Sourcebooks

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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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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What I Would Have Said in London, Part 3


This is the third of four posts covering the subject matter of an address I had hoped to make to the Publishers Association in London on April 28 but which was cancelled by the Iceland volcano. In the first post, we explored the nature of change in publishing and I tried to underscore how much disruption technology can cause in media in a 20-year period. In the second post, I sketched a vision of what I thought the communication ecosystem will look like 20 years from now. In this post, I outline what I expect the new prevailing model will become and look for some current efforts that point to it. And the last post in this group will take a more short-term view and discuss some changes we might expect to see in the next three years.

Over the next 20 years, the power to put books on store shelves — or, for non-trade publishers: the power to put “books” into people’s hands by other means — will lose its leverage. It won’t provide marketplace advantage anymore. And furthermore, the channels of remuneration for content won’t be book-specific, so there will be no particular efficiency and probably some competitive disadvantage to being a specialist delivering books, or content in book-length and book-form.

At the same time, and not necessarily connected, content-and-community worlds will become increasingly evident on the Web. An advertising agency in New York called Verso has already seen the opportunity in creating vertical “channels”: collections of 100 or 150 web sites that are topic-specific. Their first thought was to sell publishers on targeted advertising campaigns working those channels. I am sure many more opportunities to market through those logical and topic-selected collections of sites will become evident over time.

What I’m imagining is that web “front ends” will develop to all these subjects. Google is one way to search for Paris, France, and find double-digit millions of possible pieces of content. But the concept of a thoughtful and organized AllParis.com (instead of the ad-driven uncurated link farm you get from that URL now) seems inevitable. Imagine that everything that today has a Wikipedia entry had organized and crowd-enhanced access to bloggers, references, lists of books, related travel information, and, most of all, connections to the people who were thinking, writing, researching, and living out that thing. I believe that’s will we’ll see develop over time, organically and driven by commercial awareness as people how to make money by fostering it.

There are a handful of signposts to what I’m thinking about in our experience already. The most fully developed version of this vision is the Publishers Marketplace community built, from scratch and with no outside capital at all, by Michael Cader. Starting with one of the earliest, and still one of the best-executed, versions of a daily newsletter built on links to the most relevant posted content of the last 24 hours, Cader has built a community of thousands of members paying substantial fees for the benefit of being part of it. I could do a whole series of blogposts on the Marketplace site alone; I won’t. But if you’re a publisher seriously trying to envision a future, you should spend some time with it. And keep two things in mind:

1. He did it with no money.

2. He did it by using content as bait, to attract eyeballs, and he monetized the community.

Michael Cader has a very unique set of personal skills that enabled him to do it with no money. But the process of content as bait to attract the eyeballs and then providing tools, features, and databaes to monetize the community is one we will see replicated many times in the next 20 years to build many brands that will, in effect, be the publishing community of the 21st century.

Another example of doing this right that has recently debuted is from Sourcebooks and it’s called Poetry Speaks. Dominique Raccah, the Publisher (and owner) at Sourcebooks, has published poetry successfully for many years. She’s also navigated the world of sound, selling CD-and-book packages for well over a decade. Maybe that helped, or maybe it was just “vision”, but in Poetry Speaks she’s created a site that is “open” to all poets and poetry publishers. It provides tools and it provides reasons for the poets and the fans of poets and poetry to gather and interact. Yes, the site sells poems and books and audios, but “buy this book” doesn’t hit you in the face. Poetry does.

Our client Sterling Publishing is moving ahead with a web community initiative based on their publishing assets in photography. Joe Craven, who spearheads new business initiatives, looked ahead to the sales decline of their key lists in that subjects. He figured it was worth a shot to put lots of content on the web for free, attract a community, and then try to monetize the community. As a result, there will be a major web effort launching this Fall. Pixiq will use an editorial team already in place to build out a web presence, using legacy content, acquriing content through relationships they had developed from long experience, and leveraging professional and semi-professional connections built over many years of publishing to the audiences of professional, semi-professional, and amateur photographers.

