Random House

The other comparison: ebook royalties versus ebook self-publishing


My last post tried to lay out a comparison of royalties paid by big publishers to agented authors on ebooks against what they pay on print books. What it showed is that the authors suffer a bit on ebook sales that substitute for hardcover print sales, but that they do pretty well selling an ebook instead of a paperback. And the numbers also showed that a publisher selling ebooks under a wholesale arrangement pays the author a higher royalty than an agency publisher when the print is in its hardcover life, but that the agency publisher is actually paying more royalties if the printed edition is a mass-market paperback.

But this comparison has its limits. It helps an author or agent compare their economic prospects with an agency publisher as opposed to a wholesale one. But it doesn’t help an author understand the next comparison she’ll want to make, between doing her book with a publisher and doing it herself without a publisher at all

Fortunately for authors and agents, the benchmark for self-publishing revenue is clearly established by the ebook platform Smashwords, which I first wrote about at the end of a post 16 months ago. There are certainly alternatives to Smashwords: web-based solutions like Scribd, full-service offerings like our clients at Bookmasters, and things in between like Author Solutions. But Smashwords is the most automated, least expensive, and, at this point, most heavily used self-publishing solution for ebooks.

Smashwords pays authors 85% of the sales price for ebooks sold on its own site, and about 85% of the receipts for sales made through iBooks (Apple), Sony, B&N, Kobo, and the Diesel eBook Store. In other words, an author would get more than three times the “old” standard 25% ebook royalty offered by the big publishers and double the “new” possible 40% royalty implied as the new ceiling by the Random-Wylie agreement announced last week.

It is worth noting that Mark Coker of Smashwords says that all their deals will be agency going forward because control of the retail price is very important to their authors and publishers. The net to the author or publisher through their existing deals is 42.5% for sales made through Sony or B&N, 46.75% for sales made through Kobo, and 60% on their agency deals with Apple and the Diesel eBook Store.

And although Smashwords does not (yet) have an agreement to distribute through Kindle (though they’re working on it), the authors and publishers that use Smashwords would be free to make a separate deal with Kindle, giving them a possible 70% of their retail price if they can keep the potential discounters in line (that would be B&N, Kobo, and Sony.)

One thing very much in Smashwords’ favor is that the barriers to use them are very low. All you need is a doc file and a bright person to pay attention to quality control as you work through your conversion. They make metadata management simple.

What might give big authors pause about using Smashwords is that they distribute DRM-free (although the retailers listed above will be adding their own unless the publisher tells them not to) and that they depend on trust. Each retailer selling Smashwords titles has the content file and the metadata file in their possession and the sales reporting cannot effectively be audited.

But whether or not Smashwords is everybody’s solution, they certainly are establishing that pure automated ebook conversion and distribution services are worth 15% of what is collected from the consumer or from the intermediary selling to the consumer.

Smashwords is already pretty big and growing fast. They have 18,000 titles on offer from 8,000 different authors and publishers at the moment and Coker says they’ve added 2,500 titles in the past 30 days!

And I can personally attest to the fact that Smashwords has some books people will want. I found a title on iBooks called “A Year in Mudville” about the Mets first season — baseball history being a subject I know well and read broadly — which is terrific. It is well-researched, well-written, and well-edited. I found some presentation glitches (type fonts changing for no apparent reason) and pointed them out to Coker. He showed them to the author who then corrected the file. (The glitches didn’t interfere with reading the book at all.) And that book was priced at $8.99 on iBooks, which means the author was getting $5.40 from the sale! Look at that against the chart in my prior post! On a $9 list-price ebook, the author would be getting $1.125 from a wholesale publisher and $1.575 from an agency publisher at 25% royalty; $1.80 and $2.52 at 40%. (And, assuming they did an Amazon deal separately and could meet the restrictions required for the 70% royalty, that author would be getting $6.30 for each sale on Kindle!)

At per-unit revenues from ebook sales anywhere from 2.5-to-6 times what they could get from a publisher, and ebook sales rising inexorably as a percentage of total sales, authors and their agents are ultimately going to be doing their math against this option for each new book they have to offer. Some may be doing it already.

There are a few things publishers can tell authors to try to keep them from jumping.

1. “Don’t forget: we give you an advance!” That is the first, and for many authors the most powerful, argument. Agents like advances too, so they’re likely to be sympathetic to the publishers’ point here. But, of course, with that advance comes the publisher’s claim to more than half of what would otherwise be the author’s ebook profits.

2. “Don’t forget: print books are still 90% of your market!” This is really the reason established authors will be reluctant to jump to Smashwords. And as long as print is 90%, or even 80% (and it is falling to that level on many immersive reading books now), getting a multiple on the ebook sales still leaves a shortfall of revenue to the author unless they figure out how to also have the book available in print. The big publishers won’t be doing print-only deals for quite a while, but smaller publishers will certainly be available to work with brand-name authors on that basis. And when the print share falls to 50% of the total sales, which many of us believe it will over the next few years, this argument won’t be effective anymore. (There are many ways for the author to self-publish print too, but only the print-on-demand solutions don’t require big investment or risk, and you aren’t going to get what a publisher would deliver with POD alone.)

3. “You’ll have to do your own publicity and marketing.” This is true, but it is also true that publishers have wanted authors to do a lot of their own publicity and marketing already. From here, it would seem that the author’s marketing efforts will be critical either way. If the author is already big and branded (likely due at least in part to the prior efforts of a publisher, but that’s not necessarily relevant here), it’s less of a barrier than if they’re not. It might be no barrier at all. This is an uncomfortable point for publishers because the authors who need the least help are the ones they want to publish the most.

4. “If we publish you, you’re legitimatized.” I think this point carries almost no weight with any author who has had a bestseller already or has already had more than a couple of books published by established houses. I think it will carry less and less weight with everybody else. I just found my first great book by an unknown author on Smashwords. Sooner or later, you will too.

5. “We’ve built email lists and other direct contact with the consumers you want to sell to, plus we have relationships with the book retailers to get you more attractive placement and promotion through them than you can get without us.” Now, that would be attractive. Can any big publisher justify that claim?

6. “We will pay you 70% of receipts on ebooks to keep you in our stable. It isn’t the 85% you get from Smashwords, but with our advance, our print book sales, and taking all the admin and management off your hands, it’s a better deal for you.” That will probably work, but no publisher wants to let it get to that point.

Publishers better work on number five.


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The royalty math: print, wholesale model, agency model


I have been helped in trying to parse the ebook royalty question by a numerate agent. While he helped with me the methodology, the numbers that appear in the tables below below are my responsibility. I hope that arraying the information this way will help everybody think through the question of ebook royalties with more precision. This is a subject we’ll have a panel talking about at Digital Book World in January.

