Parodies v. truths…
I had just finished Scott Dyson’s short story collection Dark Windows on Monday night a week ago, so I decided to cruise a bit through the 999 Comcast channels we pay so much for and so seldom use (anyone believe that the planned merger with TWC will make that any better?). I came across Mike and Molly, a sitcom, on one of the traditional network TV channels. I remembered an episode from a few weeks ago I watched under similar circumstances (rather than launch into a new book and stay up late, I often watch TV to make me drowsy—that and a finger of Jameson whiskey often works to cure insomnia). In that episode, Molly, the ex-teacher, was finishing an erotic romance—it sounded better than Fifty Shades, though (that was parody #1).
In the new episode, Molly’s picked up by a big-time editor (publishing company not named, but the fancy, uncluttered desk implies he has plenty of minions to work through his slush pile). He’s suave, sophisticated, and sociopathic (like that alliteration?), i.e. a snooty know-it-all. He tries to convince Molly to rewrite the book. She rebels, but he says he owns her (she signed a standard author’s contract, you see, complete with advance). We now have parody #2 that offers a humorous critique of the traditional publishing paradigm—and maybe a painful reminder to midlist authors?
Note that I said parody. Moreover, it can’t be said that Molly’s in the camp of indie publishing and indie writers. She wins in the end and her original MS is accepted. The remaining fate of her masterpiece is yet to be determined (future episodes?). But I thought it amusing and telling—and sad for Molly that she’s still owned by her publisher. I consider this parody something new. Harper Lee’s comment about not releasing her “new book” years ago, “I was a first-time writer, so I did what I was told,” is also amusing, telling, and sad. Traditional publishing is obviously in trouble when the questioning of that old paradigm becomes so public.
Another public tiff occurred last year: Many writers who have won big in the hallowed halls of the Big Five didn’t help traditional publishing’s cause when they banded together against other authors, both midlist and indies. Moreover, this kind of division between the old horses in the stable and those of us who are forging ahead on our own is precisely what traditional publishing wants. Divide and conquer is a well-known technique on the battlefield; it’s also being employed in the publishing wars. Instead of adapting, traditional publishing is on the defense, walling itself into its ivory castles and preparing for the siege. The art of diplomacy has disappeared; bloody war is now the order of the day…figuratively speaking, of course.
Readers are the big winners in these battles; writers, indie, midlist, or otherwise, not so much. Those juicy advances and exclusive contracts that are so ubiquitous in traditional publishing have more negatives than positives, even for the old horses in the stable, but especially for midlist authors. With traditional publishing’s current business model, the publishers indeed own midlist authors. A midlist author has a short window of time for recovering his or her advance, and, if their book isn’t successful during that short period, their future is dark. At that point, they might be tempted to become indie, but they’ll waste a lot of time and energy and need a lot of luck to recover rights to that book. And, depending on the contract, any new books they write might still be owned by the publisher. Molly’s story might be a parody, but the circumstances aren’t so far-fetched.
Most agents don’t help the situation. They’re in cahoots with the traditional publishers, their job becoming more restricted with time to the gatekeeping role imposed by traditional publishing in a business model that bets on the old horse in the stable over any newbie trying to find a publishing home in any stable. When the new author receives a rejection email (the replacement nowadays for that old rejection letter) that says, “Sorry, not for me,” or its equivalent, what the agent really means is “I’m paid to screen out any new voices like yours because the publishers I serve rarely gamble on them anymore” (I know—I had over a thousand such rejection letters and emails when I first became serious about “putting my writing out there”). People like Patterson, Preston, and other old stable nags keep churning out the formulaic stuff, and non-discriminating readers don’t know they’re being duped.
How can I say that readers are the big winners then? It’s simple: because of the intransigence of the traditional publishing behemoth, readers do have access to new voices, and at reasonable prices through indie publishing. I recently reviewed Harlan Coben’s The Stranger for Bookpleasures. Great book, and I said so; but, at $11.99 on Amazon (probably discounted, by the way), I wondered in the last paragraph of the review whether that wasn’t a bit steep, mentally wondering why I, as a casual reader, would pay that price when I could have three indie books that are as good or better to read (I know, because I review many more of those). I was nice, though, and only mentioned that the price was steep considering editing, the poor ebook formatting, and the lousy cover. Because of that one paragraph, that book still doesn’t have a review on Amazon as of Tuesday, February 10—the PR person declined to repost there rather than have an otherwise good review for Harlan’s book. In other words, the publisher did my old buddy Harlan no favors, probably unbeknownst to him, of course.
Traditional publishing has yet to learn that readers rule. Readers like to discover new voices; they like authors that go beyond the formulaic successes of the past, seen in books coming out of the book mill factories run by authors like Patterson, Preston, and others; and they like quality writing at a reasonable price. For the latter, I know why traditional publishers set their ebook prices so high. Readers shouldn’t think that traditional authors get rich off royalties on a book-by-book basis. The old nags in the stable are like big supermarkets, living off slim margins and counting on volume sales. Most of that exorbitant price goes to feeding a bloated bureaucracy, a bloat that readers shouldn’t want to support.
Indie writers, and midlist authors even, when they have control, know that the sweet spot for ebook prices is between $2.99 and $4.99. Picking the middle, at $3.99 I can have three books and hours-worth of entertaining reading instead of Mr. Coben’s one book, which is entertaining but over-priced. 3 for 1—this is ideal for discovering new voices. It’s also ideal for pursuing seasoned authors. Many indie authors share my fate—they have as many or more quality books as Mr. Coben and other old horses in the traditional publishing stables, but they still haven’t been “discovered.”
I commented on the poor formatting and cover of Harlan Coben’s book precisely because traditional publishing perpetuates the myth that indie books aren’t professionally done. Yes, as a reviewer, I’ve run across bad editing, formatting, and covers among indie books; I’ve also encountered them in traditionally published books. I strive to put out a quality product, contracting for the professional help I need to ensure that. As a result, I needed to mention the lapses Mr. Coben’s publisher perpetrated. They’re so easy to fix in traditional publishing, but clearly that bloated bureaucracy skips a few steps, more than I do in my DIY efforts (if I skip anything, it’s paying for PR and marketing—I can’t afford video trailers and full-page ads like James Patterson’s publisher). An author like Coben can’t even take pride in his own product because he doesn’t have (or want?) control—he leaves himself at the whims of his publisher’s bureaucracy. Indie authors, on the other hand, can have as much control as they want.
That publisher’s PR rep submitted a defense, stating that the ebook I reviewed was a preliminary edition they had put up on Net Galley (many traditional publishers use Net Galley–to put distance between them and reviewers, I suppose?). I found no markings on that ebook that said it was preliminary. I often review ARCs, for example, but it’s being disrespectful to the reviewer not to inform that he or she is reviewing a preliminary edition. That doesn’t change my overall positive review of Harlan Coben’s book either. Buy it and read it if you want to fork over that kind of money. It’s a fun read.
I don’t know how Molly’s adventure with traditional publishing will pan out. I’m sure it will be funny—I’m rooting for her. And I’m hoping that traditional publishers start focusing on the readers and new authors instead of betting on the sure horses in their stables. Without new authors, their old nags like Patterson, Preston, and their ilk will wind up in the glue factory, and there will be no one to replace them. That would be sad. What will we do when there’s nothing good to read? TV is no substitute for a good book—sorry, Mike and Molly.
In elibris libertas….
