Sounds & Fury

Heads-Up

[Note: This post has been updated (1) as of 8:33 AM Eastern on 15 Jan. See below.]

Undoubtedly due the huge (and justified) success of his book, The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century, Alex Ross, long passed over by the show’s producers, will at last be interviewed tonight on PBS’s The Charlie Rose Show.

Be there or be square!

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Update (8:33 AM Eastern on 15 Jan): Might we also suggest to Alex that in addition to taking to heart The Standing Room’s excellent suggestion to “please, please bitchslap him when he tries to talk over you,” that before answering any of Mr. Rose’s epic-length questions, he first pause a beat or two to make certain Mr. Rose's mini-disquisition-posing-as-a-question is done, then, in a benign tone of voice, innocently reply, “I'm sorry, is there a question buried somewhere in all that?”

Just a suggestion.

Doing What Needs To Be Done

In October of last year, I wrote a post titled “Dead In The Water” which gave a brief account of the end of my brief POD self-publishing adventure involving my “cozy” mystery novel, A Deed of Dreadful Note. What it said, in short, was that I was unwilling to do what I finally saw needs to be done in order to give the novel even a chance of commercial success.

In today’s Boston Globe there’s a story about one, Brunonia Barry, an author who took a similar POD self-publishing route for her first mystery novel, The Lace Reader, who was willing to do what needs to be done in order to give her novel a chance of commercial success, and ended up by having her self-published novel sold to a mainstream publisher, William Morrow, in a literary auction which netted Ms. Barry a $2M advance for the novel and for an additional one in future.

And what had to be done by Ms. Barry in order to achieve this admittedly singular result? Here’s a sampling:

Barry and [Gary] Ward [Barry’s husband] were willing to do all [that needed to be done], and spen[t] freely in the process — more than $50,000 before they were finished....

[...]

By early last year, they were ready to test the market. The manager of The Spirit of '76 Bookstore in Marblehead put them in touch with store-based book clubs, whose members said they would be willing to test-read the manuscript.

"I would go to the meetings and take notes," Barry said. "I asked them to be brutally honest: 'Where did you stop reading? Did you identify with this character? What did you think of the mother?'" With the feedback, she made some minor changes.

They incorporated their company as Flap Jacket Press and planned to release The Lace Reader last September. They set up a website and hired a copy editor, jacket designer, and book publicist, Kelley & Hall of Marblehead. They attended bookseller conventions, handing out advance copies and buttonholing booksellers. Kelley & Hall sent copies to book bloggers and trade magazines such as Publishers Weekly and promotional announcements to 700 independent bookstores.

Then last summer came two big breaks: First, Kelley & Hall helped lan[d] a deal with a Tennessee distributor, Blu Sky Media Group; second, a rave review appeared in Publishers Weekly. The Lace Reader was hailed as "a captivating debut."

Still, the couple had to close the deal with booksellers. They ordered a first printing of 2,500, then began to visit stores, trying to get them to stock the book. Among the first was Salem's Cornerstone Books.

"Sandy [Ms. Barry’s nickname] dropped her book off," said Beth Simpson, events coordinator of Cornerstone Books in Salem. "I didn't know her. I like to do an author appearance to generate interest; otherwise the book will just sit on the shelf." She arranged to have Barry do a reading, then called Salem and Marblehead newspapers, which ran stories about the reading.

"That generated incredible interest," Simpson said. "We had a handful of people a day coming in, asking if we had the book. At the appearance, we had about 40 people, which was a big crowd for an unknown author. We sold out in a blink — probably 80 to 100 books. We don't sell 80 to 100 books of Stephen King or Dennis Lehane."

Word spread. Several teachers read the book, and both Swampscott and Marblehead high schools added it to the literature curriculum.

That’s what needs to be done, all right, not to mention that the novel itself has to be worth the time, effort, and money involved.

In writing this post I don’t for an instant mean to even imply that had I done the same for my novel that it would have achieved even a small fraction of the success now enjoyed by Ms. Barry’s novel. She’s apparently a genuine writer who wrote a genuine novel, not some dilettante who turned out a tiny-niche-market genre novel on a whim; a genre novel that was more manufactured to formula than written. In writing this post it’s my intention to point out that in today’s world self-publishing need no longer be a mere exercise in vanity as it has been since forever, but is today a commercially viable publishing route for an author to follow in order to get his work out to the public and make money from the enterprise into the bargain. Perhaps not the kind of money made by Ms. Barry — in that respect, her case is quite exceptional — but enough for a genuine writer to make writing and marketing his own work a profitable fulltime occupation.

It’s a brave new publishing world out there.

Sonofagun!

Despite an almost total lack of promotion and publicity, my adventure in POD publishing — the “cozy” mystery novel, A Deed of Dreadful Note — is now listed by and available for purchase from booksellers Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and Borders.

Sonofagun! Makes one feel like a real author, it does, even though the listings do need some corrections (being handled now by the publisher, Lulupress).