I want to think about this philosophically (I like to think about everything philosophically), but this post is about establishing a framework of understanding about what the real economic implications are, for the publisher and the author, of today’s sales practices and division of revenue. So this is pretty much a “just the facts, m’am” post.

We created three sets of tables: one to compare ebooks to hardcovers, another one comparing them to trade paperbacks, and the third comparing them to mass-market paperbacks. Because of the reports following the Random House-Wylie announcement that suggest that ebook royalties, at least on some backlist, might hit 40%, we have calculated how they work out under both the wholesale model and the agency model with the author getting 25% of net and with the author getting 40% of net.

Here’s the key to understanding the columns. For each grouping, we placed print on top, followed by two rows for 25% royalty (wholesale model and agency model), with the last two rows calculated at 40% royalty (wholesale model and agency model.) The retail price is the one the publisher establishes; the net is what they get from the channel partner for each unit sold. The cost is an estimate of print cost (10% of retail plus 25% for obsolescent inventory) or the unit cost of an ebook sale (50 cents in all cases, primarily to cover DRM.) The margin is simple subtraction of the cost from the net. The royalty rate is self-explanatory. The author royalty per unit is calculated from the rate and the price or net, as applicable. And the last column shows the percentage of the total margin that is claimed by the author at that royalty rate.

We did not factor in the cost of digitizing ebooks; nor did we include the cost of typesetting and page makeup for print books. Since we’re focused on royalties that would be paid after earn-out, the assumption is that those costs have already been amortized.

Hardcover

Format Retail Net Cost Margin Royalty
Rate
Author
Royalty
Author %
of Margin
Print $26 $13 $3.25 $9.75 15%
of retail
$3.90 40%
Ebook – Wholesale $26 $13 $0.50 $12.50 25%
of net
$3.25 26%
Ebook – Agency $13 $9.10 $0.50 $8.60 25%
of net
$2.275 26%
Wholesale at 40% $26 $13 $0.50 $12.50 40%
of net
$5.20 41%
Agency at 40% $13 $9.10 $0.50 $8.60 40%
of net
$3.67 42%

Trade Paperback

Format Retail Net Cost Margin Royalty
Rate
Author
Royalty
Author %
of Margin
Print $15 $7.50 $1.875 $5.625 7.5%
of retail
$1.125 20%
Ebook – Wholesale $15 $7.50 $0.50 $7 25%
of net
$1.875 27%
Ebook – Agency $10 $7 $0.50 $6.50 25%
of net
$1.75 27%
Wholesale at 40% $15 $7.50 $0.50 $7 40%
of net
$3 43%
Agency at 40% $10 $7 $0.50 $6.50 40%
of net
$2.80 43%

Mass Market Paperback

Format Retail Net Cost Margin Royalty
Rate
Author
Royalty
Author %
of Margin
Print $8 $4 $1 $3 10%
of retail
$0.80 27%
Ebook – Wholesale $8 $4 $0.50 $3.50 25%
of net
$1 29%
Ebook – Agency $8 $5.60 $0.50 $5.10 25%
of net
$1.40 27%
Wholesale at 40% $8 $4 $0.50 $3.50 40%
of net
$1.60 46%
Agency at 40% $8 $5.60 $0.50 $5.10 40%
of net
$2.24 44%

Here are a few things that jump out at me as I look at these numbers.

1. In the print world, authors are getting a much bigger share of the margin for hardcovers than they are for paperbacks.

2. Although it is true that an author gets a much bigger royalty on a hardcover under the wholesale model than under the agency model, that is not true for paperbacks. The ebook royalty for a trade paperback equivalent is quite close in the two models, although wholesale still yields more. But in mass-market, the author actually gets significantly more under the agency model than they do under the wholesale model!

3. The author suffers a real shortfall in revenue for each copy sold in hardcover at the prevailing 25% royalty. However, the author makes more money on each ebook than they do on each trade paperback or mass-market paperback.

4. Our margin calculations are strictly cost-of-sale based and include no calculations for overhead. Looking at these numbers, one can see why publishers believe, at least on paperbacks, that the 25% royalty is more than fair. (The author is getting more per copy sold and the percentage of the total margin they’re getting is as good or better than for a paper edition.) While we’re in a time where digitizing for epub is an extra step, not a simple alternative output of an XML-based pre-press process, the ebook seems freighted with extra costs. But in the longer run, that won’t be true. Ebooks should put less strain on overheads and require less of an organization to support them: no warehouse, no cash tied up in inventory, no need to monitor stock in the warehouse and in the supply chain.

Looking at these numbers it is easy to see why publishers are fighting to hold the line on ebook royalties. But ultimately the determination of what will work will not be based on what is fair or equitable; it will be be based on what the market says is the right level. That will be worth exploring in another post.


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Where do we lose the shelf space and how much do we lose?


There are two questions about the impact of digital change on publishing that are just about impossible to answer.

One is: how much of the sale of ebooks is incremental business and how much of it is cannibalization of prior print sales?

The other is: what will be the fate of independent bookstores?

The two are connected.

As we watch the (long-term) inexorable but (short- and medium-term) unpredictable growth in ebook sales, it is really not possible to tell to what extent we’re just selling established customers the same purchases in a different form (certainly some of it and my personal guess would be the lion’s share of it) and to what extent we’re finding new customers (also certainly some of it and, to my way of thinking, more likely to the user of a multi-function device than a dedicated book reader like Kindle or Nook) or making incremental sales to established customers.

(We plan to address the whether the multi-function device users have a different consumption profile at the Digital Book World conference in January. It’s a knotty question but we think we have a way to get at it.)

The measurements of industry sales have been far too imprecise and muddied to address a sophisticated question like that. (The AAP and BISG are making a serious joint effort to remedy that situation; I have seen some of the great work in building a new data model that has been led by Tina Jordan of AAP and Scott Lubeck of BISG. More on that very promising initiative some other day.) The aggregate industry numbers that we’re used to probably won’t be sufficient to change any closely-held opinions any time soon.

Individual publishers might see data worth intepreting in the total unit sales of major authors that  have established clear sales patterns over time, if they can analyze their way past the fluctuations that must inevitably occur in the sales of each new major release by an established bestseller writer. One place one might expect to see an uptick is in the prior titles in a series (but, even then, you don’t know if the extra sales of four prior Carl Hiaasson titles weren’t instead of sales of four other books, do you?)

My own analysis has been simplistic, assuming pretty much flat sales into the digital future because that has been the case in our overwhelmingly non-digital recent past. When I do the calculations that lead me to think that the sales available to brick-and-mortar stores will decline drastically over the next five years, I’m assuming that the rise of digital sales results in a pretty much equivalent decline in print sales. I also assume that the increase in ebook sales and the reduction in retail shelf space allocated to books accelerates the movement of print book sales to online. If ebook sales aren’t largely cannibalizing, and they don’t themselves reduce the sales available to be made in stores as much as their growth would suggest, then shelf space might not disappear as fast.

