Evan Schnittman

The idea of an “Ebook Tipping Point” panel for Digital Book World arose when I wrote a blogpost last August on the occasion of the regular monthly release of the IDPF’s ebook sales figures. It was clear then that very substantial percentages of the sale of new narrative fiction and non-fiction were going to move through ebook channels and this post raised the point that this would be disruptive right after Dominque Raccah and Sourcebooks started last Fall’s cascade of strategic moves by publishers to try to slow things down, at least for Kindle.

In October, really writing about the same situation I predicted that major publishers would be challenged to cope with the problem of de-scaling.

When I wrote the August post, I was in the early stages of organizing the program for Digital Book World and I decided to put together the “Ebook Tipping Point” panel. I knew that current C-level executives, focused as they must be on making numbers for this quarter and this year, not to mention always having to be aware of the impact their statements could have on their companies, wouldn’t be the right panelists. So I just decided to recruit the four savviest people I knew — about ebook publishing, about the finances of publishing houses, and about the ecosystem publishers live in — to discuss the topic with me on stage.

Yesterday that panel — Ken Brooks of Cengage; Michael Cader of Publishers Lunch; Larry Kirshbaum, ex-TimeWarner Books CEO and currently a literary agent; and Evan Schnittman of Oxford University Press — met in my office for a preliminary conversation to help me formulate the questions that will trigger the discussions.

Ken Brooks is my go-to person for all things related to ebooks and digital production. He the SVP, Global Production & Manufacturing Services at Cengage Learning. Before that, Ken created and sold a company called Publishing Dimensions that did digital format conversions in the early ebook days. He’s run warehouses and other operations for Bantam and Simon & Schuster and he even had a brief stint setting up an early attempt at ebook distribution for BN.com ten years ago.

Michael Cader is the creator Publishers Lunch and Publishers Marketplace, the new nexus for conversation and information about the publishing business, which he developed from scratch starting with a free email newsletter less than ten years ago. Before that, he was a book packager. Cader is the single person who knows more about book publishing — the people, the deals, the business practices, the view of the business from the standpoint of the investment community — than anybody else I’ve ever met.

Larry Kirshbaum turned over the reins at TimeWarner Publishing to David Young three years ago, just before the company was sold to Hachette. He was known for his eye for bestsellers and his ability to make them work. Since then, he’s been a literary agent. Kirshbaum knows exactly what it is like to run a big publishing company; he did it for more than two decades.

Evan Schnittman is Vice President, Business Development & Rights at Oxford University Press. In that role, Evan combines the zeal and focus of a sales executive with targets to hit with the vision of a strategic digital thinker, a very unusual combination. Oxford is a university press, of course, not a trade house, but they have a trade list big enough to make them real players in that sandbox. Evan knows and understands trade, but he has the objectivity and vision of somebody who is not entirely dependent on that business. He’s also a really entertaining and insightful blogger.

One scorecard worth keeping is this: Brooks, Kirshbaum, and I were all sure ten years ago that ebooks would happen much faster than they did. Cader was sure they wouldn’t. Michael has been the hardest among us to persuade that ebooks would substantially displace print anytime soon.

We had a rollicking two hour conversation that would have entertained anybody who could have heard it. I am not going to steal the panel’s thunder by revealing much about it except to say that there was a strong consensus that big publisher overheads are going to have to shrink dramatically, and soon. Michael Cader is particularly articulate — and particularly experienced — about the point that legacy businesses carry legacy cost structures that handicap them making a transition to a new paradigm. He lived that advantage as the David that slew the Goliath of PW.

So I awoke this morning to get the news in my mailbox that Simon & Schuster has redesigned its sales coverage to be “more phone”. Cheaper. Less overhead. But also (likely) less effective and (certainly) less differentiated from what any small publisher based anywhere can do.

So what distinguishes the big publishers from their competition are the capabilities of “scale.” And the albatross for big publishers going forward is the cost of “scale.” This is a tough box to get out of.

I think some eyes are going to be opened when this panel takes the stage on Wednesday, January 27.