The Day Of The Digital Book

Read this January 2006 blog post. Then peruse this product page for the details of this just announced device (see Amazon's front page for the actual announcement), and view all the embedded videos. Except for special editions and books of the coffee table sort, The Day Of The Digital Book and the beginning of the death of the paper-and-ink book has arrived — almost. All that’s needed now is a small physical refinement (the device needs a retractable or fold-back cover), and a price tag of $39.00 instead of the current $399.00. Not that far off as soon as Amazon and their partner publishers — which include at the very start every major publisher in the US and some small presses as well — finally understand they’re in the book-selling business, not the electronic hardware business. If they’re really smart about this, they’ll even sell the device at a loss if they have to. Think Gillette and the safety razor.

Dead In The Water

And that’s even before actually jumping in. I’m talking about the promotion phase of my POD self-publishing experiment of course. During this period of enforced waiting until the book has made it through the distribution process and shows up (or, rather, is made available to show up) on booksellers’ online lists and on their brick-&-mortar-store bookshelves (about 8-10 weeks from now), I’ve been investigating what’s available to me promotion-wise, and just what needs to be done in order to promote the book after it’s finally made it through that distribution process, and just an investigatory dipping of my toes into those promotional waters has already overwhelmed me by the impossibility of the demands I now see clearly will be made on me if the promotion is to be even marginally successful.

I’d naively imagined that a satisfactory promotion campaign could be waged for very little money and right from my own living room utilizing the Net almost exclusively. While the Net is an important part of promoting a book today, I now see its use is mostly supplementary. The core of any successful promotion, I discovered very quickly, involves two central elements: 1) getting the book reviewed by established reviewers in established venues; and 2) getting one’s ass out of that comfortable chair in front of one’s computer, and onto The Street to Greet 'n Meet and Press The Flesh of both booksellers and the reading public. Both those elements are sine qua non — quite literally — in any successful book promotion today.

The first is, in practical terms, quite literally impossible for a POD self-published title by an unknown author, and the second, for me personally, is a virtual impossibility. Me, go out on The Street again? Me, Greet 'n Meet and Press The Flesh of actual, real-world, real-live humans?

Not in this life.

To begin with, such a situation would prove an embarrassment for everyone concerned as in short order it would be discovered that I, the author of a mystery fiction novel, never read mystery fiction, and in fact know absolutely nothing about the genre beyond what I was forced to learn before writing A Deed of Dreadful Note by reading ten-gazillion best-selling mystery fiction titles, past and present, over a three-month period — the absolutely longest three months I’ve ever spent — in order to get a grasp of the genre “formula(s)” involved. Never in my life have I been exposed to so much utter literary trash. I confess, however, that it served to encourage me to write Deed, and bolstered my confidence in its future commercial success. I mean, if that utter literary trash saw commercial publication, Deed would be a shoe-in.

Uh-huh. Right.

Further, I’m just not a people-person kind of guy. Not my thing, generally speaking, and most especially so when my sole purpose would be to sell people something. I lack entirely the “Salesman Gene”, and cringe physically at the very thought of having to sell anything to anybody. During my younger days I had the infamous (but secretly cherished by me) reputation of not being able to sell a glass of cool water to a thirst-tortured man in the middle of the Sahara.

All too true, I’m afraid.

So, it seems I’m dead in the water even before jumping in. Too bad, actually. The experiment’s an excellent idea. Just not with me as the experimenter.

Chicken Little Gets The Ax

The Chicken Little of the classical music world, classical music critic and journalist Norman "Hard Facts" Lebrecht, has gotten the ax for laying a particularly bad egg.

For years, the British critic Norman Lebrecht has been throwing firebombs in the world of classical music, denouncing what he sees as industry evils in a provocative style that has sometimes been described as accuracy-challenged.

On Thursday, in an unusually crushing act of contrition, his publisher agreed to recall his latest book, destroy it, say “Sorry” and promise not to do it again — all over a few pages discussing Naxos Records and its founder, Klaus Heymann.

The book, “Maestros, Masterpieces & Madness: The Secret Life and Shameful Death of the Classical Record Industry,” was released in Britain in July. Mr. Heymann sued the publisher, Penguin Books, in the High Court of Justice, saying the book wrongly accused him of “serious business malpractices” based on false statements. He cited at least 15 statements he called inaccurate.

In a settlement with Mr. Heymann, Penguin issued a statement in court saying it apologized for “the hurt and damage which he has suffered.” It agreed to pay an undisclosed sum for legal fees and to a charity. “Penguin Books has also undertaken not to repeat these allegations and to seek the return of all unsold copies of the book,” the statement said.

Who ever said there’s no justice in this world?

RTWT here.

It's A Whole New Publishing World Out There — Maybe, Pt. 2

In the initial installment of this saga (which can be read here), I related how I discovered the new publishing phenomenon of POD self-publishing when, by happy accident, I stumbled across the online POD self-publisher Lulu.com, and subsequently "published" a trade paperback of an old ms of mine. I was so impressed by the ease with which one could self-publish a book, and even more impressed by the physical product produced by that process, that I determined right then to investigate the matter more thoroughly to see whether an author — specifically an author of fiction — could overcome the strictly-for-losers stigma attached to self-publishing, and actually make real money by self-publishing his own work. Toward that end, I embarked on an informal research project to attempt to discover just what it is that's required to accomplish both.

