L’esprit d’escalier

Marty went poking through search terms that led to his blog and found something a bit disturbing.  Curiosity started poking this cat, and I peeked at my own.

Some of them are questions I can answer!

1. what’s the counting crows song that goes ba da ba da da

That’s an easy one.  “Another Horsedreamer’s Blues,” based on the play Geography of a Horsedreamer by Sam Shepard.  Here, give it a listen:

2. what to say to a valued publisher when the price is too high

Uh.  Okay, this question is kind of vague to me.  I’m assuming this is someone upset over the price of a book or eBook.  It appears that by calling them a “valued” publisher, you have some respect for their other work and have purchased their titles in the past.  So, first of all, approach them respectfully.  Most publishers will have an address you can write to with concerns.  It might appear to be a generic customer service email address, but it will get filtered on to the appropriate people.  When you write to them, lay out the reasons that you believe a price is too high:  is the binding falling apart, or the paper quality poor?  Are they charging $25 for a 50-page book with lots of blank white space on every page?

Be honest, but be polite.  And, also, do  your research.  Do you think eBooks shouldn’t cost more than $9.99 or less?  Why?  If your answer is “because they don’t cost anything to make,” close your email program right now, do not press send, come here while I smite you. Someone finally talked about the cost of books, both e- and print, in the New York Times.  Go read that.  And go read Tobias Buckell, who posted about this a while back.  Also, Charlie Stross, who’s taking us step by step through how books are made.

Now, if you dropped $400 on a Kindle and don’t feel like shelling out $10 for an eBook because it’s too expensive omg, I’ll give you a running start.  Would you whine about buying a car and then having to pay to put gas in it?  Or buying a refrigerator and having to buy food to put in it?  No?  Then stop crying about having to pay for books to read on the device you bought for the purpose of reading books.

Another context for this question that occurred to me:  are you an author who feels that the price your publisher has set on your book is too high?  Do you have a literary agent going to bat for you?  Talk it over with your agent, first.  If you’re unagented, ask your editor (again, politely and respectfully) how the publisher came to that pricing decision, and if there’s any wriggle room with it.

3.  tales from the kitchen cannibal

I… what?  Okay, I can’t answer this one, but I feel like it has the potential to be a hilarious zombie story.  Someone write it and entertain me with it. GO!  In the meantime, there’s an episode of The I.T. Crowd entitled “Moss and the German” that might give you a giggle.

4. how to say roy in french

I believe that would be kind of like roo-wah.  Though, the way you say roi, meaning king, is more like rwah.  I could also be completely wrong, since it’s been something ridiculous like fifteen years since I took French.

5. stuff of legends ian gibson

Needs to come out NOW.  But, alas, unless I can scrounge an ARC out of someone at Ace Books, I’m stuck waiting six more months for it just like the rest of you.  However, in the meantime (and through some googling of my own), I see that fellow Feathermooninite Ian Gibson has a blog.  To which you should go.

6. all royalties are based on net amount received by publisher (wholesale price achieved)

I don’t get what the parenthetical statment at the end means, and I’m neither an agent nor a lawyer, but your standard royalties for print books from a commercial publisher should be based off of your book’s cover price, not the net.  I can’t really speak to ebooks, since the times, they are a-changin’ in that regard.

That’s about all the wisdom I have for today, though if you have any other burning questions for me, go ahead and leave ‘em in the comments.  I’ll see what I can do!

(Apologies to Judith Viorst and the Alexander books for the title.)

I’m seeing some new traffic because someone on the Smart Bitches comment thread linked to my “Repent, Harlequin?” post, so, um, hi there, new people!  Pull up a chair, because (drumrolllllll)…

Finally, the number-crunching post!

However, before I start throwing math at you (I know, I’m such a tease), I want to go over a few terms regarding the different kinds of publishing out there.  I’ve seen a lot of people equating self-publishing with vanity publishing, and while sometimes vanity presses try to sell their services as self-publishing, they’re unfortunately smearing their bad reputations all over the people who have truly self-published.

SFWA has an excellent page devoted to it, and the Writer Beware team puts it far better than I ever could, so first I’m going to point you here.