I am getting increasingly excited about the 2-day Digital Book World conference coming up January 26-27. Now that the work of recruiting nearly 100 speakers and moderators (and, boy, do we have GREAT moderators!) is done, I am able to take some satisfaction from the body of work. (Take a look.) I am also really appreciative of the great marketing job that has been done by our partners in this endeavor, F+W Media. Just about everybody really is going to be there. Are you?

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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 Brooks, Michael Cader, Larry 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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In a post last week we reviewed what Sourcebook CEO Dominque Raccah did — announcing she was holding back the ebook publication of a new hardcover YA novel coming this September — and why she said she did it. Over the weekend, we posted about what we see as the four stages of ebook adoption. Today we will examine how one ebook stakeholder — the publisher — is affected by the change from a no-ebook world 10 years ago to what will be a largely- (if not mostly-) ebook world 10 years from now.

The first stage of ebook adoption, which we called “vision”, ended with the appearance of the Kindle. In that period of roughly 10 years, ebooks found early adopters who read them on PCs and handheld PDAs. The dedicated ebook devices introduced early in the vision period (Rocketbook and Softbook) went nowhere. The Sony Reader came along at the end of the vision period. It is an e-ink device quite similar in size to the Kindle 1 and 2, but without two critical components that gave Kindle an edge: a much larger body of titles to choose from and direct connectivity from the device to the source of the titles. There were other advantages Kindle had (the massive Amazon online book-buying audience) and that they presented (the built-in dictionary), but the title selection and connectivity were key.

Amazon quickly added a third advantage: the price of the books in the Kindle store went way lower than anybody expected because Amazon was willing to sell the individual titles at a loss to grow the market for the devices. The net effect was to propel ebook adoption from the vision stage to the establishment stage, which is where we are now.

Ebooks were not a priority concern to publishers at the time the Kindle came out. There had been too many false alarms. In 2000, both Arthur Andersen and Forrester Research offered projections for a multi-billion dollar ebook market which was to appear by 2005. Nothing close to that happened. In the vision stage, only the visionaries cared, inside the publishing houses and among the readers. Sales grew in fits and starts but when the Kindle came out were still well under 1% of units or dollars for every major trade publisher.

Because the dollars weren’t big, business decisions were not hard-fought and probably not well thought out. Publishers used the retail price of the prevailing print edition as their benchmark, with most setting the ebook price at nearly that level. After some turn-of-the-century feelgood talk about 50-50 splits with authors, royalties settled at about 25% of net or 15% of publisher suggested retail. Agents accepted it, at least partly because, whatever the percentage, there wasn’t enough ebook revenue at stake to be worth fighting a publisher offering an attractive print book deal.

It should be noted that the big accomplishment of the vision stage was the creation of the International Digital Publishing Forum (IDPF) and the creation of the epub standard, which drives most ebooks today with the exception of Kindle, which Amazon keeps in their own special flavor of mobipocket format, and ScrollMotion, where the content comes embedded in the company’s proprietary app.

There was very little thinking necessary about the ebook’s impact on the sales of the printed book because ebook uptake was so limited. In fact, there became a growing body of evidence that giving away the ebook would stimulate sales of the printed book. Lost in the thrill of that discovery was the likely underlying reason: people didn’t want to read ebooks so when they were given something digitally that they started reading and liked, they’d buy the printed version to finish it. Now that we’ve moved from the “vision” stage where most people don’t read on screens to the “establishment” stage when many do, we’re likely to find the stimulative effect of ebook giveaways will be diluted, if not eliminated.

Another fact that made little difference in the vision stage but matters more and more now is that ebook sales are not reported to the bestseller list. So even if ebook availability (at Amazon’s much lower price) only cannibalizes a fraction of printed book sales, it could affect a book’s bestseller chances or placement.

Since the actual profits from ebook units are higher than they are for print books if the publisher price is the same (unless the publisher has cut an unusually generous deal with the author for royalties), this decision by Sourcebooks — which is being watched and contemplated by other publishers — must be motivated by something more complex than the publisher’s profit per unit sold.