The first thing I learned is that if one wants to see one's book for sale in markets other than Lulu's own Marketplace, one has to get one's physical book into the proper shape to meet industry standards, and then get that book entered into the book distribution system so that it's available for purchase by booksellers — both the online and brick & mortar sort — worldwide.

Turns out that latter, which sounds dauntingly formidable, is actually a piece of cake with Lulu. One simply buys one of the two distribution packages offered: Published By You (cost: $50), or Published By Lulu (cost: $100).

With the former, you are the publisher; with the latter, Lulu is the publisher. In both cases you as the author retain all rights to your work, and with each you make the same amount of money from sales of your book. The only significant difference between the two distribution packages is that with the former you must first register yourself as the publisher and apply for an ISBN (International Standard Book Number) for your book, an absolute necessity as nothing can be done with a book in the book marketplace absent its assignment of an ISBN.

Well, that's a royal pain in the ass, and a two- to three-week wait before the ISBN — which you will then own for that one book — is assigned. With the latter distribution package you don't have to do anything, and there's no wait involved. Lulu is the publisher, and the ISBN for your book is assigned instantly but is owned by Lulu as the publisher, not you, which is a mere technicality.

With both distribution packages, once the ISBN is assigned Lulu will then,

1: Place a scannable Bookland-EAN bar code on the back cover of the book.
2: Feed the bibliographic data on the book to the major international bibliographic databases so that the book will be findable by booksellers worldwide.
3: Convert your retail price (which you set yourself) into five currencies (US dollars, British pounds, Australian dollars, Euros, and Canadian dollars) to facilitate global availability and purchasing.
4: Ensure a listing of the book in the catalog of the major US wholesaler which gives access to the book for purchase by all US booksellers including Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Needless to say, I purchased the Published By Lulu distribution package.

So far, so great.

Now, about getting that book into physical shape to meet industry standards, there are two areas of concern: the book's cover (back, front, and spine), and the book's interior (the "inner matter"). In my case, the cover was a no-brainer as I simply used one of Lulu's standard templates which is guaranteed to meet industry standards (and not so incidentally, in terms of the physical materials used, exceeds them; the perfect-bound Lulu trade (6x9 format) paperback, both cover and interior, is simply gorgeous). I merely customized the cover with the background color (I use no images on my cover), text typefaces, font sizes and font colors of my choice (the text being my own, of course).

The inner matter required no work at all as my original formatting met industry standards. The only iffy part is that I created the required PDF file directly from Word by using Word's own PDF file generator which sounds like it might be something complicated but is another no-brainer as one simply clicks on SAVE AS PDF instead of the normal SAVE which latter saves the file as a regular Word document (. doc or .docx file). The iffy part is that while the resulting PDF file generated in that way is perfectly OK for printing a book for the Lulu Marketplace, Lulu tells us that to meet industry standards (i.e., to comply with the requirements of industry-standard print converters) the PDF file must be "distilled" using the Adobe Distiller which would mean purchasing from Adobe (the inventor of PDF) an almost $400 piece of software for which I've no other use, or uploading my .docx file to Lulu (instead of a PDF file) who will then do the PDF distilling for me.

I'm fairly certain, however, that I won't need that pricey piece of software or need Lulu to do the distilling as Word's PDF file generator generates a PDF file that's in compliance with a PDF standard called PDF/A which is a PDF standard set by the digital printing industry itself. I'll know within two weeks whether I'm right about that or not. (The printer for the book wholesaler — not the same printer Lulu uses for printing books for its own Marketplace which books, as I've already noted, exceed the physical standards of the books printed for the wholesaler — will examine the PDF file to make certain it's OK for their use, and if not report back what needs to be changed.)

Well, I just uploaded my final-proofed inner matter PDF file of that old ms to Lulu (the cover is generated by Lulu themselves), approved all the things that Lulu requires one to approve (a matter of a simple button click, actually), and within seconds got this eMail back from Lulu:

Thank you for approving "A Deed of Dreadful Note" [the book's title].

You have completed your portion of the Published By Lulu process.

Your book information will be sent to Bowker's Books In Print [the publishing industry's "bible" of bibliographic data] and once approved by Bowker, Lulu will upload your title to our distribution network. Should there be any problems with your title in Books In Print, we will contact you. This process is generally completed within 2-3 weeks. You can expect to see your book listed on Amazon and other online retailers within the next 6 to 8 weeks.

Regards,

Lulu Support

Assuming everything goes well with that, then the truly daunting, positively scary, but sine qua non business begins: the promotion of the book.

What's that I hear you saying? How am I going to go about doing that?

Not a clue — yet. Except to give you all a link to the web page I've set up for A Deed of Dreadful Note which provides a general description of the book, permits you to read Chapter 1 complete, and contains the link to A Deed of Dreadful Note's Lulu Marketplace page where you can purchase the trade paperback. A Deed of Dreadful Note's web page can be accessed here.

