When Elephants, or 800lb Gorillas Move, Things Get Crushed.

There is an interesting article out on Amazon’s response to “sock puppet” reviews (Amazon Freaks Out). I have ranted in the past that there is no great system for book reviews that includes small publishers, self-publishers, and in particular eBook only publishing. One of those issues was “sock puppet” reviews, but as the article notes, that is a relatively small part of the problem. My bigger problem is, as I have stated before, that the reviewers as a whole are a mixed bag. They are not professional reviewers. Yeah, you have the whole “top NNN reviewer” tag, but that does not tell you anything, not really.

The techdirt.com article delves into the large number of “real” reviews that were “accidently” deleted as part of Amazon’s new automated system to prevent sock puppet reviews. Even some of their “top reviewers” were deleted.

That soapbox on the general value of Amazon reviews is one I will no doubt return to. My thought when reading the Freak Out article was more along the lines that “hey, this matches my blog tag line.”

Amazon is simply getting too big. When I was there a scant few years ago, there was already grumbling amongst the employees that it was getting too big and changing. At the time it was déjà vu from my early days at Microsoft in the early 1990s. The employees realized the company was too big.  How long before customers realize it? Customers who care, I should say. Many customers won’t care. They don’t care along the same lines as the majority who do give up various freedoms and rights don’t care in the name of security. As Franklin said, “He who sacrifices freedom for security deserves neither.”  Those who give up quality and personal service for quantity and low price deserve neither. Yeah, I know, a weak analogy and a poor metaphor. It just popped into my head. Blogs are about stream of consciousness. (I wonder how Kerouac would do in the 21st Century).

Amazon is a retail company that sometimes masquerades as a technology company. They are constantly looking for ways to shave off milliseconds on the web experience, automate the catalogs, and in general avoid ever dealing with a person face to face, voice to voice, or directly email to email. Let’s be honest, they have to with the volumes they do. They will do so more and more, to achieve the volumes they are aiming for. And, make no mistake about it. They will do this in publishing and book selling as much as any other part of their business.

And most of the world won’t care.

So, the techdirt.com article on Amazon does miss the point. When it asks “Is this really what Amazon and these authors want -- people less willing to review books they read?” The response is Amazon and the customers who buy books really don’t care. They should, but they don’t.

Amazon is becoming Google in that respect. We stopped dealing with Google for books long ago. The system was terrible for selling ebooks (they failed three times) and you never, ever, could get ahold of a real person as an author, or publisher. Amazon has not figured out that it has a LOT of different customers. Authors, publishers, sellers on their system, users of their cloud services, on demand printing, Audible, audio and video content owners, games and programs, and on and on. In the end Amazon will focus on volume and sacrifice some customers for others, in order to grow and get a tiny bit more revenue per transaction. Because, they are still a retailer. Their margins are still in the mid-single digits. It’s all about volume.

So, where does this rant lead? Same old soapbox. Watch out when dancing with the Elephant, whether you are a author, a publisher, a reviewer, or a customer. Elephants cause damage when they stumble. Authors get crushed. But, nobody really seems to care, as long as the price of that next book is 50 cents to a dollar lower.  Hey, with about five to ten books you could buy a latte on those savings. You know that latte that provides you with many hours of satisfaction….

Another small restaurant opened—another one closed

And what the hell does that have to do with writing and publishing?

I tend to make strange connections in both my writing and in business, which is one of the reasons I like Freakonomics.  My observation is that there is a similarity between my observation of how many small restaurants open for business and then go belly up and writing (and publishing).

A huge number of really smart and often successful people try and open a restaurant. Have you noticed the number of celebrities who open up restaurants? New immigrants? “Retired” business men and women? Others? It’s the low barrier to entry. You really don’t need any special skills to open a restaurant, nor do you need huge amounts of capital (some, but not huge).

You do work your ass off. If you are a great chef, your odds of a favorable review go up and this increases your odds of success, but neither guarantee success.