You might have noticed here that I try very hard not to use the term “traditional publishers” when I’m referring to what SFWA correctly defines as “commercial” publishers, as “traditional publishing” is a phrase coined by a scam publisher who I’m not going to link to here.  So, Random House, Tor, Little, Brown & Company, HarperCollins, and, yes, even the advance-paying, editorial-having, books-on-bookstore-shelves part of Harlequin, those are all commercial publishers. So, SFWA’s defintion of commercial publishers:

A commercial publisher purchases the right to publish a manuscript (usually together with other rights, known as subsidiary rights), and pays the author a royalty on sales. Most also pay an advance on royalties. Commercial publishers are highly selective, publishing only a tiny percentage of manuscripts submitted. They handle every aspect of editing, publication, distribution, and marketing. There are no costs to the author.

Next, let’s look at self-publishing — true self-publishing, that is.  SFWA again:

Self-publishing, like vanity publishing, requires the author to bear the entire cost of publication, and also to handle all marketing, distribution, storage, etc. However, rather than paying for a pre-set package of services, the author puts those services together himself. Because every aspect of the process can be out to bid, self-publishing can be much more cost effective than vanity publishing; it can also result in a higher-quality product. All rights, the ISBN, and completed books are owned by the author, who keeps all proceeds from sales.

Is self-publishing easy?  No.  It requires a whole lot of work from the author that chooses to go that route, and I’d venture that the more successful self-published titles are put out there by people with an idea of how the industry works.  Author Teri Woods went the self-publishing route, selling books out of the trunk of her car.  Brunonia Barry, author of The Lace Reader, self-published and sold her book in and around Salem, MA, where it takes place.  Both Woods and Barry sold enough of their books to make major commercial houses take notice and offer them book deals, but neither success story happened overnight.

Also, they self-published.

Still Alice author Lisa Genova (who commented here once omg /fangirl /squee), published through iUniverse knowing she’d have to do all the marketing and publicity legwork herself.  She used their services for printing and shipping the books, period, the end. The rest, she did on her own, with an eye towards being picked up by a commercial publisher:

It’s important to know that a self-published book was not my goal. I self-published because I couldn’t make any headway on the conventional road to a book deal. My self-publishing goal was to demonstrate that Still Alice had an enthusiastic and sizeable audience. I wanted to give my book a chance to wave its arms in the air and yell at the top of its lungs, to create a buzz loud enough for the literary agents and publishing houses to hear. And at the end of my self-published day, I still wanted a book deal from a traditional publishing house.

Again, someone with an idea of how the publishing industry works, making the model work for her.  While normally I’d put iUniverse squarely in the vanity publisher category — their “editorial services” echo Harlequin Horizons’ in a lot of ways, and surprise, they’re owned by Author Solutions, too — Ms. Genova used them as a self-publisher.  As she said in her reply to my previous post (/re-squee!):  “I fully realized that I was not going to make a living off of the self-published version of Still Alice.”

So what is a vanity press, precisely?  What differentiates them from honest-to-god self-publishers?  Back to SFWA’s definitions:

A vanity publisher relies on its authors as its main source of income–whether by charging fees for publication or other services, or requiring authors to buy or pre-sell their own books. It often presents itself as a publisher (sometimes claiming to be a “traditional” publisher and concealing its fees) rather than a self-publishing service, claiming to be selective despite employing little meaningful quality screening. Adjunct services (editing, marketing, and/or distribution) are generally minimal or of dubious value. A vanity publisher claims various rights by contract, and owns the ISBN and the completed books, which remain in the publisher’s possession until sold. Payment to the author is in the form of a royalty.

See that bit about claiming to be a “traditional” publisher?  From Harlequin Horizons’ “Our Advantages” page:

Harlequin Horizons is a division of Harlequin Enterprises Limited, a global leader in romance and women’s fiction. The intent behind creating Harlequin Horizons is to give more aspiring romance writers and women’s fiction writers the opportunity to publish their books and achieve their dreams without going through the submission process with a traditional publishing house.

However, we understand you may aspire to be published with a traditional house – a noble aspiration. While there is no guarantee that if you publish with Harlequin Horizons you will picked up for traditional publishing, Harlequin will monitor sales of books published through Harlequin Horizons for possible pick-up by its traditional imprints.

