The End of the World As We Know It

Over the last couple of months, the internet has been abuzz with articles predicting the End, prognosticating exactly what will happen next, and speculating about the fall out and what might happen to those who choose not to fall in step. Blogs offer a wide range of opinions, ranging from dire predictions of total devastation to cynical jabs at the doomsayers. Social networking sites are filled with pleas to stop the madness, calls to bring it on, and quips about the panic that has ensued.

No matter what your hopes for the future, one thing is certain: the publishing industry as we know it is undergoing what may be the most revolutionary change since the invention of the moveable-type printing press. The reasons for the change are broad and varied, but basically, the advent of a whole new format for delivering and enjoying books has shaken the industry to its core. And traditional publishers have realized that they must re-write their business models or perish.

Over the last century of so, the business model morphed into a giant playground in which the behemoths of the publishing world held all the marbles. In order to maximize profits, they bought books from writers at the lowest possible price. They decided who to published, who got publicity, who got the perks. They refused to read unsolicited manuscripts. They dictated to book stores which books to feature on end caps and in displays. They’ve been the Big Dogs on the Block for so long that they seem to have forgotten that sometimes, a whole bunch of little dogs working in a pack can overpower the big ones.

That’s exactly what has been happening for the last few years. Small publishers have been popping up all over, giving the large houses a run for their money. Improved software made self-publishing a viable option for many writers. Online booksellers, particularly Amazon, have amassed enough clout that they are now in the driver’s seat on many issues, particularly pricing issues. Many of the larger houses are now on the ropes, struggling to survive.

And now the biggest of the little dogs has entered the scene: ePublishing. This may be the single most important innovation to hit the publishing industry since Guttenberg started printing Bibles back in 1452. What makes it so revolutionary is that it cuts out most of the middle men. No need for agents or publishers. All an author needs to succeed is a computer to produce his manuscript and a platform to launch it on.  

As someone trying to break into the field, I see many reasons eBooks are good for the authors, and especially for new authors. As publishing costs have risen and the amount of disposable income has fallen, traditional publishers have become less likely to take a chance on an unproven author. They would rather publish books by proven entities or books with themes that can be easily promoted as "this isn't Twilight, but it's like it." Most publishing houses won't even look at a manuscript that has not been vetted by an agent. Any author wishing to be published traditionally must first find an agent who will accept him as a client, then hope that the agent has enough connections to get the book in front of an editor—but not just any editor. It still has to be the right editor. I know it's always been that way, but with the money being so tight and with so many publishers being on the ropes financially, breaking in is tough right now.

If an author's book is picked up, he usually has to sign a five-book contract with the publishing house. In exchange for his signature, he is given an advance, usually between $4000 and $7000, against future sales. He will receive nothing else until his sales have reached the point that he has repaid that advance. And because he has an agent, he must also pay a 15% commission from the advance check and from all future royalty checks. Don't get me wrong—I'm not dissing agents. I think if you are going the traditional publisher route, an agent provides services that are invaluable.  

EBooks eliminate all the middle men. The author simply formats and posts his book to the eBook site (Kindle, Nook, etc.) and lets the internet do all the work. In exchange for hosting the eBook, the online bookseller gets 30% of the sales price. The author gets 70%. That's right—70% seems to be the industry standard right now. Considering that, with traditional publishers, an author often gets pennies per book sold, I’m beginning to think that epublishing may be the wave of the future as far as authors are concerned.

The upside for the authors becomes readily apparent. But is there an upside for the reader? Of course there is. In fact, there are several. Firstly, eBooks are often slightly cheaper, with many of the classics being available for free download. Storage is less of an issue, as hundreds of books fit into a device the size on an oversized paperback. And because any author can ePublish a book, the number of available titles becomes mind-boggling.

Of course, one of the drawbacks of ePublishing is that any author can publish a book. No pesky editors to make changes or corrections. No stick-in-the-mud agents telling him that this book really stinks. No one to stop his dream of becoming a writer. With no gatekeeper, any goober with a computer can publish a book, upload it to Amazon, and voila, he gets to write the word “author” on the occupation line on his tax forms. There is no guarantee that the “book” will even be readable, let alone enjoyable.

Many readers refuse to participate in the revolution. They prefer their old-fashioned, paper-and-cardstock books. They romanticize the feel of the paper, the smell of the ink. And that’s okay, because the world is about choices. 

My take on this whole thing: there's room in this world for both kinds of books. Traditional bound books, their pages blanketed with ink. Electronic books glowing, the soft hum of the eReader. We may decide to purchase books in different formats, depending on the purpose of the book, the meaning it holds for us, and the cost. Imagine not having to tote around all your college textbooks, but instead having only one eReader. Imagine renting textbooks electronically, and when the semester is over, simply jettisoning the text from Introduction to Philosophy. Imagine the symbolism of giving your love a hard back edition of Sonnets from the Portuguese or giving your child a copy of Now We Are Six.

It's an exciting time to be a writer.

To Cuss or Not to Cuss...

  This blog entry is rated PG-13 for indelicate language, radical ideas, and a photo of sexy shoes.

To cuss or not to cuss. That is the question. And it's a question most writers have to face sooner or later. Sure, it's probably "nobler in the mind" to cut loose with the obscenities and allow a character to express himself in a way that might be quite natural for him. Let the chips fall where they may. Like all artists, a writer has to establish some level of credibility with his readers or he risks being thought of as a hack, or worse, a sell-out.

But the dilemma arises when the writer realizes that "Hey! I have a great story here. Why isn't anyone buying it?" is bumping up against the wall of "We here at Magazine Magazine love all writers and all story types. We encourage writers to be creative and use words brilliantly in order to establish engaging, real characters. But no gratuitous cussing."

Of course, the problem is in establishing the definition of gratuitous. What's gratuitous to one person may be quite tame for another. What's gratuitous in one crowd is ordinary in rowdier one. And while the writer can try to figure out exactly where the line is for a given magazine by reading several back issues, it's often difficult to decide whether the lack of adult language is due to the policies of the magazine or the timidity of the writers. Zeroing in on "the line" is easy when coarse language is present; the barrier is much more difficult to find in the absence of an f-bomb.

I recently found myself wandering in this territory. The first-person protagonist in one of my short stories is a scrappy, somewhat angry twenty-something whose spirit of adventure leads her to be blindsided by misadventure. I decided to send the story to a well-established magazine with no guidelines regarding language, gratuitous or otherwise, using their on-line submission system. The guidelines said they are interested in stories that "take risks," yet another phrase that is problematic. Risk as in jumping out of an airplane without a parachute, or risk as in drinking milk three days after the expiration date? I'd read several stories, and found no compelling evidence one way or the other that the magazine had an unpublished "no cursing" policy, nor did I find a clear definition of "risk." 

The story was rejected within one minute. The auto-mailed message that told my story had been opened was time-stamped at 9:33; the rejection, at 9:34. Perhaps there were other problems, but I can't help thinking that the reason for such a speedy turnaround is the use of the phrase "Fuck, fuck, fuck" as part of the girl's character-establishing inner dialogue at the top of the second paragraph. Just for the record, the phrase is used as a non-sexual expression of frustration.

Perhaps we will soon find out if my theory is correct. Yesterday I submitted the story to another publisher, this time omitting the triple f-bomb on page one. I did not, however, remove the reference to "fuck-me pumps" on page seven. After all, I don't want to be a total sell-out.