In PublishersLunch, Michael Cader reviewed this decision and seemed to suggest that it was largely about taming the Amazon beast. I seldom disagree with Cader, but I don’t buy that argument in this particular case. It would take a very foolish publisher to publicly stick their thumb in Amazon’s eye (and Dominique Raccah is not foolish). And a one-off experiment of this kind does not seem like an approach that would affect Amazon much one way or the other.

What Dominique said in her post was that she didn’t want aggressive ebook pricing to devalue the high-priced hardcover. She believes that higher-priced editions are critical for the publisher and the author to maximize revenues so she prefers to slot ebooks into a “staged release” strategy resembling what publishing has done (hardcover, trade paperback, mass-market paperback) and what Hollywood has done (theatrical release then DVD.)

Before we evaluate that idea, let’s look ahead to the further stages of ebook adoption. In the current establishment stage, we can expect the number of ebook channels and vendors to proliferate. In that environment, the resellers will do everything they can to keep prices down. They will subsidize individual product sales from device margins or anticipated longtime customer value. If Amazon is willing to swallow a hit of two or three bucks a unit with virtually no competion, what will they do now that B&N and soon Indigo also have devices? B&N has announced that they will match Amazon’s $9.99 flagship price and they are clearly charting a course of appealing to all devices (insofar as they can) with their ebook store. And B&N content will power another device competitor, Plastic Logic, in early 2010.

This period of loss-creating discounting by retailers won’t last forever, but it will last until the market stablizes, which will take several years. While that happens, the number of ebook points of purchase for the consumer will mushroom, which is good news for publishers. At the same time, propositions like Scribd and Smashwords will disrupt the in-supply-chain pricing; Scribd offers publishers 80% of retail and Smashwords pays 85%. As the devices proliferate, so will the tools to make it easy to put ebooks from those sources on the devices. If Amazon has disrupted the publishers’ hopes of controlling ebook pricing, might not Scribd and Smashwords disrupt the retailers who took away that control?

Evan Schnittman makes the point that holding back the ebook has consequences. It dilutes the impact of the publisher’s marketing efforts. It could encourage piracy. Evan’s solution is an introductory promotional price that is raised when initial demand has ebbed and he has a notion (which I don’t quite understand) of how publishers can get retailers to collaborate on that. I don’t think that’s the answer. First of all: it strikes me as backwards. The ebook price should be a dollar more than the print book for the 3 weeks or so before the print book comes out when an ebook could be available. Then it should be the same as the print book for the first couple of months so that it doesn’t disturb the bestseller list possibilities. Then it should drop sharply to reflect the lower cost (to publisher and retailer) of providing ebooks.

Now that’s a great theory I just posited; unfortunately there is no way to implement it. All retailers will try to beat each other on price and ebooks constitute a much less expensive place for them to subidize a low-price perception than print.

Sourcebooks — any publisher — wants to maximize revenue for themselves and for their author. To the extent that Sourcebooks can preserve hardcover bestseller status by holding back the ebook, it makes sense to do it. But beyond that, it doesn’t. Retailers selling at a loss are good for the revenue of publishers; it is their margin they are giving away to increase sales for everybody. Would Sourcebooks, or any publisher, refuse to make a book available to a price club or mass merchant because they’d sell at a deep discount? I’m not aware of one that ever did.

If I were Amazon, I’d enlist 10 publishers to try selling their ebook 10 days before the printed book was on sale and use the data to prove (most likely) that the digital head start propels early print sales. Seems at least as likely to me than that early or simultaneous release of the digital version reduces them.

Aside from the new ebook device and retailing entrants we can expect in the next few months, another flashpoint will arrive when publishers start to sell digital downloads themselves, which all of them will by a year or two from now. The discounts publishers offer and the price war among retailers will put publishers in an extremely difficult position. When publishers sell their books at a discount (which they will absolutely have to do), retailers will be knocking at their virtual door saying “I thought my discount was off your price. I want my discount off the price you really sell at, not the price you made up that nobody sells at!” And that’s when the publishers who hadn’t seen it earlier will know that the discount structure has to change.