My back-of-the-envelope calculations (which have been endorsed in a series of private conversations with publishers, booksellers, and analysts but also strongly resisted in a private conversation by at least one person whose judgment I really trust and also apparently contradicted by the expectations expressed by Random House CEO Markus Dohle in his recent interview) are that brick-and-mortar’s share of total trade book sales will reduce from around 80% today (some say it is higher) to about 30% five years from now. That would be a reduction of more than 60%. Let’s say the share is still 50% in five years (which I speculated might be the number in 2-1/2 years). That would still constitute a 35-40% reduction from where we are today. That’s drastic.

But it still doesn’t tell us “who fails?” Shelf space reductions can come in a variety of ways. Stores can be closed, chain and independent. Dedicated bookstores of all kinds can become less dedicated and turn over shelf space to other items. And mass merchants can decide to reduce the space they gave books or to eliminate them. All three things will happen to varying degrees.

This is a bit like trying to do a weather forecast based on one’s confident knowledge of climate change. The two are related but there are local factors in addition to global ones. Each time a store closes or reduces its shelf space (or, for that matter, in the rarer cases where a new store opens or one increases its shelf space), it affects the fate of the other stores in its vicinity.

On Tuesday night, I came home from a late meeting with a former Cabinet official who was thinking about buying an independent bookstore and seeking my advice, which, based on no specific knowledge, was “don’t.” I walked in to receive a call from a reporter who asked me for my comment on the Barnes & Noble “news.” “What was that?” I asked. “They’re putting themselves up for sale,” he said. “What has happened recently that would motivate that?”

Without having read the press release, which would have signaled to me that they weren’t actually putting themselves up for sale so much as beginning the process of taking themselves private, I strived to answer the question. I thought the acceleration of ebook uptake, some of it fueled by B&N’s Nook device, was recent news that didn’t bode well for physical bookstores. I thought the recent rescue of Borders, which could postpone their demise or shrinking, wasn’t happy news for Barnes & Noble. And I wondered whether the Ron Burkle lawsuit might make the Riggios less interested in owning the business.

Of course, all of those things are true but none of them apply because the premise was wrong. The Riggios are probably not trying to sell the business; they’re more likely trying to buy the business.

Then I checked with a commission rep friend of mine about the bookstore the former politician I met earlier that evening wanted to buy. It turns out to be an independent with a relatively solid future, with knowledgeable staff underneath its owners and a great reputation with the publishers which assures a continuing flow of traffic-building author appearances. In other words, “don’t” might not be the right advice in this particular case.

Whether the brick-and-mortar share of the business falls by 25%, 50%, or 75% over the next five years from what it is now (and all are possible), the reduction in shelf space depends on whether that reduction is against a rising base of total sales or a stable one. And how it affects any one particular store depends on what has happened to the shelf space allocations by others in that store’s immediate vicinity. That will be very hard for anybody to track.

I am still extremely skeptical of recent celebrations of the successes of independent stores, which we’ve seen coming out of New York City and Pittsburgh in the past couple of weeks. Anecdotal information is not projectable data; it is often misleading data. Nobody seems to be making the claim that bookstore shelf space is increasing in New York or Pittsburgh or anyplace else. Any one bookstore might still, for a while, be a reasonable bet. But this is a case where the usual laws of investment (diversify as much as you can) would likely not apply. It is hard to imagine bets on five or ten or twenty independent stores paying off in the aggregate in the years to come. Unless you were making those bets with knowledge about exactly where Barnes & Noble, Borders, Books-a-Million,Walmart, Target, and Costco were reducing their shelf space the odds will be against you, and I’m pretty sure there won’t be anybody who knows all those facts in a timely way.


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It isn’t wise to draw lines in the sand that ultimately can’t be defended


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.

I don’t have an ideology about this. I think a Harlequin ebook author should get less than a Harper ebook author because the Harlequin brand adds to the sales power: the author wouldn’t sell as well if the same book were in another imprint. Fully applied, that means that every deal would be different, which is utterly impractical.
I think publishers should try to apply the lowest standard royalty that they can get away with based on marketplace reality. It isn’t reality to offer a brand name with a choice of where to go 25% in this day and age. It’s just bloody-minded. My sense is that any house that paid a standard 25% to earnout and 35% thereafter today would be fine, for now, except with the biggest authors with whom they’ll have to negotiate escalators. When ebook sales get to 50% of the total (2014-15), even 50% might not cut it.


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Lots going on; no single topic today


I find myself with a lot of pages open on my web browser. Even before Amazon’s announcement yesterday about ebooks passing hardcovers in sales this past quarter, there has been a lot going on.

There had been some suggestions, which I never bought into, that ebook sales were slowing in 2009. (Is this a meme that started with somebody anti-Agency? More on that later…) I look at the IDPF chart as it stands today and it is headlined 2010 Sales  ”OFF THE CHART” vs. Previous Quarters and that’s how it looks to me. A major publisher told me yesterday that AAP figures suggest ebook sales are up 210% this year and that house’s numbers are up 225%, so they feel they’re rising with the tide. That’s about what PW said the AAP said with the additional information that hardcover sales were up and paperback sales, trade and mass market, were down.

In fact, Amazon, in the face of the apparently-stiff competition from the Nook and the iPad, says Kindle book sales have tripled in the first half of the year!

Nonetheless, Madeline McIntosh at Random House doesn’t see ebooks causing problems for paperback sales. She’s quoted in the Wall Street Journal saying, “Our conclusion is that there’s no data to prove any connection—good or bad—between growth in e-books and the growth or decline, in trade paperback sales. … If anything, we may be seeing a positive effect in which the steady pace of e-book sales helps to keep a book in front-of-mind for a growing number of consumers after hardcover momentum slows.”

Kat Meyer, blogging for O’Reilly, got an indie ebookseller to talk on the record about the difficulties they’re having with the transition to Agency. This would seem to undercut the idea (which I agree with) that Agency is good for smaller sellers, because the little guys will get squashed in a price war with big guys. A seminal figure in the online book retailing world who has worked with smaller stores on these challenges for years told me in a phone conversation this week that he completely agrees with me. But the problems Kat lays out for the smaller guys during the transition are real. Let’s hope we don’t lose too many of them while this all gets figured out.

Meanwhile, Knopf made some news with the announcement that they are converting more of their backlist to ebooks. We were wondering what titles they could have missed so far. Random House has never been a laggard at ebook conversion and we’re scratching our heads wondering about a conversion initiative that would be imprint-specific. But this shows that the ebook sales records being broken are occurring without the gun being fully loaded; they’re still making ebullets out of old books.