Oxford University Press has just launched a new initiative which represents another way to develop a vertical called Oxford Bibliographies Online. They’re using their considerable academic expertise to delivered curated and constantly updated bibliographies by subject as a subscription product. This is brand new and just announced, but the idea has promise as one that will give them a unique position in each discipline for which they implement it and which can be a component of a vertical strategy in less academically-intense areas. Although the OUP initiative will garner subscribers mostly from institutional library customers, one would think Sourcebooks and Sterling will watch OBO with some interest. Surely, the function of curation being served here will be applicable to Poetry Speaks and Pixaq as well.

Both Sourcebooks and Sterling are aware of the fact that the web activity they are generating to create these communities can also be useful to sell books. But in the forefront of their thinking is  ”the community”: what people they are trying to attract and what they can give those people that will make them come, stay, create value, and perceive value. The fact that any thought of immediate book merchandising is secondary is what makes these initiatives stand out to me. And both of these sites will, in time, develop real business models that are hardly dependent on content sales at all. That’s already true of Publishers Marketplace.

By creating a brand and a community for their sites which is really independent of the parochial interests of their own publishing programs, it makes it much more likely that Poetry Speaks and Pixiq can, in time, become important components of their competitor’s marketing efforts. Which side of that fence do you want to be on for the most important subjects you publish?


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With new opportunities come new challenges


This blog and my speeches contain frequent references to what we see as the big shifts the book publishing industry, and some publishers more than others, are feeling. The horizontal and format-specific product-centric media of the 20th century are inexorably yielding to the vertical and format-agnostic community-centric delivery environment for content that will soon predominate.

In that context, we’ve observed that the most general publishers are the most challenged. The distinction between publisher and retailer is blurring; in a decade or two it will be a distinction without much difference. What has always been the source of competitive advantage to trade publishers is leverage; they could reach thousands, tens of thousands, or even millions of customers for their wares through retail channels that aggregated audiences for content creators and curated content for consumers.

The non-trade components of the book business: publishers of textbooks, professional information, databases, and academic content already tended to specialize by subject so the challenge of being audience-specific, a prerequesite to creating community, had already been met. Non-trade publishers had never depended much on horizontal intermediaries. Even in college textbook publishing, which depended (and still largely does) on the college bookstore to actually deliver the product and collect the consumer’s money, the marketing component of the bookstore’s contribution was and is minimal. The publisher works vertically through a network of professors to drive adoptions, and adoptions are what drive the sales.

Trade publishers, which are called trade publishers because they reach consumers through “the trade” network of bookstores, libraries, and the wholesalers that serve them, have been generally alert since the 1970s to the importance of what are generically called “special sales”. Those are sales that come from outside the book trade, often from retailers in other channels. Special sales experts learned pretty quickly that you did better when you had a selection of books for an audience. If you had one book of Jewish interest, you couldn’t do much with it. If you had a dozen, it could make sense to buy a mailing lists of rabbis. If you had one home repair book, you couldn’t afford the cost of setting up relationships with retailers of hardware or construction materials (particularly thinking back to days before those outlets had consolidated into giant retailers like Home Depot and Loew’s.) But if you had a list, then the mutual interest in a relationship was obvious to both sides.

Some publishers specialized. When I was consulting with Wiley in the 1980s as they were developing their fledgling trade program, they brought their philosophy of really covering the needs of a vertical market from sci-tech to trade. They didn’t want just one resume book for job-hunters: they wanted one at every sensible price point and different ones for different kinds of jobs. One day a sales rep called in from the road to suggest that they deliver a book on the cover letters that should go out with resumes. They already knew they had a market through specialized customers of all kinds and through their direct mail efforts. The lists that worked for resume books would also work for cover letter books.

The most “general” of the general trade publishers tended not to develop the same depth of specialized lists. When Wiley considered that cover letter book, they knew they’d be able to sell it very efficiently and they knew it would enhance their relationship with individuals and channel partners through and to which they were already selling a lot of books. Would the cover letter book be big? Possibly not, but it didn’t have to be to make it clearly worth doing.

But the big trade houses were not built that way. And the biggest books, the sexiest books, the most exciting books, don’t tend to be in niches. In fact, niche identification can dampen sales in a general trade market. The CEO of a major house told me a couple of years ago that he didn’t want to label a book that could become a betseller a “mystery” title. Mystery was a “category” (read: “niche”) and, while those books tended to meet theshhold expectations more readily, he perceived them as harder to break out to the sales levels they could achieve if they were perceived as unique.