Bolding mine.  Four counts of “traditional publishing” in two paragraphs.  Awesome. Though, I do have to concede that Horizons isn’t claiming to be the traditional publisher here — they’re using the term to describe commercial publishers.  It’s still frustrating that they’re perpetuating a phrase coined by a scam publisher, though.

Where they do hit the vanity-press criteria, though, is just about everywhere else.

Relies on authors as its main source of income?  Check.

Presents itself as a publisher?  Check — they have a page dedicated to “The Five Chapters of Publishing” and while they call their business “Assisted Self-Publishing,” they tout the ability to “retain more control over the editing and artistic process” as a perk.  Guys, it’s not.  If you’re the average first-time author, chances are you know precisely jack and shit about the editorial and artistic processes.

Adjunct services of minimal or dubious value?  Big gorram check.  Minimal in the packages, dubious in the add-ons.

They don’t seem to be claiming rights (though I haven’t seen the “non-exclusive contract” they offer, so that’s still up for interpretation).  However, I’m uncomfortable with the way they spin it:

When you self-publish with Harlequin Horizons you only pay for the services and packages you need and you retain all the rights to your book. Retaining the rights to your book is a big difference between self-publishing and traditional publishing. With traditional publishing, a publisher will buy the rights to your book up front and then print your book. With self-publishing you, the author, remain in control through the whole publishing process. You can also continue to market your book to other publishers and outlets at your own pace.

There’s that “traditional publishing” thing again.  Yes, a commercial publisher buys the rights to your book, but sweet flying spaghetti monster, that’s not a bad thing!  When a publisher buys the rights to publish your book, you get paid. And if someone wants to buy the rights to produce it as an audio book, you get paid again. And if a publisher in Spain wants to translate it and publish it there?  You get paid again. Also, let’s look at the weasel-wording here:  the author retains the copyright, always, always, always.  If anyone asks you to sign over your copyright, run the fuck away.

What commercial publishers buy is the right to print and sell your book.  So you can get paid.  Go to your bookshelf and pick up a book published by a commercial publisher.  Turn to the title page.  See the copyright line?  Does it say “Copyright <author’s name here>” and the year?  It should.  Why?  Because authors retain their copyrights. I can’t help but feel that Harlequin Horizons is counting on new writers not knowing that, and intentionally helping them to confuse copyright with rights to print and sell.

Okay, I’m done digressing. Last couple of checkpoints:  It’s not clear whether or not Harlequin Horizons owns the ISBN that you “buy” with your package.  I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume the author owns it at that point, but there’s a big ol’ question mark beside it in place of a check mark.

And, since they only print on demand, they’re not housing the completed books. They are, however, largely controlling how information about the books gets sent out to online stores.

Lastly, of course, payment to the author is in the form of a royalty.  Check!  This royalty is, of course, based on net sales, not off of the retail price, as it would be at a commercial publisher.

So, after a very long way to get to it, let’s talk about what those royalties might actually look like, shall we?

I’m going to put the math behind a clicky here, because I know I’m already looking at my own scrollbar and cringing.  So, go refresh your coffee, grab a snack, and click on through for fun with math!

Continue Reading »

In yesterday’s post, I got my rant on about Harlequin Horizons, the new vanity press arm of one of the largest romance publishers in the world.

At that time, Romance Writers of America had made a bold move, declaring that because of this, Harlequin was no longer eligible for the resources granted to publishers at their conventions — if they wanted to participate, they’d have to pay for floor space and signing space, and other kinds of facilities access that helps connect publishers to authors.

Kristin Nelson at Pub Rants posted the response from Harlequin’s CEO last night.  It was, uh.  A wee bit condescending:

It is disappointing that the RWA has not recognized that publishing models have and will continue to change. As a leading publisher of women’s fiction in a rapidly changing environment, Harlequin’s intention is to provide authors access to all publishing opportunities, traditional or otherwise.

That, after a list of ways that Harlequin has financially supported the RWA conferences (sending editors and participating in panels, throwing a party).  As John Scalzi puts it: “you are nothing without us!!!!”  (Go read Scalzi’s post on it.  I’ll wait.