Joe Wikert wrote a blog about the emerging ebook landscape in which he imagines that the various indies selling Google Editions will, all together, constitute a big Amazon. I don’t think so. I don’t think Google can save indies with what they’re doing. But it is good that they’re trying.

Joe also thinks that Amazon will abandon the Kindle device in favor of the Kindle as a platform. I don’t agree with that either. The device is reportedly still selling like hotcakes with sales rising quickly since a recent price cut, even while the Nook has established itself and iPad has been “competing.” I think there’s room for tablet computers and ereaders, which might be a minority position at the moment. (Being in the minority is perfectly comfortable for me.)

You know we’re all about vertical here at The Shatzkin Files. It looks like some authors from big houses are taking this vertical thing into their own hands. A bunch of gardening authors have created their own garden experts speakers bureau.  It won’t surprise anybody if I predict that this effort will be more successful than the “horizontal” speakers bureaus launched by some of the major houses over the past few years. I checked with the folks at Cool Springs Press, the gardening publisher I featured here a couple of weeks ago, and, of course, they’re involved.

I had written a blogpost recently saying that I thought ebook selling nodes would explode and be all over the web. It looks like Oprah is fueling that idea in a way that I hadn’t entertained: with an app. Why not? Who has a better brand than Oprah for “curation”? Maybe Barnes & Noble. But maybe not.

It also seems that self-publishing is growing in ubiquity and respectability. PW announced the plans of an author who told his agent not to bother selling his rights. If this isn’t the major trade houses’ worse nightmare, it should be! Joe Konrath, who may go down in history as the trailblazer who proved that some authors, at least, can make money without publishers, is reporting his rising Amazon revenues on books the New York houses have turned down, and they’re eye-catching.

And the last thing I note in this pot-pourri is the news from Farrar Straus & Giroux that they’re launching an online literary magazine. On the one hand, this is the kind of niche marketing we’ve been advocating that larger houses pursue. On the other hand, the story suggests this is all about promoting FS&G books, not about building a community of like-minded readers, few of whom would know or care which publisher put out the last book they liked.


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Where will bookstores be five years from now?


Upton Sinclair famously said that “it is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.”

I keep putting facts about publishing’s commercial realities that I think most of the smart people running things accept together with forecasts for the future that I think most of the smart people running things accept and coming up with a view of where we’ll be sometime pretty soon that I find very few people will accept.

We have definitely passed what Michael Cader has dubbed “peak bookstores” in the US. Shelf space for books is probably dropping faster than the number of stores as book retailers look for other items to keep their customers more satisfied and give those items space previously devoted to books. And shelf space available for publishers who don’t own bookstores is dropping faster than that because Barnes & Noble, the leading provider of bookshelf display space, is aggressively sourcing their own product both to improve their margins and to develop proprietary product not available to their competitors.

The fate of bookstores is an existential question for today’s book publishers (not to mention today’s booksellers!) Although it isn’t often stated this starkly, the core value proposition for the biggest trade book publishers is that they can put books on shelves. All of the rest of what they do (and often do quite well) — selection, editing, development, packaging, and marketing — is fungible. And usually not scaleable.

A big publisher and an agent would add to this list the “banking” function: putting up the money in advance for the author to write the book. But I’d argue that is also fungible (there’s lots of money out there looking for investment opportunities) so the publisher’s opportunity to be that banker is also dependent on the publisher’s ability to put books on retail shelves.

So, whether they know it or not (and, at the highest levels of the biggest publishing houses, they certainly do know it) the competitive advantage of the trade publisher is inextricably dependent on the survival of brick-and-mortar shelf space for books, which is distinct from total sales of books or even total sales of print books. You don’t need an organization of the scale and capabilities of a major publisher to reach customers through online channels. And, in fact, because the biggest trade publishers are horizontal in their subject matter, their size is more of a handicap than an advantage in competing for markets online.

We consume a lot of industry bandwidth considering whether the Nook and Kindle will survive the iPad and other tablets. I’d argue that it doesn’t really matter much to us. What’s important is that more and more people are reading on screens, that those who do reduce their purchases of books on paper (a fact recently documented in the BISG-Bowker study of ebook consumption), and that the digital book business is transacted online with very little potential role for a brick-and-mortar player (notwithstanding a wonderful 4-year old French fantasy video and a burst of naive optimism from an ABA executive at a BEA roundtable.)

(Digression graf: a much more realistic view of what ebooks and online shopping mean for independent bookstores today is a pessimistic one from the blog of one of the country’s leading independents, Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Center, Vermont. We know Google harbors the hope that they can provide meaningful inclusion for independents in the ebook marketplace. But even if Google’s efforts are successful, they don’t support the independent store, they support the store owner. There is a difference.)

So the race between single-function e-ink and more full-function tablets accelerates the movement from print to digital book consumption; and the move from print to digital book consumption accelerates the shift from store-based purchasing to online purchasing; and the shift to online book purchasing, whether print or digital, accelerates the reduction of brick-and-mortar shelf space.

And the reduction of brick-and-mortar shelf space increasingly challenges the core proposition of all of today’s largest book publishers.

A panel of publishing CEOs in June suggested a consensus view that 40 to 50 percent of book sales five years from now will be ebooks. Last week, another leading publishing executive, Gina Centrello of Random House, made the same prediction. I think, if anything, these predictions are conservative, but if we accept them as made, the implications are profound.

Half of sales being digital means that half is transacted online. That begs the next question, which is how much of the other half is online and how much is brick-and-mortar? The answer to that depends on two variables: the purchasing preferences of consumers and the ability of retailers to keep stores open in the face of declining sales. The two variables are connected: the further away from you is the closest decent store, the more likely you are to increase your purchasing online. And the more you purchase online, the more likely the store nearest to you is to close.

It is a conservative guess that 20% of print book sales today are made online and that ebooks are about 5-to-8% of total sales. That means that consensus estimates are that the ebook share will grow from 5-to-10 times over the next five years. That’s not unreasonable since ebook sales have more than doubled annually in recent years and 10 times would be somewhere between 2-1/2 and just over 3 doublings in five years. (Centrello said they went from 3% to 10% in the past year and, without knowing precisely what dates are meant by “the past year”, we can certainly expect more of an iPad effect in whatever is the “next” year.”)

That kind of ebook sales growth suggests an increasingly digitally-ept and digitally-comfortable reading public. That makes them more likely to buy print online too. So what’s a conservative estimate of the online share of print in five years. It can’t go up 5-to-10 times and leave any sales at brick-and-mortar at all. So let’s say (I’d say very conservatively), that print sales in 2015 are half online and that enough shelf space has survived to deliver half of print sales through brick-and-mortar. (I have to say as I write this that I have trouble believing it, but most people would have even more trouble believing me if I went with my gut on this!)

