For years I have waited for this day. The day that F+W Publications finally decided it would catch up with the times. The day that all F+W Publications' employees could have that satisfying feeling at the end of the day. The day that F+W Publications took a risk, because without risking one's self, how can we find our true self?



Today, we're getting new vending machines. (Photo shows our lobby sign making the announcement.) Now, before you joke, let me describe some of things we have observed or accidentally purchased in the old vending machines:

• Orange Jell-O square with side packet of mayonnaise
• Peeled, boiled eggs floating in a small watery puddle
• Feathery green Sno Balls

We've been told these new vending machines will offer real coffee and even ice cream. And possibly Pepsi in cans.

The Writer's Perspective
The editor of Writer's Digest magazine gives you the inside dirt on how to break into a career in journalism.

Living With the M-Word
Get a nuts-and-bolts overview of essential marketing tools from our marketing manager, Scott Francis.

Guide to Literary Agents
In a recent post, "Principles, Not Rules!" (about the conflicting advice you likely receive from agents), editor Chuck Sambuchino reveals that he's a man after my own heart.

Poetic Asides
Read an exclusive interview with poet Julianna Baggot by Writer's Market editor Robert Brewer.

Questions & Quandaries
For anyone who's been tempted to quote song lyrics in a book or article, read this information first, from WD magazine's online managing editor, Brian Klems.

Alice's CWIM Blog
Discover a self-published children's book that's all about your favorite … herb.

In our office, we keep a little book of quotes where we record the strange, funny, or absurd things that people say, both knowingly and unknowingly. Here is something we captured from early 2007:

“Someone’s buying those books. I have no idea who.”
    —Steve Koenig, (former) F+W National Sales Manager

When you read that, what is your reaction, on this scale of 1 to 5?

5 - Laugh out loud funny!!!
4 - Very amusing!
3 - Huh?
2 - Long and knowing sigh.
1 - Sad silence, with slight downturn of the lips.

The closer you are to the book industry, probably the less funny (or absurd) this quote seems. It reveals what I often call the dirty little secret of (trade) book publishing: We don't know who's buying our books. All we know are the middlemen: the distributors, the wholesalers, the chains, the reps, etc. Many book publishers are experts at working the system to get books distributed, placed, and promoted in outlets far and wide. But are we experts at knowing the reader? Do we know, in the end, who's buying our books off the shelf? In many cases, we do not.

One of the historic best-selling series at F+W is on painting rocks. It all started in 1994 with The Art of Painting Animals on Rocks by Lin Wellford. Over the past 10-15 years, our rock painting books have sold more than 1 million copies. Who's buying these books? Sometimes, we have an idea, when we're able to talk directly to consumers (like through book clubs or at specialized trade shows). But mostly, we don't have a clue.

This is why publishers depend on authors to know their audience/readership, and to develop a platform that can reach readers directly. The publisher is often incapable of doing this effectively or efficiently. Of course, some publishers do have strong direct-to-consumer businesses and know how to promote directly to readers. Rodale is one example. Hay House is another. (Click here to read a fascinating article on how the Hay House business grew, and continues to grow, through its ability to reach consumers.)

In the future, given how technology/digitization is changing how people find and purchase products/content (and how distribution models are changing for all media), the publishers who succeed will be the ones who can directly reach and market to readers, and have expertise in serving that reader—rather than just being expert at driving product to the middleman.

(Thanks to Grace, WD's managing designer, for providing excellent fodder for this post, that is, the quote itself!)

Recently I was having dinner with a friend who doesn't work in publishing (and isn't an aspiring writer). He brought his Amazon Kindle to show off, and since I'd seen one before, I approached the situation with a certain blase attitude. (Please, I know so much about that device already, what are you really going to show me that will impress me?)

For Kindle entertainment purposes, we started a hypothetical argument about a random book, in this case Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer. Right there at the dinner table, we turned on the Kindle, searched for the book in Amazon's Kindle store, and downloaded the full text of the book in seconds, for about 50 cents. (For those who don't know, the Kindle is a wireless device; you don't have to sync it or connect it to a computer to download new books. Plus there is no fee associated with the wireless service. If you have the device, it simply works without further subscriptions or payments.) I believe you can download the entire works of Shakespeare for a couple dollars. Bestsellers are priced higher, at 9.99.

In the past couple months, I've received more questions than usual from writers who want to know about e-publishing trends. And I always have to ask in return: Well, what kind of e-publishing do you want to know about? Around 2000, the major publishers (before the dot-com fallout) launched new divisions dedicated to e-books, and they all failed. At that time, there wasn't a device like the Kindle, and no standard format for e-books. Plus the reading experience (as far as reading on a screen) wasn't very advanced. Many writers, when they ask the e-publishing question, are really asking about that debacle.

