, competing in every possible way: price, selection, and merchandising. B&N and Indigo are trying to appeal to ebook readers regardless of the device they want to use. Amazon has suggested they’ll go that way, but so far are only pushing the Kindle format for Kindle or iPhone. Prices at Amazon and at B&N are clearly being subsidized in pursuit of a larger customer base. That is going to make things very difficult for the independents or any new entrants to make a go of ebook retailing.

As we proceed in the establishment stage, we can expect publishers to start selling digital downloads and we can expect most web sites to offer vertically-curated offerings. The big horizontal aggregators will thrive for the next few years as the market grows, but the verticalization of consumer attention will eventually chip away at their sales.

The distributors are, or have been, Ingram and Content Reserve. (I say “have been” because Barnes & Noble’s just-announced deal to power the Plastic Logic content offering  positions them as a competitor to Ingram as a digital wholesaler, although there is no suggestion as to how far they want to go and, as of now, several days after the announcement, nobody else to my knowledge has raised this point.) CR has recently done a deal to provide service through Ingram’s print-world competitor, Baker & Taylor. The subsidized discounting taking place at Amazon and B&N is going to make it very difficult for the distributors’ horizontal customers. Ingram may recognize this problem as being similar to what they faced when they tried to launch ebook wholesaling the first time in the late 1990s and Amazon responded with deep discounting.

The distributors have to find new opportunities through web sites that don’t think of themselves as content-centric or content-sellers now (they’re communities.) The trick will be to curate the set of offerings in a very granular way, but there is a marketplace that will develop there that will be served by aggregators.

For ebook readers, it is definitely the best of times, so far. Because of the epub standard developed by the IDPF, most ebooks can be offered for use on multiple devices without high conversion costs (which, in any case, are easier to bear now that there are real sales.) More and more titles are available and, despite the Sourcebooks experiment that triggered this series of posts, we are moving to a standard of ebook release when the book first comes out. I believe we’ll start to see ebook releases ahead of the book before long. The competitors have prices of the content to the consumer plunging. The choice of devices is proliferating and, of course, that means the devices will cost less in the future too. The deployment of smartphones that can also be used as book readers continues to increase. The pieces are in place for evolution to turn to revolution and, when it has, a few years from now, we will move from the establishment stage to “transition”. That’s when the printed-book world as we have known it for about the last century will change into something completely different.

Due to a little programming change we did, I haven’t been alerted to comments and I haven’t been answering them for a little while. I will clean this up on Friday (and then this message will disappear…)

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This post is part of a growing set initiated by the Sourcebooks experiment holding back an ebook from simultaneous publication with an upcoming hardcover. It is the second (link to the first below) and will be followed by at least one more, as the conclusion of this post makes clear.

To talk sensibly about the Sourcebooks experiment with Bran Hambric, we need to sketch out some context. Trying to provide it will be the objective of this post. A couple of caveats before we begin:

We are talking here about narrative fiction and non-fiction: books that don’t need illustration or design-intensity to get their content across.

And we are talking about books intended for general audiences: trade books.

The first caveat matters because it describes the technical challenges of presenting the content and the second because it defines the commercial parameters for all the players (and the players will be the subject of a subsequent post.) Content that is delivered to more structured and organized markets, such as we see in academia or corporations, has a very different set of commercial realities.

There will eventually prove to be four distinct stages of ebook adoption, and what makes sense for all the players will change as we move from one to another. The four stages are vision, establishment, transition, and the new marketplace.

The first stage, vision, which started in the late 1990s, will be seen to have ended when the Kindle was launched in November of 2007. This was when ebooks attained a minimal market, substantially less than 1% of total trade sales. In that stage, we had the development of the ePub standard, which could be a permanently useful efficiency for the market. We also had the establishment of basic terms of trade, giving intermediaries approximately the same margins based on the publishers’ suggested retail price that they have had in the physical print-book world. (In my opinion, that will not prove to be so helpful.) Author royalties in publishing’s Big Leagues seem to have settled at either 15% of the publisher’s suggested retail or 25% of the publisher’s revenue, another formula that will be challenged by market forces. We have learned a lot about the futility and frustration surrounding DRM. And publishers have tried to establish ebook pricing that tracks the printed book availability at any time, generally listing the ebook at about the same or a buck or two cheaper than the lowest-priced print edition available.