That math leaves print sales through stores at 25% of the total book sales. Today, if the stores’ share is 80% of print and we assume print is 90% of total book sales (using Centrello’s 10% number as a baseline in an attempt to be more conservative for this particular calculation), then we’re talking about a brick-and-mortar decline from 72% of the market today to 25% in 5 years! That’s a loss of about two-thirds from today’s sales levels! And that’s across all stores: chain bookstores, independent bookstores, and mass merchants.

I am not hearing anything in the statements of publishing or bookstore executives to suggest that anybody’s preparing for change that drastic. And I don’t see anything in the trend lines that suggest that we can avoid it.

Tell the truth. If I had headlined this piece, “Industry executives predictions mean sales of books through brick-and-mortar will decline by 65% over the next five years”, wouldn’t you have started out reading it assuming I was nuts?

I did a post three months ago called Why Are You For Killing Bookstores? which was on a similar topic, focusing on the see-saw relationship between ebook growth and bookstore survival. (When one goes up, the other goes down.) It was one of the most commented-upon posts in 17 months I’ve been writing the blog. I think that was a result of what could be a corrollary to Sinclair’s maxim which would go something like this: “it is very hard to get somebody to understand something when understanding it would highlight the conflict between two propositions that appeal to them.”


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A brilliant Conference Council helps make a great Digital Book World


We had a very successful debut annual conference for Digital Book World last January, even though we didn’t conceive the idea until June, put together a group of helpers (which we now call our Conference Council) until July, or draft the initial program until August. This year we’re way ahead of that schedule. We’ve put together a fabulous Council to advise us this year and we’re having a meeting of many of them next week to discuss the agenda and to start getting suggestions for speakers.

The Council gives us wide exposure and connections to the trade publishing industry. That way we make sure we don’t miss any ideas and we don’t miss knowing about any talented people whom our audience would want to hear.

We have several publishing company presidents and CEOs (Sara Domville of F+W, Marcus Leaver of Sterling, Maureen McMahon of Kaplan, Brian Napack of Macmillan, Dominique Raccah of Sourcebooks) and some presidents and CEOs from other companies and support organizations in the industry (Kristen McLean of the Association of Booksellers for Children, Tracey Armstrong of Copyright Clearance Center, Peter Clifton of Filedby, David Cully of Baker & Taylor, Joe Esposito of GiantChair, John Ingram of Ingram Content Companies, Scott Lubeck of The Book Industry Study Group, and Steve Potash of Overdrive Systems.)

We have other senior level executives, many with specific digital responsibilities (Peter Balis of Wiley, Ken Brooks of Cengage, Mark Gompertz of Simon & Schuster, Madeline McIntosh of Random House, Thomas Minkus of the Frankfurt Book Fair, Larry Norton of Borders, Kate Rados of F+W Media, Charlie Redmayne of HarperCollins, Adam Salomone of Harvard Common Press, John Schline of Penguin, Evan Schnittman of Oxford University Press, Michael Tamblyn of Kobo, Maja Thomas of Hachette, and Tom Turvey of Google.)

We have agents (Sloan Harris of ICM, Simon Lipskar of Writer’s House, and Scott Waxman of the Waxman Agency) and industry consultants and commentators (Michael Cairns of Persona Non Data, Ted Hill of THA Consulting, and Lorraine Shanley of Market Partners International.) And because he is our media partner, we have help from Michael Cader of Publishers Marketplace as well. And we also get great input from others on the F+W team: David Nussbaum, David Blansfield, Cory Smith, Guy Gonzalez, and Matt Mullin.

So we have all the Big Six represented, as well as small publishers, industry-wide associations and service providers, wholesalers, digital distribution partners, retailers, and agents. All of these people have real input into the topic list and speakers. Many of them are joining us for a meeting next week to review our ideas for the program, which we previewed on this blog about a month ago.

Because Digital Book World tries to be at the cutting edge of trade publishing and digital change, we often face one or both of two challenges. Sometimes we believe something should be happening, or be about to happen, but we may not know where or whether the publishers leading the charge will talk about it. Several topics come to mind that fit that description: vertical efforts inside general trade houses; what houses are doing to adjust to reduced expectations for print sales in bookstores; how houses are gearing up or changing their sales efforts to compete in and serve a growing list of digital intermediaries; how enhanced ebook and ebook first creation change the traditional order of things in product development.

The other challenge we have to work around is when people can say things privately but not publicly. One topic that is very tough to talk about is ebook royalties, which is a major point of contention between publishers and leading agents at the moment. The big houses are pretty adamantly trying to hold the line (publicly) at a royalty of 25% of net receipts. But upstart publishers like Jane Friedman’s Open Road appear to be willing to pay 50%; publishing through Smashwords yields 85% (but sells the books without DRM, which would frequently scare the copyright owners of valuable properties); and self-publishing through a distributor would deliver a yield somewhere in between. (Remember: self-publishing ebooks carries no inventory risk.) In that environment, some agents are able to wring some concessions from some publishers. But the agent can’t talk about that without jeopardizing her ability to get concessions for her clients and no publisher will volunteer to reveal the isolated concession and start turning that into a policy.

Some things are just hard to discuss. Do booksellers, or even the publishers and wholesalers who supply them, want to talk about the possibility of their impending demise? But how can one plan for the future and ignore that elephant in the room? If a publisher suddenly sees the necessity of developing direct selling relationships with end users, after years of telling booksellers he was against it, does that publisher want to talk about those efforts in public?

When competitors participate in industry education initiatives, they must draw lines around what they will reveal and what they won’t. One ebook-responsible executive we know at a major house is persistently reluctant to reveal what he’s doing or what he’s thinking. But he has a boss, one who is proud of what he does and what their house does, who pushes him forward as a speaker.

Frankly, I think these challenges are greater for us than they are for other conferences on digital change that focus more on technology than they do on business practices. Very few publishers are masters of tech; usually they’re working with outside suppliers who are happy to share best practices. But business practices are different; they’re more sensitive. Sometimes the reluctance to share them is sound. Sometimes constraints are even legally required. Since our job is to focus on business practices, we’re glad to have relationships with very knowledgable players who will candidly engage with us on these challenges so we can figure out the best way to protect true proprietary knowledge but still disseminate valuable information.

We’re really proud of the illustrious group we have gotten to advise our efforts, and we get great value from them even though their first responsibility is to the company they work for. We feel confident that this group helps us cast a net that is wide and broad enough to assure us that any major development in the trade book world will hit our radar screen and that we’ll know if there are informed people willing to talk about it.