The RWA wasn’t the only group to voice their disapproval of Harlequin’s practices and (here’s the important part, cats n kittens) act upon it.  Mystery Writers of America released a statement yesterday afternoon, objecting to Harlequin Horizons and the eHarlequin Manuscript Critique Service (which is heavily promoted on their forums and website, encouraging aspiring authors to pay someone to edit their manuscript.  Someone, presumably, at Harlequin.)  From the MWA statement:

Mystery Writers of America (MWA) is deeply concerned about the troubling conflict-of-interest issues created by these ventures, particularly the potentially misleading way they are marketed to aspiring writers on the Harlequin website.

It is common for disreputable publishers to try to profit from aspiring writers by steering them to their own for-pay editorial, marketing, and publishing services. The implication is that by paying for those services, the writer is more likely to sell his manuscript to the publisher. Harlequin recommends the “eHarlequin Manuscript Critique Service” in the text of its manuscript submission guidelines for all of its imprints and include a link to “Harlequin Horizons,” its new self-publishing arm, without any indication that these are advertisements.

That, coupled with the fact that these businesses share the Harlequin name, may mislead writers into believing they can enhance their chances of being published by Harlequin by paying for these services. Offering these services violates long-standing MWA rules for inclusion on our Approved Publishers List.

In other words, “Hey, Harlequin, you’re acting like a scam publisher.  Cut it out.”  They’re giving them until December 15th to respond and change the practices.  At that point, if changes aren’t made, books published by Harlequin will not count for writers seeking active membership in the MWA.

Also stepping in: Science Fiction Writers of America.  SFWA didn’t give Harlequin the deadline that MWA did; as of 11/19/09, Harlequin is no longer an approved publisher for authors seeking active memberships in SFWA.

SFWA calls on Harlequin to openly acknowledge that Harlequin Horizon titles will not be distributed to brick-and-mortar bookstores, thus ensuring that the titles will not be breaking into the real fiction market. SFWA also asks that Harlequin acknowledge that the imprint does not represent a genuine opportunity for aspiring authors to hone their skills, as no editor will be vetting or working on the manuscripts. Further, SFWA believes that work published with Harlequin Horizons may injure writing careers by associating authors’ names with small sales levels reflected by the imprint’s lack of distribution, as well as its emphasis upon income received from writers and not readers. SFWA supports the fundamental principle that writers should be paid for their work, and even those who aspire to professional status and payment ought not to be charged for the privilege of having those aspirations.

Their statement is the most blunt of them all so far.  The bolding is mine.  In one paragraph, SFWA states clearly the things that Harlequin Horizons obfuscates in all of their rah-rah-ing.

And, SFWA ups the ante a bit more:

Further, Harlequin should be on notice that while the rules of our annual Nebula Award do not expressly prohibit self-published titles from winning, it is highly unlikely that our membership would ever nominate or vote for a work that was published in this manner.

While the statement refers to the “self-published” Harlequin Horizons titles, I’m pretty sure it’s also saying that regular Harlequin titles are looking like long shots for the Nebula Awards while this is ongoing.

Now, here’s the thing — at the end of their initial chiding response to the RWA, Harlequin makes a tiny concession (again, via Pub Rants):

Most importantly, however, we have heard the concerns that you, our authors, have expressed regarding the potential confusion between this venture and our traditional business. As such, we are changing the name of the self-publishing company from Harlequin Horizons to a designation that will not refer to Harlequin in any way. We will initiate this process immediately. We hope this allays the fears many of you have communicated to us.

Part of the objection — but only part of it — to Harlequin Horizons was the misleading way they were using the Harlequin brand to lure authors in.  See, these writers forking over their money were under the impression that Harlequin was letting them into its exclusive club.  I mean, if you publish through a company called “Harlequin Horizons,” you’d think that’s what it would say on the spine, right?

Wrong.  What they fail to mention is that, once the books are published, Harlequin would distance itself from them.  The books might get the logo on the spine (take a look at it here, while it’s up), but the word Harlequin wouldn’t appear.  But, if you take a look at the cover templates they have, well, gosh-golly, those still look an awful lot like the standard Harlequin series titles. (.pdf link)  I’m pretty sure that cover template #3 there very closely resembles the style of one of the monthly series we carried back in my bookstore days — Harlequin Presents, maybe.