The second stage, establishment, started with the Kindle. This is when ebooks are much more obviously headed for their ultimate central position in consumer trade book publishing. Ebooks are moving from making a negligible commercial contribution to each book to measureable value, a shift which could be said to have occurred. Many major books are now getting nearly half their Amazon sales from Kindle and other ebook sales are growing as well. Publishers are seeing ebook sales that have tripled as a percentage of their total sales in the past 12-to-18 months. In this stage we are also seeing — and will see more — new players enter the game. Amazon’s device play was followed by software launches from Apple (more than one, including Amazon, from the App Store) and Indigo (a smartphone application called Shortcovers which is part of the iPhone expansion). The Kindle device was preceeded by the Sony Reader; there have been UK-based launches of an independent competitor (Cool-er Reader) and one from Borders UK called Elonex; and strong rumors suggest that both Barnes & Noble and Indigo will deliver their own devices very soon. There are others as well. In this establishment stage, ebook revenues are growing, though they are not yet sufficient to change the overall power relationships in the publishing value chain. But because so many devices and channels are competing to get established and because of the high physical-world discounts, publishers have completely lost control of consumer-facing pricing at the title level.

The third stage, the beginning of which I reckon is about 1-to-3 years off, will be the transition stage. Since I’m inventing this paradigm, I’ll declare arbitrarily that the transition stage will begin when it becomes common for ebook sales to be as much as half the sales of ebookable titles (see the caveats above) and trade houses are seeing their overall unit sales (including the many books, still most juveniles and other highly illustrated titles they all publish that are not “ebookable”) grow steadily from 10% of total sales with no end in sight. In the transition stage, we will start to see real shifts in the value chain. Devices that can only import from a single source (such as the Kindle is today) will fade in importance (if, indeed, there are any left by then.) The number of potential purchase points will explode, as many web sites offer some sort of ebook-readable content, a great deal of it free, but lots of it based on the prices set by publishers. Large horizontal aggregators (Amazon, B&N, and the full-line bookstores that build their offerings from wholesalers) will struggle to hold onto a large and loyal customer base as the vertical web increasingly takes hold. Almost all publishers will be among the zillions of sites offering direct downloads to consumers, many through explicit verticals that sell the books of their competitors (as Macmillan’s tor.com sci-fi site, presciently, is doing today.) DRM will gradually disappear but policing commercial-level piracy will become much more effective because the entire industry will be fighting it. What Scribd is doing to fight piracy — using their archived content to locate pirated material posted by site visitors — will be more widespread and collaborative. There’s a real opportunity for a search engine to offer a service here that somebody will take, and then all will follow.

And the fourth stage, the new marketplace, will have arrived when ebook sales dominate and printed book sales shift primarily to short-run and print-on-demand, except for the very biggest titles. This will happen with accelerating speed when sales pass the point of being 40 or 50 percent digital overall, possibly within a decade. When ebooks become the “norm”, prominent authors will have less need for publishers and ebooks will be routinely updated and enhanced and linked to other content in ways that printed books simply cannot match. In the new marketplace, printed books will have very specific uses: tokens and souvenirs, delivery of certain material that makes great use of large presentation surfaces, and, of course, enabling those who are too old, too poor, or just too stubbornly luddite to make the shift to screen-reading that will have become ubiquitous by then.

In the next post on this subject we will really address the Bran Hambric experiment. We’ll tackle how the various stages of ebook development affect each of the stakeholders: authors, publishers, retailers, wholesalers, and, of course, readers. The context of the stages allows us to make sense of the issues of 1) timing, 2) pricing, 3) DRM, and 4) the content itself, and the marketplace impact of each of the four from the standpoint of each stakeholder. And we’ll see that the challenges Sourcebooks is responding to are symptomatic of what publishers face in the early establishment stage.

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The Wall Street Journal was the first to announce, on Monday, (behind a pay wall, but Google “Publisher Delays E-book Amid Debate On Pricing” and you’ll get it) that Sourcebooks CEO Dominique Raccah was holding back the ebook publication of a new hardcover YA novel, Bran Hambric, scheduled for release this September. Raccah’s explanation to the Journal was that she was trying to preserve the perception that the $27 hardcover price was reasonable. Since she knew that any ebook would hit the street at just under $10 (the Kindle promotional price is $9.99 and B&N has suggested that their promotional price will be $9.95), Raccah felt that sales of the hardcover would be undermined.

What was left unsaid in the Journal piece was that Raccah might have been leaving money on the table with this decision. After all, the publisher still sells ebooks on roughly equivalent terms to printed books and has lower costs. So, depending on the royalties Raccah is paying the author, she is (most likely) realizing more margin for Sourcebooks on the ebook sale than on the printed book sale, regardless of how the retailer prices it.

Even more startling (in this day and age) is the possibility that the author’s royalty is higher per copy on the hardcover, so Raccah might be protecting author royalties, to the extent that withholding the ebook restrained cannibalization and resulted in more hardcover sales. I mention that possibility because the agent for author Kaleb Nation is Richard Curtis, one of the most ebook-friendly agents in town (and, indeed, the owner of an ebook publisher called EReads), who was quoted in the Journal supporting Raccah’s decision.