Others are really asking about e-publishers (e.g., Hard Shell Word Factory) who base their business on acquiring and selling e-books (and sometimes releasing them in paperback). These publishers have had some challenges in proving their legitimacy, but the best of them have a very targeted audience and serve that audience well (e.g., Ellora's Cave).

And still others think of e-publishing as what an author might do to self-publish on the cheap (like posting your novel in PDF form on your own Web site or through a company like Lulu).

The problem, perhaps, is that "e-publishing" is becoming an old-fashioned term. That term doesn't make sense any longer. All publishers (from traditional publishers to e-publishers to self-publishers) should have a strategy for their book (or their content) that takes advantage of multiple formats or at least delivers it in the one format that most of the audience wants. Any publisher that cannot provide content (or a book) in digital format will lose readership and sales. And so now you see publishers rushing to digitize all of their content, and store it in such a way that it can be sliced/diced to suit customer demand and pushed out through many different channels.

So back to the Kindle. It is flawed (it's a first-generation device after all), but the experience of using it immediately gives you a vision of how people will consume content or buy books in the future. I have three hefty bookshelves at home, and most are filled with titles that I've kept for reference for 10 years. Would I have been happy to see those stored on a Kindle instead of boxing them up eight times (because that's how many times I've moved in the past 10 years)? Absolutely.

Eventually, all books (from all publishers) will be available in digital form, and the only details to hash out are whether you will receive the electronic version for free when you purchase the print book, or if electronic books will be sold more cheaply than print books, or whatever. I have yet to see any organization figure out the economics behind it, and for the most part, e-books from traditional publishers have been priced too high (until Kindle). However, one publisher that has consistently had the most enlightened and progressive strategy is O'Reilly (which also runs an excellent conference for publishers called Tools of Change).

In some cases, readers will only desire the content in digital form (and never in print form), and everyone knows that traditional print runs will be greatly reduced and in some cases completely disappear for certain types of work. Yesterday, I read in the New York Times that there are no plans to print a new edition of the Oxford English Dictionary. Of course it will continue to exist, but in digital form. I don't consider that a trend as much as the biggest paradigm shift in book publishing since Gutenberg.

New York magazine has published an article on Random House's Peter Olson, who will soon be stepping down from his position as CEO. It provides a quick overview of what Olson did to change Random House, but why, perhaps, his changes did not lead to the company's longterm success. Of course there are many measures of success, and this article greatly simplifies matters, but the most interesting tidbit:

Random’s size became a liability. Even with megahits like Bill Clinton’s memoir and The Da Vinci Code, the company’s annual revenue has been stagnant. To maintain its 20 percent share, the company has to publish around 2,000 titles, while more-efficient rivals like Hachette do under 500 titles for about 10 percent of the market. It’s a quarter of the work for half as much market share.

The publishing stars of the last ten years were small, crafty outfits able to exploit a niche: Miramax had a magic touch with publicity, Judith Regan’s company-within-a-company made the most of the cable-TV freak show, and Regnery mined conservative politics. Demand driven by product and publicity—Oprah, The Daily Show, and Today—replaced distribution. Margins followed. Olson’s company was too big to easily adapt.

So I take away two lessons for the future of publishing:

• Publishing more titles doesn't mean we profit more. (Less work can actually be better!) We must be aware, we must be intentional in what we are publishing.
  
• The mantra I repeat to writers/authors: Exploit a niche. Exploit a niche. Exploit a niche. You have to know what you're about, be passionate about it, and not ask forgiveness for it or be embarrassed by it (think Judith Regan).

I was catching up on my reading this past week, and stumbled upon this gem from a Poets & Writers interview with literary agent Nat Sobel:

"I don't get too many form rejection letters anymore. I usually respond by sending my own form rejection letter to the editor. I tell the editor, 'Our agency no longer accepts form rejection letters and we have decided to remove you from our submission list.' … The editors who tell you specifically what it is that they didn't like about the book are valuable. And you don't get too much of that."

It might be comforting for writers to know that even wonderful agents (like Nat Sobel) can have a difficult time receiving a (or any) response from editors. I have to say, though, that I never dreamed an editor would send a form rejection to an agent. (I don't even send form rejections to authors!) It just feels like bad business, especially if you're counting on agents to send you their best stuff, and if you want them to see how you'll do a good job as, well, you know, an editor, an editor being someone who can actually respond intelligently to someone's work and recommend changes (although Nat says there are two kinds of editors these days: the acquiring editor and the hands-on editor who also acquires, the latter being in short supply).