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A roadmap for the future: 6 suggestions for today’s publishers that many can’t follow


I had occasion during this past week to speak at the global strategic meeting of Harlequin. Often when I am asked to speak, even internally to publishers, I am explicit told “we want you to scare the hell out of them.” Since I think of myself as a pretty unthreatening guy, I’m always a bit disconcerted by the reality that I’m doing that. But, of course, my core message is not very comforting to most people in the legacy publishing business. (And, I hasten to say, Harlequin never made that suggestion, nor, as this post should make clear, is it really relevant in their case.)

The message is scary for most because the essence of what I’m saying is that publishers over the next decade or two will have to change the way they think about how they deliver value. Their core asset base will shift from being the intellectual property they own or develop to the audiences they command. Publishers with vertical content offerings have a big head start to making that adjustment and general trade publishers hardly know what to make of the message at all.

I think my argument is pretty simple. It has two principal components.

I posit that the price of content must go down because of the laws of supply and demand. Even though digital delivery does actually increase “demand” (because people can consume more media if they have the means to do so always at hand), it increases supply much more. You used to need a publisher to spend some money and to commit an organization to get content into “supply”. Now you just need an internet connection. So I see downward pressure on the selling price of content going far into the future. This does not mean that eventually all content will be free, but it does mean that everybody will consume more and more free content and, therefore, be generally less willing to pay money for content to augment what is free.

The second component of my argument is that audiences for content will be (mostly)  aligned around interests. I call that “vertical”. The most successful legacy consumer media, including all of the biggest book publishers, tried to satisfy a wide range of interests, which I call “horizontal”.

I put those two things together and I say that getting from today (selling content) to tomorrow (selling audiences) depends on using today’s asset to build tomorrow’s. This might sound like something close to insanity if you’re Random House or Simon & Schuster or Penguin. It can make a lot of sense to you if you’re F+W Media or Hay House or Chelsea Green or Cool Springs Press. It seemed to make total sense to the people at Harlequin.

To prepare for the Harlequin conversation, I made a list of “most important things to think about” for them going forward. Here it is. If you’re really a vertical publisher, it should be a useful road map. To the extent that makes no sense at all, it indicates that your company is locked into competition for a pool of revenue and sales opportunity that will shrink, slowly for a while, but only for a while.

1. Use content as bait. When you make the leap that the eyeballs you own are the key to future monetization, not the copyrights you own, then you readily see the value of exploiting the content to attract eyeballs. This means many different things in different contexts, and, of course, the content-selling model still provides most of the cash and will for quite a while, but this is a key principle to apply. The free and freemium strategies you use will be different if your objective is to build a loyal community than if  you have the more immediate objective of selling something on the back of the giveaway.

2. Be sensitive to low-overhead competition and be prepared to imitate their new models. We’re heading for the day — actually we’re already in it — when it won’t take a big organization to reach a lot of book readers. (We’ll be transacting half our book purchases online in the next couple of years.) When companies smaller than yours are offering cheaper products with different delivery models — subscription, print-on-demand, whatever — watch them closely and try what they’re doing so you understand it. (Of course, Harlequin was already very much onto this idea. They just launched their own low-price imprint, Carina Press.)

3. Grow! Acquire competitors, or coopt them. Once you’ve defined the audiences you are going after, you have defined the way in which you will seek “scale”. If somebody else is going for the same audience you are, you want first to hope they don’t see it as an audience-acquisition play (and most publishers don’t yet.) While you’re fortunate enough to have competitors who are still focused primarily on monetizing IP, they’ll want to work with you if you have access to an audience that might buy their IP. Then you can use their content as bait to attract eyeballs for your community.

4. Find multiple ways to engage your audience. For community-building, it is not nearly sufficient to deliver product offers online. You have to figure out ways to make your community come to you; you have to figure out ways that members of the community can create value for each other. A key metric for you is how frequently you touch each member of your audience (or, even better, how frequently they touch you). The number of people absolutely guaranteed to open an email you send them will be an important measure of the health of your asset base.

5. Sell everybody else’s ebooks (the recent F+W and Ingram proposition). Almost nobody in your community gives a damn about which books are yours and which are somebody else’s. They want entertainment or information or to solve a problem; if you’re serving them as a community you don’t win by cutting them off from what they want because somebody else published it. A complete (but curated) ebook offering is a first step in the right direction. Ultimately, of course, you want to offer all the print books and all the other “stuff” that is relevant to the community, information-based or just plain products. That’s part of your monetization potential.

6. Build multiple brands with meaning. There are a very small number of companies whose name itself has true consumer meaning as a brand. (In fact, Harlequin is the leading one.) But if you can appeal to a community, you have an oppotunity to build a brand. Brands are shortcuts for consumers; they orient us as to what to expect in products or services, including social cred, quality, and  price. For as long as we have robust print delivery (and I think that might be as little as another five years), we have an opportunity to deliver URLs to people offline. That’s not as “efficient” as delivering them online (where the recipient can immediately click through) but it offers the chance to reach a lot of people who might not be online explorers. (I don’t want to give away Harlequin’s trade secrets here, but I was taken aback to hear how many senior citizens are in their audience; people who might well not be available to be pinged online.) But don’t use a book to push people to promote a generic web site where they’ll arrive and say “why am I here?” Deliver them to something relevant, something that will entice them to come back; a site you can, in good faith, urge the reader of a book to visit with the expectation that it will extend the engagement between you and your reader, to your mutual benefit.

When I deliver this message to the general trade community: publishers, authors, agents, retailers, the reaction is often a blank stare. That’s understandable; getting from a horizontal trade publisher to becoming one that “owns audiences” is a long and winding road. It is a totally rational decision to say, “that’s not the business I’m in; I’ll stick with what I’m doing until I’m the last one standing.” But there were no blank stares from the people at Harlequin. They know they have a large and loyal audience that cares about their brand. Even if the game changes from IP to eyeballs, they can readily see how they can still play.


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We’ve had “gradually”; get ready for “suddenly”


I don’t think too many future predictors are .300 hitters, and one ground ball I tapped out to shortstop was my hunch that the iPad wouldn’t have an immediate significant impact on ebook sales (although I thought it would be important over time.) According to data and analysis uniquely developed and provided by Michael Cader, published last Wednesday (which you need to subscribe to Publishers Marketplace to get and, if you don’t yet, what are you waiting for?), I was proved wrong in less than a month. Apparently if we get slightly larger and portable screens into people’s hands, they want to read books on them. And they don’t need to be e-ink and be lightweight (like Kindle and Nook and Sony Reader and the new Kobo Reader and a slew of forthcoming devices) to have that impact.