On Wednesday, Motoko Rich and Brad Stone published a piece in the Times on the same story (in which I was very briefly quoted.) Rich and Stone added some nuance to the story. The Journal said that agent Robert Gottlieb resisted simultaneous ebook publication “when he can prevent it.” In the same graf, they said that only one book of the Times’s Top 15 fiction bestsellers was not available in the Kindle store. Of course, that doesn’t mean that the Kindle editions were available at any particular time in relation to the first release of the hardcover, just that they are available now.

The Times reporting went further than the Journal, speaking to several publishers of upcoming major books about their ebook timing plans. Doubleday hasn’t decided yet about Dan Brown’s book but acknowledges that the impact of ebook sales on the hardcover was a consideration. S&S won’t reveal their ebook release plan for Stephen King’s November novel, Under the Dome. Ditto from Hachette imprint “Twelve” on the Ted Kennedy autobiography, True Compass, coming on October 6.

So the fact that everybody is thinking hard about this is confirmed by the Times’s reporting.

But Cader, who as an industry expert and blogger has more scope and credibility to report unattributed information than reporters at WSJ or the Times, went further in Publishers Lunch on Thursday. He ridiculed the notion that Doubleday was (according to a spokesperson)  ”[more] worried about…security…than particular vendors” and he sees the motivation from publishers being to control the behemoth, Amazon. As Cader reports it, Kindle sales surged when the new device(s) came out, becoming as much as 50% or even 70% of Amazon’s sales of many important books.

Everybody (in the industry, but maybe not outside of it) knows that Amazon pays a standard discount for ebooks, which is about 50% off publisher suggested retail, and that Amazon actually takes a loss on a $25 or $27 hardcover book it sells through Kindle at $9.99 (as B&N will do if they follow through to sell books like this as ebooks for $9.95.) Nobody expects Amazon to do this forever although, as Cader points out, they are temporarily subsidized by the profit they make selling the Kindle devices. The widespread fear among the big publishers is that Amazon will soon demand lower prices for the books they put on Kindle so they can keep the $9.99 price point profitably.  As the Kindle unit sales grow, of course, the muscle behind such a potential demand would grow right along with it.

Cader makes the very important point that sales migrating to ebooks, and particularly to Kindle, weaken the brick-and-mortar channel that publishers depend on for most of their sales and profits. The Times reported that publishers could well be making bigger unit profits on each Kindle sale than on each printed book sale (a fact that I explained to them when I was interviewed and which appeared not to be clear to them before I did). Cader (who of course knew that without needing to be told by me or by the Times) makes the point that publishers do this because they are “looking out for what they believe to be their long-term interests — and are trying to protect the entire system of physical book retailing which supports the whole industry.”

While this was happening, Dominique Raccah posted her thoughts to Peter Brantley’s Amazing List and Kassia Krozser, on that list and proprietor of the Booksquare blog, turned her space over to Dominique for a version of that post. Dominique made it clear that she considered what she was doing with Bran Hambric to be an experiment. Her focus was on a “sustainable author/publisher model”. She made the point (again, clear to most people in publishing but perhaps not to those outside) that the music business continues to present inapplicable analogies, but one of the most egregious is that authors should give it away like musicians to get performance bookings: in publishing, there are no performance bookings (and few t-shirt sales…)

Raccah made it clear that she supports early ebook releases and her house is going to a workflow that will enable that. But then she gets to what is really the heart of the matter. “Etailers are suggesting that the ‘right’ price point for an ebook is maximally $9.99.  And they are proselytizing the price $9.99.  We can’t control what retailers charge for books or ebooks.” The publisher’s choices are whether and when to make it available and whether to sell to any particular retailer.

From there she explains that exploiting formats with “windows” is an old book business strategy (hardcover, trade paperback, mass-market paperback) and a common film strategy (theatrical precedes DVD release, with TV licensing once part of that picture as well, but not anymore.) And she concludes by saying that publishers need to make these decisions on a book-by-book basis (”strategically”, she says, although I’d call that “tactically.”)

My quote, by the way, was to the effect that ebook readers and print book readers are increasingly separate markets, which I believe to be true but cannot prove. A C-level friend at a large house disagrees with me, as I’m sure many others do, and my evidence on this is highly anecdotal (including myself: I have read one printed book of the 50 or so I’ve read in the past 18 months.) But my friend would have no more evidence than I to support his contrary position, so publishers will have to make decisions without really knowing, for now, whether they can push a Kindle or Shortcovers or Ereader consumer back to paper by denying or delaying a book.

That concludes the summary. I have a few thoughts of my own to add on this. I’ll be posting those shortly, probably over the weekend. I hate going much over 1000 words on any single day, and I’m already past 1200.

An  earlier version of this post had a couple of errors misconneting agents and authors which have been repaired. So if somebody tells you about a mistake they saw that you can’t find, that’s what it’s all about. Thanks to Michael Cader for setting me straight.

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