It's A Whole New Publishing World Out There — Maybe

[Note: This post has been updated (1) as of 7:33 AM Eastern on 12 Oct. See below.]

The thing began innocently enough. I'd just purchased a copy of Microsoft Office Home and Student 2007 ($125 from Amazon) mainly to get a copy of Word at the lowest possible price. I've been using Word as my word processor since it's inception and this 2007 incarnation is the first major redesign of the product in almost a decade, and all the changes looked just spectacular and the right way to go. Now all I needed was a project that would allow me to put it through all its paces, but had none in the works that would permit that.

Shortly thereafter, I was doing some small research on Berg's Lulu, and by mistake entered into Google the keywords, lulu opera book, instead of entering the correct keywords, lulu berg opera book. And the very first item on the list that came up was, Browse Books - Lulu.com. Aha! A site devoted exclusively to books on Lulu. Perfect! And so I clicked over.

Needless to say, Lulu.com is nothing of the sort, but is instead a Print On Demand (POD) publisher. I'd of course heard of POD publishing, but only in a very general way, and I didn't pay a lot of attention to it as it seemed to be something of interest mainly to book publishers and sellers for the most part. But Lulu is not set up for book publishers and sellers. Quite the contrary. It's set up for authors themselves as a way to self-publish, but not to be confused with that justly vilified self-publishing entity, the so-called vanity presses, most of which are largely scams, and hugely expensive ones at that.

Well, this seemed to offer a perfect way for me to wring out my new toy. I'd take an old ms typescript and massively reformat it as a POD paperback in my new Office Word 2007.

But on first investigation, Lulu simply looked far too good a deal, which of course made me instantly suspicious: No fees involved, up-front or otherwise, except as a small commission on your sales; the offering of valuable distribution and marketing packages the purchase of which are entirely voluntary and at prices that are almost too reasonable; and an online physical publishing process that's so fast and simple even a trained chimp could manage it (well, not quite, but you get my meaning, I'm sure).

After the matter of fees, the very next thing I thought suspect was the quality of the physical product that would be produced by this amazingly simple online publishing process. No way could this process produce a physical book that could pass as the same product from a major publishing house. I mean, c'mon!, give me a break.

And so I took that old ms, reformatted the typescript in my new toy, saved it as a PDF file (a technical requirement of this publishing process), and "published" it. It took me all of two hours to reformat the thing (Word performed like the champion application it's always been, only easier to navigate and operate than with former incarnations), and exactly nine minutes to "publish" it as a 6x9 trade paperback (for the cover art, I simply used a standard Lulu template as I have neither the software nor the expertise necessary to do my own cover art).

Oh yeah. This is going to work. When pigs fly, maybe.

I then ordered a copy of the 178pp book (cost: $8) to see what I and Lulu had wrought.

I received the book a week later (shipped UPS). When I opened the Amazon-style package, I simply couldn't believe what I was looking at. The physical book was absolutely, and in every way, indistinguishable from any trade paperback put out by any of the best major houses in the country.

Astonishing.

I'm now investigating more deeply this whole POD self-publishing phenomenon to see whether it can possibly overcome the justified stigma attached to vanity publishing (which POD self-publishing can be, but is not necessarily), and actually make real money for authors. If it can do both, it's a whole new publishing world out there, and one I want to be a part of.

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Update (7:33 AM Eastern on 12 Oct): Part 2 of this saga can be read here.

Unforgivable

[Note: This post has been updated (3) as of 5:47 AM Eastern on 21 Jul. See below.]

Michiko Kakutani, chief book reviewer for The New York Times, somehow got her hot little hands on a prerelease copy of Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows ("purchased at a New York City store yesterday," she informs us), the seventh and final installment of the Harry Potter series, and ... reviewed it in the pages of today's New York Times book section. She avoided including spoilers directly, but hinted at enough to spoil it nevertheless for Potter fans everywhere, not to mention blunt the magic (N.P.I.) of perhaps the most singular event in fiction publishing history: the simultaneous reading on 21 July (the book's release date) of this avidly- and long-awaited final installment and dénouement of this beloved series by millions upon millions of Potter fans worldwide.

A crass and callous, not to mention unforgivably thoughtless, act.

Ms. Kakutani has much to answer for as does The Times.

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Update (9:36 AM Eastern on 19 Jul): Lindesay Irvine of the Guardian Unlimited posts his thoughts on Ms. Kakutani's piece here.

Update 2 (12:12 PM Eastern on 19 Jul): Author J.K. Rowling comments on the publication of Ms. Kakutani's piece:

I am staggered that American newspapers have decided to publish purported spoilers in the form of reviews in complete disregard of the wishes of literally millions of readers, particularly children, who wanted to reach Harry’s final destination by themselves, in their own time. I am incredibly grateful to all those newspapers, booksellers and others who have chosen not to attempt to spoil Harry’s last adventure for fans.

Read more here.

Update 3 (5:47 AM Eastern on 21 Jul): Clark Hoyt, Public Editor (ombudsman) of The New York Times, responds to the furious storm of dismay and outrage consequent Ms. Kakutani's pre-release review, and a more choice bit of sophistry it would be difficult to find. Sample:

Rick Lyman, the books and theatre editor, said, "Our feeling is that once a book is offered up for sale at any public, retail outlet, and we purchase a copy legally and openly, we are free to review it."

