Category Archives: Notes on Publishing

Round-up, 25 October 2012: Murderous Self-Publishers, DRM, Supply and Demand, Handwriting, Serials

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A lot of noise this week (quite rightly in my view) on how Amazon controls your Kindle content, and can shut it down at its own whim, it seems. More on this another time, perhaps, but here is the original blog that kicked up the fuss, and some other links with perhaps some of the most useful commentary:

Outlawed By Amazon (original blog)

Amazon Inspires Wave of Anti-DRM Sentiment Following Customer Kindle Shutdown (links from Booktrade.info)

I increasingly favour the DRM-free approach to publishing, at least for many aspects of content. What you give away comes back to you some way or other, I feel (but then I am a generous kinda guy, I hope). Here is an article from Publishing Perspectives describing a succesful DRM-free venture: Top SF Authors Raise $1m With Pick-Your-Price, DRM-Free E-Titles. May their success ever increase (and I love how its the genre writers who’re pioneering this).

From IndieReader, some provocative views on whether self-publishing is killing the publishing industry (basically, self-publishers need to get a bit more professional):

If indie authors are going to make their mark, they’ll need to band together, put out reputable works, and stop looking for get-sales-quick gimmicks.

And from the Globe and Mail, a pertinent discussion on the creative writing industry and whether we’re creating more writers than can or will be read, with Canadian examples: Writers: graduating by the bushel, but can they find readers? Given the laws of supply and demand, I’m inclined to think that Mexican critic Gabriel Zaid is right when he (only half?) jokes that perhaps writers need to slip a five-dollar bill into their books in order to pay their readers …

And from earlier in the week a lovely blog on the lost art of letter-writing in the Guardian. Do follow some of the links therein, and also back to the extract from Philip Hensher’s book on handwriting: Why Handwriting Matters.

And finally: I am a big fan of the idea of serial fiction, and I am enjoying the reports on Naomi Alderman and Margaret Atwood’s serialised novel The Happy Zombie Sunrise Home. I can see (see above too) I am going to have to look into Wattpad some more.

 

Frankfurt Book Fair

by Andrew | 1 Comment

‘When one is tired of Frankfurt, one must be tired of publishing’ – or so we are told!

I was lucky to attend the Frankfurt Book Fair several times when I was working in-house. I loved it: the bustle, the meeting and greeting of the like-minded, the catching up. I particularly enjoyed being in such an international context: all those Nordic types wearing interesting eyewear, glamorous women whose dress sense suggested they could only be French or Italian (that splash of green silk! those baubles! those heels!), all those lovely Americans. I remember a Dutch publisher whose stand had little bowls of salty liquorice for visitors to chew on (better than the Twiglets I remember from our stand – or do I have false memory syndrome?!). As a public arena within the industry, Frankfurt somehow felt (sorry) less stuffy and class-bound (and dowdy) than British publishing.

Editors are less likely to attend nowadays. So much business is done by email or over the phone, and so many foreign editors and rights people attend the London Book Fair, so people keep in touch in other ways or places.

But Frankfurt remains important for rights sales, and rights directors from publishers are there in abundance. A lot of agents still go as well. What they are doing there reminds me of the importance of foreign rights sales, particularly as royalty advances dwindle in the English-speaking world, and while certain markets continue to open, e.g., in Eastern Europe and Asia. And then too digital publishing continues to spread. Offers for Polish or Korean translation rights, or for German digital rights might seem modest, but they can soon add up, and trickle in long after a book has first been published in its original language. Given that such deals are often unexpected, the revenue can be a real bonus.

Commerce between UK and US publishers remains important, as does business with Australian and Canadian publishers, which operate autonomously more and more. An author who is published properly in a foreign territory is probably going to be better served than one whose books are distributed there by their domestic publisher, not just financially, but in terms of establishing the author’s name with an international readership.

And there might be room for self-publishers to shift some rights too. I believe there are some small outfits helping writers in this task, but by its nature it’s going to be a lot of piecemeal work for no certain return, so I imagine this sort of thing might take a while to establish itself.

