Publishers need readers. Gutenberg’s financiers sent envoys to trade shows in Florence and Paris. They went to promote his new Bibles and drum up pre-orders. We know this because in 1454, an envoy to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor traveled to Frankfurt for its annual fall fair. That year, the buzz was about a man with a new Bible on display that was “absolutely free from error and printed with extreme elegance.” According to the same envoy, “Buyers were said to be lined up even before the books were finished.”
A year later, cardinals in the Catholic Church were trying to get copies of these remarkable Bibles, but they were sold out to monasteries, churches, and private buyers. So although I have an image of Gutenberg working in his sooty, sauerkraut-smelling workshop, using nothing but ink made by local manufacturers and paper from nearby forests and perhaps even lead and tin from mines right outside his city, commerce was still an outward, centripetal force in his world.
In the early days of the printed book, publishers like Gutenberg served all three functions in the triad. In addition to printing and packaging the book, the publisher would often retail it by taking pre-orders or offering copies for sale to patrons afterward. Publishers were also often authors. Whether they took books from the public domain or commissioned their own or outright stole and retranslated works by other publishers, they functioned as authors for the first hundred years of publishing as we know it.
Over time, the situation grew more complex with the establishment of a class of people who functioned as full-time authors and the establishment of retailers. So although in the early days publishers held all the power, we’re in a situation with the printed book now where these three functions are split.
With ebooks, we’re seeing the three functions come together again. All the power is being centralized. But the publishers don’t have it. The retailers do.
Some innovative publishers like HarperCollins and O’Reilly Media have built retail websites where you can buy and download ebooks directly from the publisher, and Harlequin does a great job with its own retail website. But those are the exceptions.
What has publishers worried most is that retailers like Amazon are getting into the publishing space. Amazon does this in print with its CreateSpace and BookSurge self-publishing businesses, which allow authors who aren’t represented by agents or publishers to get their books into print. And it has its own ebook publishing program.
Because publishers go after titles they think will sell well, they usually ignore self-published authors. Publishers have a nose for money as well as talent. Even if they guess wrong occasionally, they’re more discerning than not. And their discernment prevents the market from being flooded by books that nobody’s likely to read. Otherwise, there’d be nothing to stop everyone from writing their memoirs or books about their cats.
But Amazon turned this practice on its head by encouraging authors who would otherwise be ignored by publishers to join with them, giving the retailer an exclusive on this content. So if one of these self-published books actually does well, Amazon alone has it and can prevent Barnes & Noble or Apple or anyone else from selling that book.
This is especially true for digital books, where Kindle’s exclusive file format prevents others from selling the content. Authors are flocking to self-publishing at places like Amazon because they can be assured of greater royalties—often up to 70 percent of the book’s list price, for digital anyway. That is pretty good when you consider that for print books, publishers often only pay an author back 10 percent of the book’s list price.
As the museum curators of our imaginations, book publishers don’t like the undiscerning attitude that retailers are taking, how retailer-publishers like Amazon are just as happy to publish a potential bestseller as they are a book of bad cat poetry. (And believe me, there’s a lot of self-published cat poetry. In my opinion, only T. S. Eliot is allowed to write cat poetry.)
Now, retailers have a lot to learn about being book-content curators, but you can see them starting. For example, Amazon has a team that buys rights to popular books and then republishes and repromotes them. And publishers have a lot to learn about retail, but you can see them starting too. Now that they’re in charge of their own prices, they have to learn about competitive pricing and how to price content for special times of the year like “dads and grads” sales events.
The book industry is topsy-turvy now, but you can see how retailers might take over publishing, and it’s only natural to wonder if retailers will take over the role of authors, as well. You could imagine Apple commissioning authors to write books or hiring in-house talent to create them. You could imagine Barnes & Noble hiring MFA graduates to crank out novels or coming up with a loose affiliate network of independent writers under contract to write content in the way that the popular Dummies series of books does. You could imagine authorship becoming a corporate commodity. And with that, all three functions in the book triad could come together under retailers instead of under publishers, which is where they started in Gutenberg’s time.
Regardless of where the book industry ends up, what’s clear is that power is shifting. And it’s going to shift toward those who understand technology best.
The centripetal force of technology emboldens innovation, increases complexity, and gives readers more options. Regardless of who dominates the triad, readers win. We’re in a tremendous time now when content for ebooks is being sought from mainstream and indie publishers, from top-selling and unknown authors, from startups all around the globe, and even from established technology conglomerates like Google.
Millions of texts across hundreds of libraries are being digitized, even tomes from the 1800s with pages often more brittle than pressed violets. Tech companies like Google and the Internet Archive are scanning all of this content so that the future will have these books.
Big Five publishers are moving more or less quickly to accommodate this technological revolution. Some of them are posturing wildly with their arms waving, as if to say, “Yes, I’m part of this!” But in reality, they often just sit on committees and dabble from the sidelines. Mainstream publishers who still take their triple-martini lunches (yes, it still happens) and focus wholly on print books and established relationships between authors and agents and printers are neglecting the new players. The technologists, the software companies, and the entrepreneur-innovators move at a Silicon Valley pace, rather than the nine-to-five life of Manhattan publishers accustomed to taking all of August off as a vacation, as if Manhattan is somehow part of Italy.
I spoke of the Big Five publishers, but perhaps the industry should start talking about the Big Six publishers, because Amazon is in publishing now. In addition to its self-publishing programs, it has a publishing imprint called Encore, which, in its own words, “uses information such as customer reviews on Amazon.com to identify exceptional, overlooked books and authors with more potential than their sales may indicate.” It uses crowd-sourced reviews to help make its publishing decisions, rather than relying on the traditional editorial process.