[...]

I think it’s important to remember that there was never a contract or an agreement between The Times and Rowling or her publisher. The publisher set the release date unilaterally as part of the brilliant marketing campaign that has propelled the entire Harry Potter phenomenon. Neither The Times nor any other newspaper had an obligation to help enforce the release date.

If anything, Kakutani’s favorable review and the controversy around its timing has just created more buzz and anticipation – if more is possible – on the eve of the launch of what is sure to be this year’s best seller.

Gioia Tells It Straight And In Your Face

Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, Dana Gioia, may not be a celebrity or otherwise famous, nor any great shakes as a poet, but as a university commencement speaker and pitchman for high culture and the arts he rocks.

[Today,] almost everything in our national culture, even the news, has been reduced to entertainment or altogether eliminated. The loss of recognition for artists, thinkers, and scientists has impoverished our culture in innumerable ways, but let me mention one. When virtually all of a culture's celebrated figures are in sports or entertainment, how few possible role models we offer the young. There are so many other ways to lead a successful and meaningful life that are not denominated by money or fame. Adult life begins in a child's imagination, and we've relinquished that imagination to the marketplace.

[...]

Everything now is entertainment. And the purpose of this omnipresent commercial entertainment is to sell us something. American culture has mostly become one vast infomercial.

I have a recurring nightmare. I am in Rome visiting the Sistine Chapel. I look up at Michelangelo's incomparable fresco of the "Creation of Man." I see God stretching out his arm to touch the reclining Adam's finger. And then I notice in the other hand Adam is holding a Diet Pepsi.

[...]

Don't get me wrong. I love entertainment, and I love the free market. I have a Stanford MBA and spent fifteen years in the food industry. I adore my big-screen TV. The productivity and efficiency of the free market is beyond dispute. It has created a society of unprecedented prosperity.

But we must remember that the marketplace does only one thing — it puts a price on everything.

RTWT here.

(Our thanks to ArtsJournal for the link.)

16 June 1904

 

Mazel Tov!

Alex Ross has finally sent off the finished manuscript of The Rest Is Noise to his publisher today. About bloody time, too. Now I have to start husbanding my always-in-too-short-supply discretionary funds 'cause when it comes out, it'll be the first hardcover I've bought in the last 15 years or so, and at 214,000 words it's going to be one hefty and tres high-priced volume.

Mazel tov! to Alex.

Good News

A reader of our previous post concerning the CD review policy prevailing at Fanfare magazine was moved to inquire of BBC Music Magazine their CD review policy. Following, their reply:

Dear _____,

Many thanks for your e-mail.

I can categorically state that there is no link whatsoever between advertising and reviews treatment in BBC Music Magazine.

Our reviews editor, Daniel Jaffé, chooses discs for review purely on merit of the CDs themselves (largely repertoire, performance, sound, impact etc.). When they are reviewed, the verdict of the reviewer is never altered – whether or not an advert is being placed is immaterial. The reviewers are not informed about which adverts are being placed, nor would we dare to try and influence a reviewer’s opinion ourselves. They are all completely independent.

If anything, the review/advert relationship can work the other way round. That is, a record label may be willing to advertise in the magazine but are then informed that the disc has got a poor review. At this point, for fear of looking silly, they may choose to pull the advertisement – which is fair enough. We, though, would never change the review to accommodate an advert, even though we stand to lose out by this.

I can’t speak for other magazines (I genuinely don’t know their policy) but the above is the case with BBC Music.

Please do pass my comments on to whatever forums, blogs etc you can, as this is obviously a very important matter for us.

All best,

Jeremy Pound
Deputy Editor
BBC Music Magazine

Excuse Me?

[Note: This post has been updated (3) as of 11:26 AM Eastern on 21 Jul. See below.]

Read this.

I've no further comment to make beyond what I wrote in the comments section.

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Update (12:49 PM Eastern on 20 Jul): The writer of the "scandalous letter" (Joel Flegler, editor of Fanfare magazine) the authenticity of which I questioned in my comment in the comments section of the above linked post has admitted his authorship of the letter in question in a comment in that same comments section. His defense (or, rather, rationalization) of its contents makes for, um, interesting reading, to which defense I've responded in a subsequent comment in that comments section which reads:

That's an, um, interesting defense (or, rather, rationalization) of your magazine's CD review policy, Mr. Flegler. What undercuts that defense, however, is that nowhere in your magazine is that CD review policy made public. Would that you were as honest and straightforward with your magazine's subscribers as you apparently are with those seeking reviews of their CDs.

Update 2 (5:28 PM Eastern on 20 Jul): Patrick J. Smith of The Penitent Wagnerite adds his thoughts.

Update 3 (11:26 AM Eastern on 21 Jul): For the CD review policy of another prominent music magazine, see here.

The Future Becomes Present

[Note: This post has been updated (1) as of 1:26 AM Eastern on 25 Jan. See below.]