Practices in other territories can vary, e.g., in much of Europe deals are made for a licence period of, e.g., ten years, rather than the full term of copyright (usually 50 or 70 years after the author’s death), which strikes me as much more sensibly flexible for authors in a changing economy. And of course, anyone who sells rights, whether it’s an agent, subagent, or publisher, will take a percentage cut (an eventuality that should be clarified in your contract – this can be about 20% for a subagent, and as much as 50% when the publisher sells).

And let’s not forget other forms of subsidiary rights beyond translation and foreign territories. Serial and book club rights are not what they used to be, but audio, TV, radio, film, and performance rights can still be important, and of course today digital rights are extremely significant. And I wonder what the ‘future technologies’ specified in some contracts might shape up to be? A couple of decades ago, we were rather excited by CD-ROMs as the future of the book … I guess that ‘future technologies’  is one of those safeguarding terms that catch all future eventualities regardless. Hmmm – resist signing away what does not exist yet, I say. I imagine good agents would hold on to such rights on behalf of their clients.

As writers think about publishing in general, they should be aware of what rights can mean for them. You might be able to attend some of the public events at events such as the London Book Fair or BookExpo America; I assure you that this is not the time to try to sell your own manuscript, as agents and editors in attendance will have their schedules booked up months in advance. But you can often attend seminars, and it can be instructive simply to wander the aisles to soak up the ways in which publishers present themselves within the trade. Meanwhile, a few useful articles with different perspectives are posted below, and in the future I might add posts that explain further aspects in more detail.

Mostly though: I remember Frankfurt as a lot of fun!

Rights And Copyright – explained by Science Fiction And Fantasy Writers Of America, including an important clarification about the difference between rights and copyright

Foreign Rights: How Authors Tap A Rich Vein Of Royalties – from Daily Finance

Publishing Basics, Part 4: Translation Rights – a useful personal explanation from the blog of author Mark Terry

Ten Things You Need To Know About Selling Rights – from Publishing Perspectives (advice for rights professionals)

 

Round-up, 28 September 2012: Rejected Manuscripts, Ghosts, Britishisation, J.K. Rowling, and Indexers

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Apparently Penguin is asking some writers to return advances for manuscripts that were never delivered. Too right! (More for those who can deliver.) Some of the Guardian commentariat reveals a certain ignorance of what an advance really is. The posts by cstross usefully clarify things such as contracts and advances usually being broken down into payments on signature of contract, delivery of manuscript, hardback publication, and paperback publication. One agent quoted in the article refers to books rejected for editorial reasons, though the works referred to here seem to be books that were simply not delivered (which suggests the agent seems to be stirring things, as one comment suggests).

But it makes me think of the time when Joan Collins was taken to court for delivering an ‘unreadable’ manuscript. I remember seeing a super documentary on the trial, where ghostwriter Lucianne Goldberg, called as expert witness, wrily dismissed the manuscript’s inconsistencies as things that are fixed as a matter of course during the editorial process. (‘It’s a miracle’ was one explanation for, I think, someone returning from the dead – I thought the judge was going to say she was in contempt of court … but this was fiction, your honour.) If anyone knows where to find that documentary, let me know! But meanwhile enjoy Lucianne Goldberg discussing the trial and celebrity publishing with Judith Regan (e.g., note some fascinating arguments about fiction vs nonfiction writers using/needing ghost writers). I guess one major issue was that the perceived value of a Joan Collins novel, even if expertly rewritten/doctored, was diminished in the eyes of the publisher between the time the book was signed up and the time it was delivered. Writers: take note …

A good interview with Jeffrey Eugenides appeared in Salon this week. I enjoyed the discussion of his first sentences. It occurs to me they work as wonderful little elevator pitches.

Neologism alert! The BBC reports on the Britishisation of American English (and with an -ise ending at that).

A brief feature in Forbes on a boutique publisher using a subscription model, a form of underwriting production that’s also used successfully (to some degree or other) by, e.g., the wonderful Peirene Press and And Other Stories.

Apparently, there were some problems with the formatting of the ebook of J.K. Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy. Ow!

Following my own post earlier this week, more on the value of book bloggers in the Guardian. (You know, the more I think about it, I’m more likely to read – and trust – a books blog than a conventional book review.)