Adding insult to injury if you go read the letter Harlequin sent to its authors over at Jackie Kessler’s blog (read her whole post, it’s brilliant), it reads a lot like, I don’t know, like they’re winking conspiratorially at their authors, saying, “well, you and I know they’re not good enough, but no one has to tell them that.”

Harlequin reassures:

Horizons books will not be distributed by Harlequin. They will not appear in stores next to your book. Self-published books are generally distributed through large online catalogs.

Um, which online catalogs, precisely?  What, a link to a Harlequin Horizons store?  This is not the same as the seasonal catalogs that publishers send out to bookstore buyers.

Horizons books will not have Harlequin branding. Horizons is a separate brand and will carry the double-H Horizons logo on the spine only, NOT the Harlequin brand.

and

Readers will not be confused. Harlequin is the gold standard for romance. Readers purchase Harlequin because they trust Harlequin to provide a great story. There will be no ‘dilution’ of quality. Horizons is a separate imprint with no Harlequin branding.

What’s that about protesting too much?  As Ms. Kessler says:

See the subtle dig here? Harlequin offers top-notch stories…and Horizons isn’t that. So if you choose to go the Horizons route, Harlequin has already said your story isn’t up to par. Despite the “Harlequin” name in Harlequin Horizons, you would not be a Harlequin author. And what’s more, Harlequin itself is saying that if you choose to print your book with Horizons, your story **isn’t good enough to be published by Harlequin.** So rather than encouraging authors to sharpen their skills and become better writers, they’re instead offering a way for aspiring authors to pay to print a story that isn’t ready for prime time. Yes, this is pay to play.

A-frickin’-men.  Harlequin knows exactly what they’re doing here, and they don’t. care.

Even worse, Harlequin’s rejection letters to people who submit manuscripts in hopes of being, y’know, paid for their work and getting a real publishing contract will point those people to Harlequin Horizons.

See how this just gets worse and worse?  Also, they offer the false hope that they’ll actually be watching the sales from Horizons authors.  From the “Our Advantages” page:

However, we understand you may aspire to be published with a traditional house – a noble aspiration. While there is no guarantee that if you publish with Harlequin Horizons you will picked up for traditional publishing, Harlequin will monitor sales of books published through Harlequin Horizons for possible pick-up by its traditional imprints.

Yeah. Sure. Most titles from vanity presses sell less than 200 copies. Most sell less than fifty.

There’s a lot of frilly talk about making dreams and visions and aspirations come true over on the Horizons page.  It turns my stomach.  It’s preying on the hopes of writers who probably don’t know better, and reels ‘em right in.  Harlequin Horizons sounds just like the scam publishers and scam agents out there, and honestly, I can’t see any difference right now.  Even their responses to the criticism read a lot like the weasel-wording you can find when the scammers show up trying to defend themselves on the Absolute Write Bewares and Background Checks forums.

The sheer abuse of trust is what has me the most infuriated here.  Harlequin is a well-known — probably the best known — name in romance publishing, and it’s using that reputation to lure writers into a terrible, terrible deal.  It’s using writers’ hopes and dreams to line its own pockets.

Now, is the information out there for savvy writers to give Harlequin Horizons a wide berth?  Absolutely.  The unfortunate thing is, though, not everyone knows where to look for the information they need to make better decisions for their careers.  It’s very easy, when searching for “how to get published,” to stumble onto the page of a scammer.  And they sound so very, very trustworthy.  I’ve seen two people from Chris’ boards get taken in or nearly so.  Last week my dad called me on behalf of a friend of his, asking if I’d ever heard of a certain publisher that had the friend thinking he’d be stocked in every B&N in the country.  It was a vanity press; I warned him off.

These three people are all pretty smart.  Problem is, they didn’t know the right questions to ask, and even when I said “OH GOD NO RUN AWAY,” they liked what they were being told.  Because it sounds easy.  Because it sounds like you’re going to get all kinds of exposure and help from these places, but when you look at it up close, you’re not getting anything near what they let you think they’re offering.