In the next post on this subject, we’ll look at what other stakeholders have to look forward to as ebook adoption continues. And we’ll see another reason why the publisher-to-retailer discounts will come under pressure: authors will be demanding, and getting, a bigger piece of the ebook pie.

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Evan Schnittman at Black Plastic Glasses posted the final chunk of a 3-parter yesterday that contained a real shocker (to me) at the end. The 3-part post shows through Evan’s personal experience that a) we now insist that content come when we want it and how we want it and b) the very existence of that level of content and connectivity choice can, in and of itself, discourage long-form consumption.

OK. True and pretty well-written. But the “news” (to me; I know there’s a world out there that must have been aware of it) at the end is much more startling than the personal reporting and interpretation.

It turns out there is a clause in the 1978 copyright law that allows any author to reclaim any copyright despite any contract with a publisher, simply by serving notice. The copyright can be reclaimed no less than 35 years and no more than 40 years from the book’s original publication. So books published in 1978 can be reclaimed by their authors from 2013-2018.

It would appear that publishers have a new rights-related challenge to consider. While they’re getting all their ducks in a row (and rights in a database) to respond to the orphan challenges that will arise through the Google settlement, they might also be checking their backlist revenue to see if any of it is in jeopardy. And they also might be checking their competitors’ backlists as well, to see if there are titles they should be going after.

In trying to do a fast look at what might be available, I googled for “books published in 1978.” What was interesting was to see that what comes up is all about verticals! It says something to me that this kind of information is already being naturally organized by niche.

The number of books yielding substantial revenue today that are 35 to 40 years old is small, but it looks like a new payday has been set up for those that exist. And because notice of these potential terminations can be given 10 years before the effective date, the Copyright Office has been getting correspondence on this matter since 2003. They have even been modifying the rules for those notices.

According to the Copyright Office’s material on the web site, it appears a deadline is not too distant. Notice must be served “not more than ten nor less than two years” before the “effective date.” So if one published a book on February 1, 1978 and wanted to get the rights back on February 1, 2013 (the earliest possible “effective date”), they would have to serve notice by February 1, 2011.

One wonders how many agents are aware of this law and are preparing for it. Certainly the big publishers must be. I am just finding it a bit surprising that the existence of this looming opportunity for authors has not arisen with all the recent conversation about copyright arising out of the Google settlement.

Don’t forget May 28 at 11 am at Javits Center when I’ll be talking about how today’s publishers can “Stay Ahead of the Shift.” What’s the shift? It’s from IT to eyeballs, from monetizing content to monetizing community. It will be 20 years in the making; a subtext of this speech is “a lot happens in 20 years.” Think about the book business 20 years ago; or the newspaper business…

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The NY Times Book Review published a piece on advances online today to which I was first pointed by Twitter early this morning. I couldn’t tell whether author Michael Meyer was “for ‘em or agin’ ‘em”. On the one hand, he seemed to suggest that publishers are inclined to overpay, and he cites Public Affairs head Peter Osnos very forcefully saying that it just isn’t necessary for publishers to get sucked into a high advance by market pressures. On the other hand, Meyer demonstrates through author testimony how little even a $100,000 advance is in relation to the time and effort required to write a book. 

Advances against royalties paid by publishers to authors, like returns (one of last week’s topics), are often misunderstood and subject to flawed analysis. Here are a few general thoughts about them.

1. It is critical to understand that an “unearned advance” (that is: a book on which the advance paid by the publisher exceeds the royalties earned by the author) is not equivalent to an “unprofitable book.” Author royalties of 15% of retail (the top “standard” hardcover royalty for a book of narrative writing) amounts to about 27-32% of the publisher’s receipts after trade discounts. Since unit manufacturing cost is about 15-20% of receipts, and the publisher has other direct costs that aren’t based in units sold (design and the 21st century equivalent of “typesetting”, book jacket creation, marketing expenses, and returns and overstock), it is roughly true that the author shares profits with the publisher 50-50. So if the author’s advance ends up delivering a royalty of 17% or 20% or even 25% of receipts, which is the net effect of an unearned advance, the publisher might well still have made money.