We are now seeing the early signs of what will soon be a tendency, then a trend, and then a stark reality: you just can’t sell as many copies of most books if you don’t have a proprietary position with a vertical audience. The early signs are evident through companies like O’Reilly Media (computer programming and technology), Hay House (mind body spirit), Chelsea Green (sustainable living), Harvard Common Press (cookbooks and pregnancy-childbirth), and F+W Media (several niches, including writers and crafts), which have special retail channels and huge email lists of individual customers that the big houses simply don’t. Niche by niche, the big houses will find it impractical to publish in areas that were once productive for them. Their need for each book to be “big” individually — for the single title to provide its own critical mass — works against what you must do to be “big” in a niche. To do that requires a more across-the-list kind of thinking that is counterintuitive to a company that makes the lion’s share of its sales through trade channels.

So for just about all the books that aren’t novels, memoirs, celebrity-driven, or epic works of popular history or politics, trade publishers are increasingly handicapped. Unfortunately for them, things are going to get worse.

The obvious problem is that the capacity of the general trade market to merchandise and move product is diminishing. I hate to invoke the old wisdom that many things happen “gradually, then suddenly”, but it is often true and we have been gradually losing bookstores for the past decade. What happens to the economics of the big publishers if we lose a big chunk of superstores pretty suddenly?

I recall a dinner conversation with the Chairman  of a large diversified multi-niche publisher two years ago. Even back then, we were speculating about the possible sudden demise of Borders. (Hey! It hasn’t happened; maybe we were wrong!) My dinner companion said, “you know, Mike, we’re as diversified as a publisher can be, but if Borders went out, we’d definitely feel it. It would really hurt us.”

“Temporarily,” I said. He needed me to explain.

“Sure, you’ll suffer a bad debt if they go out. That hurts right now. But over the next couple of years, you’ll get a lot of cheap and useful assets from competitors of yours that couldn’t withstand the blow. By a couple of years from now, you’ll be ahead.”

“You may be right,” he said.

So even with the obvious problem, a multi-niche publisher has a big advantage over a general publisher, just as it does over smaller niche players. But the ground for the general publishers is about to shift in ways that will be even more challenging.

Because “book publishing” in an increasingly vertical world is less and less about content sales in the unit of “books” (although that will be the lion’s share of revenue for a long time) and more and more about sales bigger than the book (databases that stretch across many books and other things too) or smaller than the book (chapters or fragments that naturally stand alone or which address a particular content need.) The iPhone app as a unit of delivery is accelerating the latter trend. The value of a database across titles has long been demonstrated by O’Reilly’s “Safari” offering, which generates more revenue for them than all but one trade account.

As the percentage of a publisher’s revenue that is generated by fragments and aggregations rises, so does the value of being vertical and, especially, so does the value of a direct relationship with the end users. The fragments piece is especially important, especially challenging, and requires new ways of thinking (and perhaps new contracts.) For example, Dominique Raccah, the visionary leader of Sourcebooks, whose Poetry Speaks is building a model for vertical community building, has found that many publishers of poetry aren’t sure they have the rights to license her vertical to sell individual poems! Does that mean she has to go directly to the poets for those rights? And how long will it be before it is more important to a poet to have their individual poems available for sale on Poetry Speaks than to have them available in a publisher’s collection bound as a book?

Bruce Shaw, the longtime empresario of Harvard Common Press, is demonstrating another aspect of this thinking that we’ve expected for a long time but hadn’t seen in practice before. He told us about a macaroni and cheese cookbook his house was considering for publication. Normally, Bruce reports, that’s a subject they’d skip because it just isn’t distinctive enough to make the ambitous sales targets he normally sets for print publications. But, in this case, he’s doing the book because his overall recipe database (all the thousands of recipes HCP has published in over 30 years in business) is light on mac and cheese recipes. So he’s willing to publish the book, knowing he’s going to make less profit than he normally requires, because it is a subsidized way to improve the value of his overall database of recipes.

The question of selling fragments opens up a host of other challenges: figuring out what is a saleable fragment, tagging it with an identifier and metadata, managing transaction costs for a much higher volume or low-value transactions, and retro-fitting accounting systems to process author royalties that will require increasingly complex analysis of smaller amounts of money.