Yeah, you’re smart. You are starting to see the analogy (imperfect though it may be). In a down economy I actually see more restaurants starting up, not less.  And more of them fold. The competition heats up. Randomness, like location, or some gimmick help determine success.

What makes for a great restaurant? (You figure out the application to authors, I trust your intelligence).

There are inspired chefs, who never had training and are still just incredible and there are those who go to culinary school and are technically really good, but something is missing and there are those who have both the training and inspiration to some degree. The little restaurant in the neighborhood I used to live in was run by an Czech woman who had 1 item on the lunch menu each day, 1 soup, and a choice of pastries.  She made them all herself. Very nice, food. Seating for 4 total. ToGo available. You were never going to find French food there. The food was plain, simple, but Czech (similar to German or Austrian). The restaurant folded, but fortunately because her pastries were doing so well she concentrated on those and sold them at farmers markets (this is all in Seattle).

She found her niche and she stuck to it. She concentrated on her strength and never got formal training. She is never going to get rich, but she makes a living.

What all these successful restaurateurs have in common is that they work hard, they are professional, and they either perfect their niche, or they are constantly experimenting. New fusion of old ideas.  After all, food has been around forever, how many new ideas can there be? Yeah, same thing with stories and novels.

What strikes me is that in a down economy, there is less of a market for restaurants – less people eating out – yet more restaurants than ever are opening. And closing. The restaurants that are successful in a down economy are not exactly the same as those in an up economy. Cheap is good. Simple. Comfort food. Value. The smart restaurateur will adapt. Some will open up another restaurant, with a different theme. You might not even know they were owned by the same person. Many, seven out of eight, will go bankrupt. Many owners will try again.

Colonel Sanders, as many know, didn’t get successful (really successful) until he was almost 50 and he started out serving food out of his gas station. Ironically, his path to success really started in the great depression. It wasn’t until he was 65 that he, due to failure, managed to get franchises going.

So, in this down economy, be aware that there will be more, not less competition, and what you serve may need to change over time, but you can still be successful.

Reason 100 why editors/agents don’t bother with personal rejections

The other month I gave a detailed explanation as to what I thought might be wrong with a manuscript and why we were rejecting it. This included typos, repetitive sentences, and some flawed research on the first five pages. Yet, at the kernel was a good idea.

My thought in writing the personal rejection, that included pointing out these issues, was that perhaps this writer had never submitted before, had never had a personalized rejection, and indeed may not have researched how to submit. I was trying to be encouraging.

I failed miserably. 

The reaction from the author was fast and vitriolic. Why couldn’t I just say “no,” he asked. I didn’t have to, as he said, “write a novel rejecting me.” The swear words were liberally sprinkled in the response.

Now, we deal almost exclusively with email. This tends to be a rapid response medium, with often no thinking before hitting send. I have been as guilty as anyone of this. I will assume that some of this came from the author reacting and not thinking.

That said, no editor is going to feel any reward from this sort of response and the reaction will be “the more I get these, the less personal my responses will be.”

Really, this is a long winded way of saying, take any detail in a response from an editor as something valuable. If ten minutes went into that response, plus the time it took to read the query and the first pages, then you are getting something of value. Thank the agent, or editor, for their time.  Don’t demand more of their time. Don’t get angry at the rejection.

Detail means something moved the agent or editor to actually pause and write! Take it and use it! Don't take it out on the person trying to help.

Genre Labels

Some MFA programs divide their students into Fiction, Non-fiction, and Poetry and label those as the genres they teach in.  To most of us genre is more granular and usually in the fiction domain.

Genres can be useful, but in postmodern literature (a label, perhaps a genre) they can simultaneously be misleading. Yet, many publishers and agents demand a genre label and even consider a good query letter one where the author understands their genre.

This really points more to the desperation of both agents and publishers to make marketing easy. OK, not so much easy, but easier and streamlined, and to some extent self-fulfilling.