2. What publishers really care about (or, at least, really should care about) is how fast their cash turns over. That portion of an advance paid “on publication” might actually only be floated for a very short time. In the case of a book where a publisher has foreign rights to sell, it is even possible for the publisher to make deals that recapture the advance before it is paid. Those situations aren’t common, but they do occur. Shifting the advance payments so that they occur later make advances much easier for publishers to bear. I was involved in one deal where the advance was in quarters and the last quarter was paid on paperback publication, which occurred over a year after the hardcover publication. Some “advances” aren’t paid in “advance.”

3. The publisher quoted as being skeptical of the need to be sucked into paying outsized advances, Peter Osnos, runs a small house that is owned and distributed through a larger network. PublicAffairs doesn’t have to “feed the beast” — provide sufficient volume to cover the high fixed costs of publishing operations: warehouse, infrastructure, and the biggest part of overheads. The CEOs of the major houses have to be sure that enough volume will go through their operations each year to sustain them. That means that “guaranteed” volume is of premium value and agents, knowing that, can command a premium price. The sales coming from mega-books from mega-authors (on which mega-advances are paid) keep the big house’s doors open for everybody else. In other words, a house that pays fixed costs for its operations has a different strategic stake in big books than a house that is distributed on a fee-for-volume basis. Osnos’s advice is very sound for the many thousands of publishers who are smaller than the giants, but it would be suicide for any of the Big Six.

4. Peter Mayer gets the history right about how big money came into the game; it was led by the large advances paid by paperback houses in the late 1960s and early 1970s. That also led to the combining of what were, for more than a quarter century after World War II, two different and separate businesses: trade publishing and mass-market publishing. It isn’t mentioned in this piece, but Mayer (and his marketing director at that time, Bill Shinker) were responsible for moving full-sized books into mass market channels when they sold gazillions of copies of a trade paperback through the rack jobbers (memory unsupported by research says it was  ”The People’s Pharmacy”.) Bantam then sold the hardcover “Iacocca” the same way and, in another decade, there was no longer a distinction between “trade” and “mass.”

In 1979, Crown sold the paperback rights to Princess Daisy to Bantam for $3.1 million. That remans, today, the highest price ever paid by a paperback house for the rights to an original hardcover; it was the high water mark. So the account of the genesis of large advances is accurate, but trade houses have been on their own on this for three full decades. I see great irony in the history Peter Mayer reminds us of.  It was the sub rights departments of hardcover houses that turned this into a big money business, and the agents followed. I know that at the same time, standard practice for agents was just changing from submitting a manuscript to one house at a time, consecutively, to the multiple submissions which are a pre-requisite to competitive bidding and auctions.

So if Peter’s history is right, corporate greed drove entreprenurial greed, not the other way around. I wonder whether there were editors at publishing houses complaining to agents about this dastardly new practice of multiple submissions at the same time that the sub rights department down the hall was setting up an auction for the next big book? (No bloggers at the time to call them on it if they did!)

On much the other end of the continuum, I invented a technique on the very first book I published in 1974 which I am a bit surprised I have never seen since (which doesn’t mean nobody else has done it!) The book was “Amnesty: The Unsettled Question of Vietnam” and it was a 3-author debate (”Now”, “Never”, and “If…”) including Senator Mark Hatfield. The authors each did their part for no “advance”, but instead got a $500 guaranteed first royalty payment, giving us time to get the money from sales to pay them. As things turned out, they would have earned about $350 each on the first payment and ultimately all earned out the $500. And even though they would have earned $350, I had taken in enough to pay them the $500 from receipts. Paperback rights were never sold.

I saw notice of the TBR piece on Twitter this morning, read it, and wrote this piece. Figured it would be Monday’s post…But then an hour later I went back to Twitter and saw that my friend Evan Schnittman, who just started a new blog called Black Plastic Glasses, had already published his rant on the Times piece and it wasn’t even 2:30 on Saturday afternoon!

We have different takes. His is publisher-centric. Hey! He’s a publisher! Enjoy it.

Oh, and this is Monday’s post. It might even have to hold the prime position until Wednesday.

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