In fact, there is opportunity on what might be viewed as a micro- or nano-level of transaction, too small for even a niche publisher to manage the customer relationship and the transaction. That is going to present new opportunities for our client, Copyright Clearance Center, which we’ll elaborate on in future posts.

There’s a great deal of new opportunity out there but a lot of it is in pennies, not hundred dollar bills.

Let’s hear it for Wifi in the air! This is the first post for The Shatzkin Files filed from an airplane. Boy, did I have fun at Spring Training!


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The wild weekend of Amazon and Macmillan


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Here’s a real vertical: PoetrySpeaks.com


I have been imagining “verticals” for more than ten years. My BEA speech earlier this year postulated that publishing power would shift from controlling “IP” to controlling “eyeballs.”

Lots of publishers have complimented me on my insights and have told me “we’re thinking along the same lines.” But what I see are mostly product catalogs organized vertically. Or some other variation of “we provide the content, you provide the audience.” That’s a start, but it isn’t a vertical that will lead to control of eyeballs.

Now, everybody’s got a model to follow. Dominique Raccah, the empresario of Sourcebooks, unveiled PoetrySpeaks.com today. THIS is the beginning of a real vertical portal!

Sourcebooks has already made the major breakthrough of creating poetry bestsellers (are they the first since Rod McKuen 30 or 40 years ago?) They did it by adding CDs with sound to the printed word and they did it with a printed book, not an online combination. So they already have demonstrated a commercial sense for the poetry market that is unique.

But PoetrySpeaks gets past the product and goes to the heart of community: they provide service. They give every poet a reason to come to them and use them. They provide tools to post poetry, critique poetry, share poetry, speak poetry, and sell poetry. They thought through the business models so that other poetry publishers can play and make money, and you can bet that, later if not sooner or immediately, they all will.

They’ve thought it through from the perspective of many stakeholders: poets, of course; but also poetry publishers, poetry professors, poetry fans, poetry devotees. Another way of saying “vortal” is “all things…” and PoetrySpeaks is on its way to being “all things Poetry.”

The revenue models, to start, all are based on selling poetry content and tickets to slams, readings, and online performances. That’s fine. But I’ll bet that within two years there’s another one: selling memberships to a premium level of access to other poets, teachers, critics, and workshops (a la the model of PublishersMarketplace.) And I’ll bet there will be databases of people and poetry and tools and ideas that will have been crowd-sourced, have extraordinary value, and effectively head off anybody else from competing for what it will have become. (As Publishers Marketplace has done.)

PoetrySpeaks is a vertical site that doesn’t lean on trying to sell you something; it presents itself as a service to the community. Hats off to a publisher that is still selling books by the boatload, even poetry books, but that also recognizes that future success requires an entirely different model.

Yes, there are thing missing. I didn’t see a blogroll (although there is a blog) and the site doesn’t appear to acknowledge whatever other poetry activity now exists on the web. I’m sure eventually it will. There’s room for a history of poetry, and a bunch of poetry bookshelves. They need more content about poetry. If there’s an FAQ there that explains iambic pentameter, I missed it. But their community will create these things over time. PoetrySpeaks has the bait that will make it “the online place the poets hang out.” All else will follow.

One observation by Michael Cader in his write-up on this that I want to echo and stress. He observes that you do not have to be a market leader in a vertical to take a leadership position. Undoubtedly, there are many publishers who, despite Sourcebooks’s poetry bestsellers consider themselves to be much more committed to poetry publishing than Sourcebooks has been. But anybody committed to poetry publishing will be saying one thing to Sourcebooks: thank you very much.

Dominique showed PoetrySpeaks to me and to Guy Gonzalez of F+W at the Frankfurt Book Fair under a strict NDA. We were sworn to secrecy and revealed nothing, but persuaded our colleagues to carve out a feature spot for Dominique to deliver our audience an update on this project as part of our first morning session on January 26. One more reason to sign up for Digital Book World.


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Holding back the ebook


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Aside from the publishers: how the other stakeholders fare as ebook adoption continues


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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The Sourcebooks experiment with Bran Hambric: publishers in the early “establishment” stage of ebook adoption


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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A context in which to evaluate ebook strategies


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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