All we know from Apple is that they sold about a million iPads in the month of April, with 3G sales beginning only at month end. (Virtually everything sold in April was wifi-only.) We got download numbers, but no real guidance about what they meant in terms of sales. We can figure out that any sales numbers we can gather are for an average installed base of 500,000 iPads.

We wouldn’t expect the monthly sales rate of a million units to be sustained; there were a lot of pre-orders and launch-hype sales in April’s numbers. But with May being launch month for the 3G version and both the wifi and 3G models available going forward, and the 3G model apparently much more popular than the wifi-only, a sale of 500,000 in May which is 3G launch month and a “run rate” of 300,000 a month going forward would seem a modest expectation. If that’s right, then the average installed base in May will be 1.25 million, in June 1.55 million. So the installed base for June will be triple what it was in April.

Cader got anonymized information from an unknown number of large Agency publishers for the April sales. He says that for most of the companies he surveyed, iBooks sales were 12 to 15 percent of their ebook total before the 3G models landed! And then two companies reported sales jumps of 300 and 400 percent on the weekend that they did. And one publisher who showed Cader figures by title revealed that there were already books on which the iPad sales exceeded Kindle sales.

Cader’s analysis pointed out two nuances that need to be considered when interpreting these numbers. The Agency Five impact is overstated because of relatively restricted competition. They have far fewer titles competing with them in the iBooks environment than they do in the Kindle store, the Kobo store, the Sony store, or from the ebook independents. Giant Random House and lots of smaller publishers just weren’t there. So even if the sales of all five publishers were 12 percent of their total ebook sales in April, it wouldn’t suggest that iBooks constitute that portion of overall ebook sales. Yet.

But, at the same time, these numbers also understate the impact of the iPad because iPad owners also buy and consume books on the device from the Kindle and Kobo and B&N readers which wouldn’t be reflected in Cader’s survey numbers. One ebook retailer who shares information told me that sales for his company were very strong in April. I had asked that question to probe whether sales were adversely affected by the price increases mandated by the Agency model. Were they reducing business? No, definitely not. (This is a very big sub-point, but we’ll leave it for another day.) So while one must assume that some of the sales being made from iBooks would otherwise have been made by Kindle or Kobo or another existing retailer, the market is apparently growing fast enough to mask the impact of any cannibalization.

With five of the Big Six and most of the big titles in the iBooks store, it would seem reasonable to assume that 65% of the sales potential is reflected in those books. Applying that assumption to the average of the reported 12-to-15 percent market share (13.5%) would suggest that the overall share of iBooks sales is just a tad under nine percent.

But it would seem to me that number will more than double in May. The installed base will be more than twice as high and the 3G model, from which publishers are reporting much more activity, will constitute a significant portion of the May base after having been non-existent in April. In fact, it seems at least as likely that the number could triple! So by June, we could well be seeing a quarter or more of all ebook sales occurring through iBooks. The rise will probably be slower after that (May sales will reflect the huge installed base increases generated by initial sales in April of the wifi model and in May of the 3G) but Apple climbing into a solid second place behind Kindle in 60 days is pretty dramatic.

Even more exciting for publishers is the evidence that the iBooks sales are expanding the ebook market. Cader reported that many strong titles skewed to a younger and male demographic and that iBooks sales boosted the performance of some nonfiction titles. Most people figured that the iPad would appeal to an audience of not-as-heavy book buyers compared to Kindle, which was part of the reasoning behind my own flawed expectation that sales would be modest at first. But what we may be seeing is that people who get a decent reader in their hands might consume more books digitally than they had in print. If that proves to be true, it would be very good for publishers and authors.

Meanwhile, even before this analysis was delivered, we got news last week from two publishers that increased ebook sales were their best financial news. Both Simon & Schuster and Harlequin reported that print results were disappointing, but digital sales were stronger than expected.

It was only about six weeks ago that I looked at the IDPF’s most recent numbers, applied them to what I’d heard in my own anecdotal conversations with major publishers and agents, and had an epiphanic moment realizing how close we were to what we called at BISG’s Making Information Pay conference last week a “point of no return.” I wrote in my London posts and then repeated at the conference last week that I saw ebook sales to be 25% of a narrative book’s unit sales expectation by the end of 2012. With print book sales made online thrown in, I saw virtual cash registers ringing up half the units for narrative books by then. Two Big Six CEOs privately agreed with me as did a retailer knowledgable about both print and ebook sales. Then I spoke to a Big Six digital strategist who said I was being conservative.

This view is not universally accepted. An executive at a trade book distributor last week told me (nicely, he’s a nice person) that he thought I was nuts. He still sees ebook sales as trivial and not likely to reach the levels I expect by the end of 2012 by even the end of 2016.

Well, I intended to be conservative because I was so surprised at my own realization at the beginning of April. But I remind myself (and all of you) that things happen “gradually, then suddenly.” It now looks to me like the iPad — joined as it will be by a flood of new ereaders and tablets and even whole new platforms like Blio and Copia — may be the catalyst for the transition encapsuled in those three words.

When I examined the Random House tactic of staying out of the iBook store initially, I said it made sense but that it constituted a bet that iBooks sales wouldn’t be robust right out of the box. Now that sales results seem to have proven that conjecture (which I shared) wrong, I’d expect that Random House will join the other big publishers in moving to the Agency model to enable them to join the iBook offering. The numbers we discuss in this piece would suggest they’re losing sales and the agents representing the authors not in the iBooks store are bound to be pointing that out. In the meantime, Random House has gained some benefits from having less expensive ebooks in the marketplace in other storefronts, but it would be surprising if that compensated for not having an outlet selling 12% or more of the ebook units.


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What I Would Have Said in London, Part 2


This is the 2nd of a 4-part post spelling out what I would have said if I had appeared at the Annual General Meeting of the UK Publishers Association on Wednesday, April 28, and not been cancelled by a volcano. Part 1 set the stage, spelling out how much change can take place in 20 years. This post offers a vision of the world of information and entertainment (or what we today think of as the world of “content”) 20 years from now. Part 3 will suggest what a publisher’s role can be in the new paradigm and Part 4 will take a shorter view, looking at the change we should expect in the next 2 or 3 years.

If we accept that 20 years is time for things to change a lot and with the belief that the pace of change in the world of information and entertainment is accelerating because of digital technology, here’s a view of what happens to content, audiences, and what will pass for “publishing” 20 years from now.

I’d expect that 20 years from now, the “local” hard drive will be relatively unimportant: a relatively short-term “emergency” cache for the rare moments when you aren’t easily connected to the network (the internet.) Data — all data, including everything you think you “own” — will live in “the cloud.” Kids in 2030 will find it as quaint to think of not being able to get at your files except by getting to your own computer as kids today would think it was to not be able to call somebody unless you could find a phone booth and they were at home (which was the situation 20 years ago.) Local storage may be seen by some as a virtue, but it is a virtue manufactured of necessity. It’s actually a hindrance. We will very shortly expect to get at all our files at any time based on a password or an iris scan or a fingerprint or some combination thereof (depending on our need for security.)