Also from the Guardian: John Sutherland on one of the great unsung heroes of publishing: the indexer. (Or should I say unsung heroines, as so often they are women. I never know whether women prefer to be heroes or heroines, actors or actresses, and whether it’s right/wrong to use either.)

And yay, the Kerouac Scroll is coming to the British Library! Next week, at that.

Final comment, amid all the coverage this week of The Casual Vacancy (which I’ve yet to read): aren’t we glad that J.K. Rowling 1. took pen to paper, and has 2. such a public profile, and 3. a voice that she uses to good purpose? I gather from those in the know that 4. she is a truly lovely person, too. Which just goes to show. (Haters: remember what Zadie said – we have to write from Love, not Envy.)

Are bloggers killing literary criticism? (And: should critics watch films?!)

by Andrew | 1 Comment

Peter Stothard, editor of the TLS and chair of the Man Booker judges this year, talks about ‘bloggers killing literary criticism’ in the Indy.

Now, I think we can cut Peter some slack because the Man Booker judges have selected an interesting shortlist this year. But I wish this article had a bit more substance (we have observed of late that the Indy is getting a bit more like the Daily Mail in its ratio of opinion to fact).

It does make some interesting points, e.g., that criticism is about more than simply sharing one’s taste. And even if blogging is wonderfully democratic, its access for all comers can at times beg the question of how the blogger has earned the right to be heard, and who is even listening; there are a lot of trolls and blowhards in the blogosphere, and I imagine many of their opinings are mostly unread. (Thus he opineth … In creating my own blog, I’ve hoped to avoid too much of that, and my future book reviews shall mostly be a means of making specific recommendations of resources for writers – more of those to come later.)

But the lack in this article of specific examples of both critics and blogs makes me question the basis of his observations. Surely there are many blogs that have been engaged in serious criticism, and in the promotion and discussion of quality writing, e.g., off the top of my head Beatrice, Bookslut, Complete Review, Silliman’s Blog. And what about the blogging that forms an extension of established publications, e.g., the New Yorker‘s Page-Turner, the many contributors to the Guardian‘s Books blog? Okay, there are lots of blowhards in the Guardian comments … but there are great riches there too.

And a lot of books pages and sections (when they have survived) seem just as guilty of the same sorts of gushy, cliquey, and predictable conversations about books that you find in the gushiest, cliquiest, and most predictable blogs. Plus the sort of writing used by publishers to describe themselves and their wares can be worst of all; I’m thinking of the meaningless hyperbole that could be used interchangeably for whichever recent acquisition or staff appointment they are bigging up in The Bookseller this week (‘I started reading this [insert superlative] manuscript on the train home, and was so entranced/mesmerised/captivated that I only finally looked up from it at 2 a.m. to discover I was sitting in an unlit carriage in a siding in Basingstoke’).

So the professionals can’t always be held up as shining examples; their own taste-sharing can sometimes feel quite superficial, insincere, and clichéd.

As I think about this some more, I realise that I don’t always want commentary on books to be high-falutin’ criticism anyway. Sometimes simple summaries are all I need. Even a list. I love the Top Ten lists in the Guardian (from Top Ten Literary Otters one week to Top Ten Seventeenth-Century Food Books the next). Give me a few suggestions and impressions, and I’m happy to download a free sample to my Kindle so I can make up my mind for myself.

Surely blogging is just another venue for many of the best features of traditional criticism? With lots of added features on top?

Perhaps the most curious thing to me about this article is that Stothard says he has only ever seen six films! (I wonder which six films they are?)

PS As a side note, it was depressing to note how few visitors there are in fact for the major book blogs. Am sure these are the most intelligent, diligent, and discriminating readers in the whole Interweb, but the numbers still seem disappointingly low.

How To Write A Nonfiction Book Proposal

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Content

A good nonfiction book proposal will contain:

* a good title (and probably an effective subtitle too – consider your genre).

* an overview of the work: two or three snappy paragraphs (maybe more, but probably under a page) that capture the essence of the book and how it might be distinctive or unique.

* a synopsis, probably in the form of a breakdown of the book chapter by chapter – good chapter titles will help, along with pithy summaries of each chapter’s content (probably just a few lines for each one) and a sense of how it might put forward something new or interesting to carry the story or the argument further along.

* a description of the market/readership, including the demographics of likely readers.