As I go through the submissions each week, I try and avoid putting any manuscript into a firm genre category.  Yet, even as I avoid the traditional genre labels, I consciously have started to sort manuscripts by internal labels. Maybe they are “New Libri Genres.” This internal sorting matches up new manuscripts with our existing set of books. I am looking for patterns. Why? Because we have limited bandwidth, limited resources, and accepting manuscripts that have something in common with the READER of our existing manuscripts helps. Readers include reviewers. If I send a book to a reviewer who reviewed five our books, she will probably review the sixth one expecting it to have some commonality.

Yet, one of my favorite diatribes is the label science fiction, or fantasy. Why isn’t Never Let Me Go labeled a “science fiction?” Because Kazuo Ishiguro hates that label. He and his publisher know that the label will turn off prior readers of Remains of the Day. Despite staying away from the label the book was short listed for the Arthur C. Clarke award. Simultaneously, would Time Magazine have picked it as the best book of 2005 if it had been marketed at Science Fiction? Probably not.

Sure, the label “Science Fiction” has gained considerable credibility over the years, but it is still generally considered a literary smear.

In the Fantasy realm, the literary cop out is to label it Magical Realism. Gene Wolfe--considered by many to be one of America’s best writers (though far from the most popular even within Fantasy/Science Fiction)—famously said Magical Realism is Fantasy written in Spanish.

Yet, the label is useful.  If you hear magical realism, you probably won’t be picking up Twilight! The label is a short cut. It is useful if it is understood. The problem is with those books that you miss out on because you rely on the shortcut. “You” includes the agent, the publisher and the reader. Or, if you pick something up just because of the label. For instance the excellent book, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, has some interesting reviews on Amazon.  A significant number of people gave it one star. If you dig into those reviews, they hated the ending. If you dig into this some more you wonder if they read the descriptions and the labels.  It is a retelling of Hamlet and a good number of the critical reviewers hated that everyone died at the end (time to read Hamlet people). But, I think additionally, the label Magical Realism should have been applied. The other readers who hated it seemed to gravitate to the technique that David Wroblewski uses of magic, visions, ghosts, and potions. These were in Hamlet and fit in the Magical Realism sub-genre. The magic is just there. It is not brooded over. Readers might then have accepted it. Of course the issue was that the book also had one additional label: Oprah.  Oprah highlighted this book.

She also highlighted The Road. A post apocalypse novel, McCarthy certainly did not embrace the term “science fiction.” I would venture that many Oprah fans were also surprised at how dark the book was and the label as an Oprah book mislead them.

So, don’t ignore labels, but supplement them. The best way to supplement labels for books is to read a lot of them.  Then you can use the comparison label: This book is a magical realist permutation on Hamlet, with the feel of of Gene Wolf and Cormac McCarthy. A tragedy with characters that will haunt you for days. Now that will get me to read a few pages at least!

Stealing a headline: Can Publishing Really Be Replaced by a Button?

This headline came from Book Business in a “blurb” to promote a virtual publishing business conference. It is the topic Rory O’Connor will speak on at his keynote address.

I suppose I am a broken record on this (yes, the anachronism of “record” is intentional). The answer is “yes” if you feel publishing is simply making your writing available to random people.  Of course that was true when the first web page was put up, 21 years ago. Yeah, e-readers have changed things, but the concept isn’t all that much different, just the scale of adoption.

The question isn’t really “can it” but “should it” and “will it.”

I have been pretty blunt on the “should it” in past postings. It shouldn’t: for quality reasons, for author bandwidth reasons, for filtering reasons, and for editorial reasons. Market forces may ignore all those reasons. The market doesn’t give a damn about critics. It really doesn’t give a damn about whether authors (or publishers) make money or not. In the end, it may not even care whether Amazon exists or not.