Culture journalist and blogger Terry Teachout of About Last Night writes in his latest Wall Street Journal "Sightings" column:

The e-book is back. So are the technophobes who swear it'll never catch on. They were right last time, and they might be right this time, too. Sooner or later, though, they'll be wrong -- and when they are, your life will change.

Yes indeed. I couldn't agree more. The eBook is the book of the future. The near future. No, make that, the very near future. As I wrote in a blog post on 8 December 2003 (on a now deceased prior incarnation of this blog):

Today's conventional wisdom is that while the eBook (especially the fiction eBook) is essentially a dead-in-the-water concept at present, it will not always be so, but even when that future time arrives, the ink-on-paper volume will still reign supreme because one will never be able to snuggle up with cold, phosphor type on a glass or plastic screen in a hard plastic or metal portable case, like one can with a bound, ink-on-paper volume.

Well, I'm here to tell y'all that's a crock; one perpetrated by whomever to make all you ink-on-paper-book-loving Luddites and semi-Luddites feel more comfortable about the future of your beloved ink-on-paper volumes. Just one development is necessary for the eBook to replace almost totally the bound, ink-on-paper volume forever: a proper display screen; a screen where type and images will display in a way indistinguishable, except by physical touch, from ink-on-paper. Or display in a way perhaps even more vivid and warmly intimate.

You perhaps doubt my word on this. If so, do this little thought experiment.

Think of a paper-thin sheet of plastic on which appears a page of text (or text and images), the plastic sheet of the same size as a typical size ink-on-paper trade hardcover volume, and the page of text displayed indistinguishable in appearance from the ink-on-paper book page. Now affix that sheet of plastic to any substrate of your imagining; say, something an inch-thick, and about the same shape and weight as a standard size trade hardcover paper volume of the same thickness, and made of just about any material you like. Now place a rigid, thin, side-hinged cover on top of the whole thing.

There you have your eBook of the future. As cozy and cuddly a thing to snuggle up with as any ink-on-paper book you ever owned. Except it's not a book. It's a dozen (two dozen; ten dozen; whatever) books. And not just a certain, unchanging dozen, but a dozen that can be exchanged with any other dozen at your pleasure, one by one, by the simple expedient of plugging in the appropriate credit-card size memory module, and in a flash (PI) copying its contents into your eBook. Or be exchanged by connecting your eBook to your computer wherein is stored your complete library of hundreds or thousands of e-volumes, all of which were previously downloaded from the Web. Or be exchanged by logging onto the Web directly with your eBook, and downloading whichever volumes you desire.

And you can do this 24/7 without leaving your home, and have the volumes in your eBook in a matter of minutes. And I here make no mention at all of the other benefits of digital text such as the invaluable search function, integrated dictionary, note taker, highlighting and annotating functions, etc., etc. Nor do I make any mention of the production advantages over ink-on-paper for publishers, the inventory advantages for booksellers, online or off. And I haven't even touched on the myriad advantage for authors, and the rewards of self-publishing which with this technology will be a virtual snap.

How far off in the future is that sine qua non display technology that will replace almost totally the ink-on-paper volume forever? I of course don't really know, but I'd be willing to bet, giving odds, that less than five years out is not over-optimistic. I mean, we're talking here about a multi-billion-dollar consumer market for eBooks (machine and texts), and when a market of that dollar size is at stake amazing things can and do happen. All that's required is a recognition by the industry that such a market is for real, and here right now, not a blue-sky, if-come affair.

Well, even though those who make up that vast consumer market (that's to say, you) may not know it, that market is very much for real here and now, and waiting. Waiting for the proper display technology to make its appearance. As I said, you may not know you're waiting for it -- until you actually see it, that is -- but the industry does know, and so it won't be long now in coming.

Trust me.

From Mr. Teachout's article, and from my prior reading in other sources, that "proper display screen; a screen where type and images will display in a way indistinguishable, except by physical touch, from ink-on-paper" has apparently arrived, courtesy of a new display technology called E Ink; a display technology utilized by Sony Corporation in their soon-to-be released new eBook reader, the Sony Reader.

As much as Mr. Teachout and I agree in this matter, however, I see an immediate problem of which Mr. Teachout has taken no notice.

If you read Mr. Teachout's above linked piece, you'll see that the Sony Reader pictured there — the magic device that Sony is betting will jump-start the mass migration to the eBook — has a cardinal design error: it's not configured to present a simulacrum of an ink-on-paper book.

Why is that a cardinal design error? Well, ultimately it's probably not. But for the immediate present — the "transitional present," so to call it — a mass-market-successful eBook reader will need that familiar ink-on-paper book look and feel so that the initial transition for present book lovers will be as painless and as natural as possible.

A small detail, no doubt. But as we're all aware by now, it's in the details that God and the Devil reside.

If the E Ink display technology is everything it's cracked up to be, and Sony makes that single design change to the Sony Reader, then the eBook future will, in very short order, become the eBook present.

Once again, Trust me.

---

Update (1:26 AM Eastern on 25 Jan): Now, this soon-to-be-released E Ink-equipped eBook reader looks more like (but still not quite) what a properly configured eBook reader should look like.