The interview with Nat is very lengthy, but every word is worthwhile. Highly recommend.

This past week, I've been putting the final touches on a Fall 2008 title, The Serfitt & Cloye Gift Catalog by Bob Woodiwiss, from TOW Books. It's a parody of the gift catalogs you probably receive from luxury retailers. Here is one of my favorite catalog items. (Illustration by Andrea Jensen.)

FICTIONALIZATION
For anyone who’s ever dreamed of being a character in a Jane Austen novel. For the fiction lover who feels that in reading Yossarian’s, Gatsby’s, Karenina’s, or Portnoy’s story that she is reading her own. For the person who always thought she’d pour her heart into the creation of a great book one day, but now knows there’s a faster, easier way. Yes, for all these literature lovers and more, may we suggest Fictionalization. With Fictionalization, you give the gift of fictional life. Because your name (or the name of whomever you should choose to designate) will replace the name of your favorite fictional character throughout any classic, near-classic, or pulp novel. Name substitution will begin with a newly published edition that will replace all existing editions and shall continue in perpetuity, that is, in all subsequent printings of your selected title for all time. Demand is already hot, so make your reservation now. Titles already in production include Flaubert’s Madame Winfrey, Burroughs’s Murdoch of the Apes, and Shakespeare’s Rosie O[’Donnell] & Juliet. Hundreds of other titles available. Fictionalization: from $100,000 (Friar Tuck level) to $100 million (Jesus Christ level).

In today's PublishersLunch, there's a news brief on third-quarter results at HarperCollins; as usual, Jane Friedman gives her analysis:

"The one soft spot is Zondervan, which is not a new story," Friedman says. "What's going on in the CBA ... is pretty scary," she observes, adding that "the CBA is really diminishing and I'm not one who thinks it's going to recover any time soon." With Christian customers buying more product in the general market, Friedman says that Zondervan's books need to "have the content and look for the general market." Friedman believes that "what Nelson is doing is absolutely correct" in trimming and refocusing their list and says "we're also looking at our title count. Zondervan has to publish fewer books and focus on more of the books that have the potential" to work in the general markets. On the brighter side, Friedman notes that "spirituality is going through the roof," with the company benefiting via the Harper One division.

What genius that both Jane Friedmans are in agreement over Nelson -- and reducing title count!

Just this afternoon, I finished assembling the first draft of our conference program (WDB/BEA Writers Conference on May 28, 2008).

It features:

• what agents are looking for in the pitch slam
• full descriptions of all breakout sessions

Click here to download the PDF.

Just yesterday Galleycat referenced a Bloomberg article, "As Books Fill Dumps, Publishers Target Return Policy" by Edward Nawotka.

The article is a good overview of the book publishing industry's return policy -- or a good overview of how wasteful and insane it all appears to outsiders.

Here are the basics, for those unschooled in returns:

• All books are sold to bookstores on a returnable basis. Books can be returned at any time, for any reason, for full credit.
• Today the industry-wide return rate is about 30 percent. That means 30% of books that are shipped to stores are eventually returned to the publisher. (Returned product may be resold, remaindered, or destroyed.)
• When thinking about book sales, authors should always think in terms of "sell-in" and "sell-through." Publishers sell the books INTO the stores, but those books haven't actually sold until they sell THROUGH the register into the hands of a consumer. Book authors may see reassuring sales figures on their royalty statements during the first 6-12 months of release, but those sales figures may actually DECREASE if returns are heavy. Some publishers even reserve the right (in an author's contract) to withhold royalty payments as a reserve against anticipated returns.

What particularly caught my eye in the Bloomberg article was a quote from a Publishers Weekly editor, Jim Milliot. He comments on an effort by Robert Miller at HarperCollins (run by publishing genius Jane Friedman!) to create a new imprint that will work on a nonreturnable basis, among other innovative things. He says:

"It would require Random House or HarperCollins to develop an entirely new business model, and that is not going to happen."

Aside from the fact that the book business is undergoing tremendous change due to advancing technology and digitization of content, is publishing's current business model exactly a desirable or profitable one? Isn't it about time that we found a way to do business that actually makes sense and doesn't waste millions of dollars?

We have to develop an entirely new business model—fast—if we want to keep readers (even grow readership?), if we love books, if we love our jobs. (To see another publishing company that knows how to transform a business model, see my previous post about Thomas Nelson cutting back its list.)