Have you seen the commercial for Ally Bank with the little girl on the bike?  Here, go peek.  Poor kid, thinks she’s going to go for a spin around the room, but really, she can’t go out of the red lines.  That’s what Harlequin Horizons is doing to people who sign up for their program.

By the by, I know I promised a breakdown of Harlequin Horizon’s  “services,” and you’re still going to get one.  It’s going to be in its own post, though, since I spent this one trying to recap the last 24-hours or so.

Word Count: slacktastic

I mentioned I bought Under the Dome, right?

I have done nothing with my free time since Sunday night but read.

I know, NaNo means shutting yourself off from all distractions — including new books from one of your favorite authors — but y’know?  To hell with that.  The last book that had me this hooked was A Madness of Angels.  I’ll get a review up here when I’ve finished it, but for now, it’s safe to say I’m loving the hell out of this book.

Interesting things happening in the world o’publishing this week.  Harlequin announced Harlequin Horizons, which is essentially their own shiny new vanity press line. There’s a huge caveat emptor here, cats n kittens.  Settle in while I go exploring!

Also, for the record, I think it’s very interesting that they’re launching this during NaNoWriMo.  How many people with books that are nowhere near ready for publication are going to get hooked in by this?

There’s been plenty of discussion amongst romance writers and on romance blogs.  Check out Smart Bitches, Dear Author, and Writer Beware.  Romance Writers of America has declared that with the advent of Harlequin Horizons, Harlequin itself (as in, its “traditional” publishing arm), “no longer meets the requirements to be eligible for RWA-provided conference resources.”  Which means that sure, they can attend RWA conventions, but now they have to pay for rooms for their authors to use for signings, and will not be able to use the resources the RWA provides to eligible publishers to promote their company.

What does this mean?  In short, that adding a vanity/subsidy arm to their business is not good for the brand or its authors, and that it’s not the sweet deal it seems to be at first glance.

Go get a cup of coffee.  This picking-apart may take a while.  Continue Reading »

(Update: B&N has responded, both on Smart Bitches and to Galleycat.

Joe Gonnella, the VP of trade merchandising, responded on SBTB’s comments thread:

Barnes & Noble does not have a policy to boycott books because authors don’t link to us.

Everything is bought in anticipation of in store or online customer orders.

We do encourage authors and publishers to link to our website as part of a comprehensive marketing approach to drive sales in all channels.

I would be happy to address any specific concerns that are out there!

And to Galleycat via Twitter:

@GalleyCat We love author links. We ask for links. And we want them to be “fair.” But we don’t do that is suggested here.

So, good to know that it’s not required.  I’m going with my guess that whoever sent the request to authors from the publisher used strong wording to get authors to act.  If anything else comes up, I’ll update more.)

Look!  More wtf-ery, this time from Barnes & Noble.

The Smart Bitches received word from their publisher that if they didn’t have a link to B&N on their site, B&N wouldn’t order their books.  Other authors confirmed it in the comments.

Like they said, would it have killed B&N to ask rather than threaten?

Though, let’s also keep in mind that the request came through their publishers — it’s possible that the B&N wording was a bit more subdued than what authors received from whoever sent it out at their house:

One of our major accounts is now checking author websites, and is REFUSING to put in an order if their site is not listed as a place to go to buy….

The particular account is B&N, but we anticipate that in the future more sellers will have this requirement….

Please do this ASAP…. I’m not exaggerating when I say they WILL NOT ORDER the book unless their site is listed.

I don’t know if that came from an editor, an editorial assistant, someone in marketing, or what, but it sounds extremely dire.  Which, believe me, things can get kind of apocalyptic when one of the big chains says “OMG DO THIS NOW BECAUSE WE SAID SO.”

No matter how you look at it, though, it sucks.  Whether they asked or threatened, a major bookseller is dictating what content should go on authors’ websites.

Galleycat’s asking a good question in their post about this:

The deeper question, it seems to us, is: How much influence should one vendor—any vendor—exert over the marketing plans of authors and publishers? Are we being naively idealistic, or does that kind of hardball tactic from a bookseller cross the line?