This Is Just Too Delicious

Recently, The (London) Sunday Times indulged in a savage little exercise. To 20 literary agents and publishers in the U.K. they submitted in typescript form, and with pseudonymous titles and pseudonymous unknown author names, the opening chapters of two novels by two Booker Prize-winning authors: V S Naipaul, and Stanley Middleton. The bogus submissions were sent to agents rather than only to publishers because, as I've elsewhere on this blog made note, publishers today, and for some time now, won't so much as glance at a fiction manuscript by an unknown author unless that manuscript is submitted to them by a legitimate literary agent. Agents today (and also for some time now) do duty as initial manuscript screeners and new-talent winnowers for publishing houses, a function that used to be the province of a publishing house's in-house editorial staff. But today (and, yet once again, also for some time now), their ranks have been so thinned that such a practice is practically and economically out of the question.

And the result of that savage little exercise?

None [of the agents or publishers] appears to have recognised [the bogus typescripts] as [the opening chapters of] Booker prizewinners from the 1970s that were lauded as British novel writing at its best. Of the 21 replies, all but one were rejections [apparently, most of the publishers didn't even respond].

Gee. What a surprise.

RTWT here.

A Proper Resolution: An Update

Our brief comment on the dispute between author Deirdre Bair (be certain to read Ms. Bair's response posted as an update to that comment) and German publisher Knaus Verlag (owned by publishing giant, Random House) with its implications for the publishing industry worldwide concerning the German-language edition of Ms. Bair's new biography of Carl Gustav Jung has finally been resolved in Ms. Bair's favor, as it should have been.

Our congratulations to Ms. Bair on her important victory.

An Outrageous Act Of Cowardice, A Dangerous Precedent, And How It All Could Have Been Stopped Stone-cold Dead, But Wasn't

(Note: This post has been updated (3) as of 3:14 PM Eastern on 24 Oct. See below.)

First, read this. Next, read this typical commentary on the matter.

Outrageous cowardice on the part of German publisher Knaus Verlag, was it not, and the setting of an intolerable and dangerous publishing precedent into the bargain.

But who's the entity who alone could have stopped the outrage stone-cold dead in its tracks, but didn't; the sole entity with the power to do so? Why, the author, Deirdre Bair, of course, who could simply have refused Knaus Verlag publication rights to her book after the publisher, fearful of lawsuits and perhaps government prosecution, caved to the outrageous demands of C. G. Jung's heirs. Instead, she permitted the book's publication to go forward, but with her above linked whining protest and demur to be incorporated into the edition.

Ms. Bair has much to answer for for abrogating her responsibilities to herself as conscientious biographer, her book, and to conscientious biographers everywhere.

---

Update (11:42 AM Eastern on 30 Jun): Playwright and blogger George Hunka of Superfluities responds in an update to his post (the second linked above) by characterizing my comments as an "odd argument." What's odd is that Mr. Hunka imagines that if German publisher Knaus Verlag were denied publication rights by Ms. Bair, no other German publisher would then consider publishing her book, thereby giving C. G. Jung's heirs the very victory they sought. The idea is, of course, quite wrongheaded. With but a minimal effort on Ms. Bair's part to publish, or cause to be published, periodical and / or newspaper articles by herself or others on the business, she would instantly make the issue an international publishing cause célèbre, which would, in turn, bring instantly to her doorstep an avalanche of German-language publishers, within or outside Germany, clamoring to be permitted to publish the book in German using her original, unadulterated text — not necessarily because they're more courageous than Knaus Verlag, but because, like all publishers, they're just as greedy where it concerns their bottom line — thereby not only denying the Jung heirs a victory, but, by virtue of the articles, casting them publicly and prominently into view as the dishonest crew they most assuredly are.

Update (6:20 PM Eastern on 5 Aug): We received by eMail today from Deirdre Bair a response to the above post which, by her permission, we are pleased to post, verbatim, below. We are especially pleased to learn from that response — contrary to the distinct impression given by Terry Teachout in his above linked post to which our above post was a response — that, as of this date, the German publication of this book has not gone forward, and will not without the express permission of both Ms. Bair and her primary publisher, Little, Brown. We extend to Ms. Bair and Little, Brown our best wishes for a successful outcome in ongoing negotiations concerning this most important matter. Without further comment from us, Ms. Bair's verbatim response to our above post follows.

Little, Brown & Co. owns the foreign rights to the biography of Jung and they sold the rights to Knaus Verlag. Claudia Vidoni, the publisher at Knaus Verlag, arrived at the decision to include the Jung heirs' comments in my book without ever having consulted me. I knew nothing of this decision until she announced it. I have not given permission for Knaus Verlag to publish this book with the Jung heirs' text inside it. Knaus Verlag cannot publish without the written permission of both Little, Brown and me. The matter is under advisement at the present time. I ask you to please note the following:

1. I do not own the rights to foreign publications, therefore I cannot withdraw permission from any of them for this book. Only Little, Brown can do that.