And we’ll access those files through a multiplicity of devices, which by then will really just be screens of varying descriptions with online access. There will be big ones that hang on our walls for us to watch movies on and to put a Picasso in when we’re not watching a movie. There will be small ones, foldable ones, and ones that come in rolls where you can use whatever roll width suits your immediate purpose. With your password, you’ll be able to use my screen for your data, just as you can use my computer to get at your gmail account today. There will be screens you can write and underline on which will store your markings (to share or not, as you choose.)

(I don’t want to get into the fact that we’re working toward converting a phone conversation into having the hologram of the person on the other end in the room for your chat, and I don’t know enough to know the timetable for that, but maybe we’ll get there in 20 years too!)

When screen technology progresses sufficiently, the idea of using paper will become a total anachronism. Paper won’t record and store your notes or annotations; screens will. For any volume of content, paper gets heavy. Screens don’t. If you could call anything up on a screen in your pocket that you could get today on paper, why would you want the paper? Nobody will, except for the artistic value that is associated with antiques. Paper won’t even be as good as a screen for your grocery shopping list. (I am imagining that my wife would be able to add an item or two to the screen list I have folded in my back pocket while I’m walking to the store.)

Even illustrated and coffee table books will be just about defunct, except as pure works of art. Screens will be able to deliver better image quality with more flexibility: to blow up the image, or rotate it (which you can see in the “Elements” ebook on the iPad today.) Screens can deliver you the accompanying text on top of the image for you to read it and then “take it away” for you to see the image alone. Books can’t do that.

Now, if this becomes true, it obviously changes the face of publishing. If distribution of all content is digital, and it is hard to see why it would not be, then the list of businesses that exist today that won’t exist in 20 years is a long one. Bookstores will exist, but they’ll be curiosity shops carrying used books and perhaps a handful of printed-on-demand newer items for the few print-pervy holdouts that remain (and 20 years from now, there will still be some.) It is hard to see survival for newsstands. Printing may still exist for packaging, but it won’t for newpapers, magazines, or books (except for the handful printed-on-demand.)

The change for publishers, though, is far more profound than a simple change in delivery mechanism would suggest. Publishers, indeed all commercial media in our lifetime, have been defined primarily by format. Some do books; some do magazines; some do newspapers. Others called producers do movies or television or radio. The capital and skill set requirements for a format effectively channeled the media company. For the most part, big media was not topic- or subject-specific; it was format-specific.

But when the exchange between publisher and content consumer becomes a file, rather than a book or magazine or movie or TV show, then format becomes irrelevant. A file can hold any of the formats we have historically thought of: text, photographs, diagrams, maps, video, audio. A file can also hold games and productivity software. So the publisher that is limited by the formats of the 20th century will not be competitive in the cloud-and-screen based media exchange of the future.

Wrapping our heads around the transition from physical media to digital gives some clues to how publishing and publishers will have to change to survive, but there’s another aspect of the web development we can expect over the next 20 years that is just as important. We call that the shift from “horizontal media” to “vertical.”

We’ve seen that media have been defined by format. The companion thought is that media have rarely been defined by topic or subject. Whether you’re talking about CBS or the BBC, The New York Times or the Times of London, or Random House in either country, the subject of the content is not limited. These companies will cover news, sports, public affairs, science, every academic discipline at some level, and pure entertainment. Except in the spheres where publishing exists in service to or as an extension of another establishment (educational, academic, professional), the primary identify of most publishers of scale is by their format, not their audience.

But we already see that the Web has changed that. Even superficially-”horizontal” brands on the web — Huffington Post and Gawker being two examples that are popular in the US — serve pretty specific interests (politics and celebrity, respectively, in these two cases.) And there are far more examples of new successful web brands which are subject specific: on sports, politics, women’s interest, health, crafts, cars. These businesses are built, first of all, on repeat visitors to a particular web site. But when they’re smart, they add user-generated content which turns into databases. They have lengthy comment strings to their blogposts which attract an audience of their own.

And they are building the publishing brands of 2030.

When we lived in a world of physically-produced and hand-delivered content, barriers of cost and scale effectively kept content scarce. It is no longer. Anybody who creates any content today can make it available to the world for no incremental cost if they have a web connection. Lots of professional content creators — individual and institutional — feel it is in their best interest to make content available without charge on the Web (sometimes with advertising support; sometimes not.)  A consumer 20 years ago couldn’t read good writing and watch videos all day about whatever is their favorite subject for free unless they went to a library, where access would be bureacratic and cumbersome. A consumer with a web connection today surely can. All of this inevitably reduces the price anybody can charge for a competing piece of content in any form.

Here’s the important point for publishers to take on board. Content is being devalued by technology. This is inexorable. It is not anybody’s fault. It is not in anybody’s power to change it. The price consumers will be willing to pay for content is going to go down because of the laws of supply and demand. It is true that professional content creators can benefit from efficiencies and cost savings offered by the same technologies, so the loss of revenue doesn’t necessarily translate into an equivalent loss of income or profit. But the general direction is one way: down. Businesses that depend on monetizing the content they create will continue to be increasingly challenged over the next 20 years as they have been over the last 10. This won’t end well for the formula of creating content and selling it.

But if the price of content must inexorably go down because of the laws of supply and demand, publishers should look at what might go up for the same reason. And what will become more valuable over time is the audience looking at the content. Content won’t be scarce and command revenue, but human attention will. As the world verticalizes, the owner or controller of the web community that has (for example) the gardeners will be the one to decide what new gardening content is needed. However it is montetized — by standalone sale, or as part of a subscription, or supported by advertising, or underwritten by a sponsor — the control will belong to the entity that commands the eyeballs.

What all of this means, taken together, is that the successful publisher of the year 2030 will own a web community which is both a principal source of content and provides the audience for it. The community will not be content-centric alone; but we aren’t getting into that in more detail right now because sketching out the whole concept for “vortals” is “out of scope” for this exercise.

The publisher who owns “knitting”, or perhaps “knitting sweaters”, will develop and curate the content and control access to the audience just as surely as a major publisher has controlled access to bookstores shelves or a newspaper publisher to newsstand sales in our lifetimes.

Without bookstores and without any general marketplace dedicated to the sale of “books” as a format, the idea of a General Trade Publisher will have no meaning.

That’s 20 years away so publishers have some time to get from “here” to “there”. But they won’t get “there” by staying “here.”


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