* a comparison with similar or competing works, which includes a sense of how this book might complement others and/or be different, or better (though avoid bragging or slagging off). Do the work: visit a library or bookshop, chat with booksellers, look up titles on Amazon, gather information about what’s already out there with a mind to showing how you are doing something different (or similar). You might also consider how you can adapt models or structures in other genres for your own content or field. This will not only show your authority on writing in this area, but also bring some editorial clarity and focus to your intention.

* biographical information, profile and platform, showing why you are the person to write this book. Explain how you are qualified, and give a sense of your likely capacity to promote and sell the book. Such material includes:
~ experience relevant to the subject of the book and a sense of your reputation in the area of the book’s content.
~ previous publications, either books or articles, and especially ones related to this subject (if expanding a successful article into a book-length treatment, it is likely that a copy of the original article will be included).
~ uses of social media: facts and figures on how you’re reaching potential readers via blogging, Twitter, and other avenues (though don’t worry too much about this if you’re, e.g., not an active Tweeter: just be irresistible some other way …).
~ reviews for previous works (either extracts from reviews or copies of entire reviews gathered together tidily).
~ endorsements from names in the field or anyone else you can approach for a blurb or a testimonial, or even to write a foreword.

* credible possibilities for publicity, promotion, and sales, e.g., ranging from specific media contacts and sales outlets where you are known, to public events and anniversaries related to the book’s content, to relevant opportunities for rights sales (e.g., translation, audio, digital).

* perhaps most importantly, a sample of writing, e.g., a couple of representative chapters of your best and most sparkling prose – it can make sense to include an introduction, as well as a sample chapter or two from the body of the work. Yes, when it comes to writing the book the introduction is often written last, when you know more fully what you’re introducing, so for the purpose of a proposal simply introduce your subject, perhaps establishing any personal connections; you might even wish to adapt this into an intelligent introduction to your synopsis – to you – rather than the sort of introduction you’ll have in the book.

* manuscript status and book format: likely word count and delivery date, plus an indication of possible design and production needs, e.g., number of photographs, artwork, maps.

Length and format of proposals

Proposals vary in length – some are a hundred pages long, while some books are sold for great sums on a couple of pages or just an idea, though these tend to be for well-established names in a field. It’s a good idea to aim for five to ten pages for the proposal itself (in addition to the sample material), and maybe up to fifteen or twenty pages if there’s more to say. Beyond that, you might start to seem long-winded.

The proposal itself can be single-spaced, especially if it’s broken up with lots of headings, but sample material should be double- or 1.5-spaced, as the final manuscript would be. I have a preference for serif faces such as Times or Georgia over sans serif faces such as Arial. (The idea: make it easy to read. Agents and editors get strained eyes.)

Sending out your proposal

Research where to send your material. Feel confident that your book will sit easily alongside other titles in the agent’s portfolio or on the publisher’s list. Your research on competing books might help with this. Use industry guides such as this year’s Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook (UK) or Writer’s Market (US). Find out who represents or edits similar writers, e.g., by looking at the acknowledgements sections in similar books, or simply by Googling ‘Who is the agent for XX YY?’. Attend conventions or festivals where you can network, meet possible interested parties, and develop a stronger instinct for what will make your book succeed.

Tailor your proposal according to specific guidelines given by the agents or publishers you select (e.g., some might want to see more sample material than others). Also follow any preferences for how to submit. Some agents and editors want hard copies, while others prefer emailed attachments.

And finally

None of the above is set in stone. There are no right answers, other than those you create for yourself and your idea, and each field has different requirements, so understand what they are. Use your common sense.

Be prepared for your writing to evolve; you don’t necessarily have to treat your original proposal as a hard and fast outline for your book. Some chapters may be merged or dropped, and other material may be added as your research takes you down new and exciting avenues. 

Editors know that books may shape up differently in the writing, but they will expect the author to deliver on a book’s promise. Any significant changes should be discussed with your editor, who will have signed up your book based on particular expectations. Be sure they are not disappointed.

Most of all, be passionate yet professional. Enthuse about your subject, know what you’re talking about, and convey that you are a writer whom an editor will want to work with, and whose writing will excite readers.

And then be that writer.