Hell, Google (or Bing) could simply put out a standard that anyone with a webpage can post a compliant ePub and links to a payment system and Google (Bing) would have a special search (say “compliant.book.<genre>” or “compliant.book.<author>”) and all books show up in the search, with their cover and price and a way to buy it. No Amazon. No B&N. No publisher.

Note to patent trolls. This idea is now “public.”

Think of this as the Amazon model in extreme. Amazon already deals with spam books (same book published over and over with different names, a few paragraphs changed etc.) There is already no quality control on CONTENT (forget the formatting, that is easy).

What will happen, if we go this route (and it is certainly possible), is that publishing will actually become a marketing agency for the very successful authors.

This is an extension of the “minor league” theory thrown out in yesterday’s blog. The new “marketing publisher” will simply troll the eco-system and see what is selling above a certain level. No real regard to quality. No need to publish “risky” books at all. No wasted advances. Focus only on what is already selling and promote the hell out of it. University presses may still put out a few as budget permits, ensuring some quality for specialized niches.

What’s the difference between that model and the current model, you may say. The current model allows publishers to subsidize many new authors and take a chance on them. The current model also allows small publishers to focus on their passions and grow their niche. The new model encourages authors to self publish and this eliminates the need and the opportunity for a publisher. The consumer may not really care, if current trends hold true. The average author may not care either. Writing is usually a passion, not a method of making a lot of money. Under this model a lot of authors will make a little money, more authors will make almost a living, and mega authors will continue to exist, but will be a more volatile group (i.e. the members of the group will change more frequently than currently). I can’t say this is bad per se, but I feel that the quality by yesterday’s standards will decrease as a statistical average (certainly produced, but also consumed).

So, yes, it can be replaced by a button. I hope it doesn’t, but if I have learned anything in 22 years in technology, hope has little to do with things. Neither does the best “technology.” The market will move in its own direction. Along the way, I hope we can publish (as a publisher!) a few good books and maybe as time permits I can write a few too! If you are an author: Enjoy The Ride, I expect turbulence ahead.

A Response to “Publishing is Broken” blog.

I read an excellent blog/article today on Forbes.com:

Publishing Is Broken, We're Drowning In Indie Books - And That's A Good Thing

This is a (great) six page discussion on indie/self publishing and it hits on a recurring theme of mine, which is we need more reviewers (filters) that are trusted sources for independently published books (which category I include micro-publishers such as New Libri). Before going to that theme (reviews), I would like to digress to another point David Vinjamuri raises: “Mainstream authors …  are inclined to believe that publishing is a meritocracy where the best work by the most diligent writers gets represented, acquired, published and sold.”

First, any mainstream authors who stumble on this blog and vehemently disagree—save your breath, I know that not ALL mainstream authors feel this way. Vinjamuri gives quotable examples. This attitude pervades even MFA programs. It simply is not true. History is littered with authors who were diligent and good and only come to light after their death. Independent publishers (micro and self) provide an outlet for excellent books. They may not sell, but I think that is partially due to the prime subject of this blog. How to get noticed (with reviews) in a vast sea of … mediocrity.

The short answer is “I don’t know” and no one does.

Vinjamuri alludes to another theme I often bring up. Publishing (writing) is NOT the same as the music industry, despite everyone seeing eBooks as similar to MP3s and the industry shaking up in similar ways.  When was the last time you went to a bar to listen to an independent author read?  Vinjamuri notes that: “You don’t hear Christina Aguilera or Adam Levine knocking indie bands. Instead they joined a show called “The Voice” which aims to capitalize on the credibility of indie artists by finding journeyman artists and giving them a shot at major label contracts. Indie filmmakers are revered, not reviled, partly because they eschew the studio system and its constraints on artistic expression.”