2. The book is not yet published.

3. I have not given permission for this book to be published with the insertion of the Jung heirs' comments.

4. The matter is currently under advisement.

5. A final outcome has not yet been reached.

D[eirdre] B[air]

Update (3:14 PM Eastern on 24 Oct): For the final resolution of this business see this post.

Brave New World

Richard Curtis, a forty-year veteran of the book publishing biz, and one of its most savvy and successful literary agents, has, on commission from Backspace, perhaps the Web's most valuable writer's resource site, written a three-part series of articles on the state of the biz (here, here, and here), and for wannabe authors of fiction at least, it at present appears bleak.

How bleak?

This bleak:

We regret [says Mr. Curtis in the submission guidelines posted on Richard Curtis Associates, his agency's website] that at this time we are only considering non-fiction submissions from new authors. Due to unfavorable market conditions, the agency no longer reads fiction submissions by authors who have not been previously published by a bona fide publisher.

Considering that, today, almost no bona fide publisher of substance will even look at a fiction ms by a new, unknown-to-them author except when submitted by a bona fide literary agent, that's about as bleak as things can be. And I'd bet (although I don't really know) Mr. Curtis's firm is not alone in such restriction among major literary agencies.

And what are those "unfavorable market conditions" above referred to?

Says Mr. Curtis in Part II of the above referenced commissioned series:

As the publishing industry entered the twenty-first century, book industry executives began requiring editors to produce elaborate profit and loss projections and other corporate-style analyses of the potential viability of books and authors. What was the sales performance of previous books? Did they “sell through” satisfactorily or did returns cross the threshold of unprofitability according to the latest formulas devised by bookstore chain number-crunchers? The mantra of “The Bottom Line” was invoked ad nauseam at every editorial committee, and editors were constantly reminded, “We can only afford to publish hits. If you can’t project a big profit on a book, turn it down.”

[...]

And what about the author? Was he or she attractive and mediagenic? Did he or she have a “platform” – an organizational base such as a hit television series or chain of fitness centers capable of promoting the sale of books? Was the author willing to buy large quantities of books for giveaway or resale by his or her franchise?

More and more, the importance of traditional literary criteria took a back seat to “The Numbers” and “The Platform.” Promising but modestly successful novelists discovered they could not get their second or third books published, and aspiring newcomers could not sell their books at all. As for nonfiction, no matter how compelling the memoir or business guide or social commentary might be, publishers were disposed to reject it because the author was not “branded.”

Pretty depressing stuff, for authors and readers alike.

Or is it?

For now ... printed books are still the reading devices of choice [says Mr. Curtis in Part III of the series]. But for each generation that succeeds ours, the definition will continue to shift to the virtual spectrum.

This is not some futuristic reverie. The medium exists now. It’s called blogging,

Say what? Blogging? Has this man suffered a premature Senior Moment?

Unlike conventional diaries, blogs are dynamic, multimedia, and public. Indeed, it is their public aspect that provokes fascinating speculation about their potential to become the 21st century’s answer to the book. They satisfy the classic criteria for books: they are printed, distributed, and publicized. But they are not printed on paper, they are not distributed in stores, and they are not publicized in traditional ways.

[...]

Best of all ... bloggers come with two guarantees that publishers crave: built-in sales numbers and built-in platforms. Their popularity is not a matter of speculation. It is a function of virally infectious appreciation, an audience voting with clicks of its mouse. It can be measured precisely and analyzed by the number, concentration, and demographics of “hits” on their sites.

Even with advances in market analysis such as BookScan, traditional book publishing is at best a speculative venture. Publishers can compile information about readers ‘til the cows come home, but when the time comes to decide how many copies of a book to print, the best they can do is an educated guess. By the very nature of blogs, however, precise and real-time market research is embedded in the medium, research that can be used to create pinpoint-targeted advertising campaigns.

Beyond my thinking Mr. Curtis dead wrong in his understanding of the nature of blogs and blogging's future, What's wrong with this picture?

This, that's what, as is Mr. Curtis's summing up of the just-around-the-corner Brave New World of virtual books; not the much-in-the-past-touted eBook (in which I think the future of the book does lie), but ... but ... the blog!

As authors assume the roles traditionally performed by publishers such as distribution and publicity, the laws of disintermediation - the elimination of middlemen or agencies of any kind - render publishers less and less relevant. And that goes for editors, reviewers, critics, bookstores and libraries. “Gatekeepers” - the priestly class that tends the holy flame of literary taste and tells us what is gold and what is dross - may have little place in a world where the best judges of taste are readers themselves.

[...]

As Big Publishing becomes more and more dysfunctional and authors grasp the capabilities of the new paradigm [i.e., the blog], the transformation of the book from a three-dimensional object to a dematerialized but richly sensory experience will accelerate. And so will the redefinition, the reinvention, the repurposing of the author, as we progress - reluctantly but inexorably - on the road to virtual.

O tempora! O mores!

Why (Philip) Roth Didn't Make The Cut

Not being into (because not giving a rat's ass about) the antics of the upper echelon book literati, I only partially understood this, but from what I understood it's spot-on, and drop-dead hilarious into the bargain.

(Thanks to About Last Night for the link.)