Vinjamuri suggests a Rotten Tomatoes for books. Maybe. Goodreads comes close, in some ways. Even Amazon with its super reviewers comes close.  The difference (which Vinjamuri does not really discuss) is that even a Rotten Tomatoes can handle, say, a thousand movies a year. Could it handle 200,000?  There are a lot of self published books out there. The entire set of books for sale is now the “slush pile.”

Price is not a real criteria. Many indie books are overpriced, many mainstream publisher books are now becoming reasonably priced (especially mid-sized publishers).

Everyone points to “social media” as the solution. Pahleeze! Most really good fiction authors are similar to really good software programmers, they suck at social anything (I know there are exceptions, but as a tech geek and writer, I certainly fit the bill myself). This makes Vinjamuri’s prediction that “Mainstream Publishers Will Use Indie Publishing as a Minor League … And Find a New Profit Model” a bit scary. Because, he admits the criteria of picking a book out of that minor league is how well the author plays the social media game. I hope he is wrong. What I hope is that the tiny micro presses (not self publishing) act as the minor leagues.  If an author passes the bar with the micro press, who has skin in the game, then the author should be worth a second look. Somehow the big publisher should find a way to subsidize the small publisher for this work. Authors—persistent authors—will stay with the micro press because just like a baseball minor league player, they love the game and will play no matter what. In this respect I hope Vinjamuri is right, that the minor league exists, but I hope it is not a social media contest!

What do you get out of an MFA in Creative Writing?

Given the increased scrutiny on the value of some degrees, the question of the value of an MFA in particular arises from time to time.

Certainly it will come as no surprise to any serious writer that a strict monetary return-on-investment (ROI) cannot be used. If it were, we would all get—momentarily—depressed. A serious writer will ask what is the qualitative ROI for pursuing an MFA? Good writing programs, such as the low residency Rainier Writing Workshop (RWW), ask the same question. “What are you getting out of the program?” is something Stan Rubin or Judith Kitchen (both who run the program, if a writing program can be said to be run. Herding a group of writers makes cat herding look easy) ask the students all the time.

The question Stan and Judith ask is one of the qualitative benefits of an MFA. A good MFA supports the growth of the writers as its focus, not the growth of its reputation. The latter usually follows, but that reputation will be one of fostering the growth of the students, the writers and their craft. Not their career, not their reputation, but their craft. This requires both the students and the instructors to, as Doonesbury once said, “check your egos at the door.”

With that focus on craft, how do I answer the question of “what do you get out of your MFA?” As with many things, I look for patterns and one that occurs to me is my circling back to needing 10,000 hours to become really good (even great) in anything.

With finite lifespans and the need for a means to survive in 21st century America, many of us have not had the time to focus 10,000 hours on creative writing. I believe that an MFA helps focus the number of hours you devote to creative writing and makes that focus more effective. Could you learn everything at an MFA on your own? Certainly. Could you learn it in 2 to 3 years, without stops and starts and dead ends? Maybe: if you’re lucky, driven, and more focused than I am.

I have no scientific analysis to back me up, but I feel a good MFA shaves 2,000 to 3,000 hours off of the time you need to spend getting really good. It shaves that off in an elapsed time of 2 to 3 years, rather than the 5 years it would take many of us who have a “day job.”  Combined with the actual time you spend on the MFA, which is about 2-3,000 hours, you are about half way to the goal of 10,000 hours.  For some who enter an MFA program, they have those 5,000 hours already under their belt. For others, this means there is plenty of work left. For everyone graduating an MFA it is a reminder that even with your 10,000 hours, if you stop practicing, the clock runs backwards.

Many RWW students have well in excess of 10,000 hours of writing, but they want to shift their focus in their writing. The concert pianist who has 10,000 hours of classical piano playing will not become a jazz pianist overnight.

This is why the last residency of RWW has multiple reminders on what a writing life is all about. Continuing your writing.

To answer Stan’s question as to “What are you getting out of the program?” the answer is “a lot, but only as much as I put into it—but when I do, it gets multiplied at RWW, so its all worth it.”