Looking at it from a business perspective, I can see why B&N would want to be sure they’re represented on authors’ sites.  So many people just slap up a link to Amazon and call it a day. They don’t link to B&N, they don’t link to Borders, they don’t link to IndieBound or their own local bookstores.  That Amazon has become the default online bookstore is disappointing all on its own.

So are they within their rights to go to publishers and say “Hey, could you please ask your authors to link to us in addition to Amazon and other online bookstores?”  Absolutely.

But to say “If you don’t comply, we’re not ordering your books, period, the end” is throwing their weight around just like Amazon’s doing.

This should have been an opportunity for B&N to rise above Amazon’s tactics, to be supportive of authors and publishers alike.  There’s that whole catching more flies with honey thing.  Ask nicely.  Don’t throw out ultimatums.  Go to the publishers with numbers:  “Here’s what sales look like for Author A who doesn’t link to us.  Here’s Author B (someone comparable, from the same genre and with similar average in-store sales) that does.  Look at how much better Author B’s sales are through B&N.com because of it.”

Here’s the thing: authors want their books to be in bookstores.  You can all pick yourselves up from the floor now.  I apologize for the shocking revelation.  I realize that if I ever get published, some agent or editor’s probably going to be /facepalming at me for calling Amazon out here.  Because, guess what?  If I get published, I’m going to want them to carry my book.  Because I want people to read it.  But if they come to me and say I have to put a big huge “I love Amazon” banner at the top of my blog and link to them and them alone, it’s going to be an interesting conversation, to say the least.

Because, here’s the other thing (hold onto your chairs, cats n kittens): authors don’t like being bullied. It’s not a good feeling, whether it’s the big kid in your first grade classroom or whether it’s the big bookseller on the block.  Someone is telling you “You will do this,” and they’re taking away your ability to say “No, I don’t think I will.”

It’s so much easier, so much more pleasant, to work with someone.  A store comes along and says to an author “Hey, I think if we do this thing here, we can sell more of your books.  What do you think?”  With very, very few exceptions, the author’s going to say “Oh hell yes!  What can I do to help?”

So why not just ask?  Why threaten dire consequences if the author doesn’t comply?

Someone in the Galleycat comments thread mentioned that some indies have also threatened the same, long before this came out:  link to IndieBound or we won’t stock your books. It’s no more excusable with a small bookstore than it is with the behemoths.

(Updating to note: The Galleycat poster didn’t back up the comment with a source, so (and thanks to IndieBound’s Paige for calling me out on this in the comments) remember that this isn’t something all indies are doing.  It’s maybe a handful, and they don’t represent all independent bookstores everywhere.  The following paragraphs are not intended as a scolding, more of my musing on an opportunity.  I’ve reworked it a bit, so I hope it better represents that. )

This is every bit as much a chance for independent booksellers to win authors over to their side — hell, it’s even more of one.  If people brush off what Amazon and B&N are doing as a privilege of their success/market share, then this is where independent booksellers shine.

They work with the authors.  They can show them the benefits of independent bookstores and their communities, and the idea of linking to IndieBound isn’t a chore or something you feel forced to do — it’s appealing.  It’s a mutually beneficial experience.

(This is the part where I put on my If I Ran a Bookstore Hat)

If I ran a bookstore, I’d set aside a page on the store’s site highlighting authors who linked to either IndieBound or Books That Don’t Suck.  At some certain interval — maybe once or twice a month, maybe weekly, depending on the response — the site would feature one of those authors’ books on the front page.  It would take a bit of audience participation to make it more than just a random cover image, of course.  In a rose-colored world I’d be able to post something from the author to go along with it:  a Q&A, a blurb on how awesome they think indie bookstores are, etc.

Would it take some coordinating?  Yes.  And there are plenty of authors out there who just plain don’t have ten minutes to do an email interview.  I wouldn’t necessarily expect to get, say, Stephen King on board,* but hey, reach for the stars, right?  And hey, why not promote a new author who’s trying to grow his or her readership?  Thanks to the interwebs, it’s easier for authors to connect with their fans.  This is another way they could do that.

There are times I feel like the bookselling community — which includes not just booksellers, but publishers, authors and readers, too — forgets that whole being a community thing.  So many opportunities out there to work with one another and get some really wonderful books into the hands of eager readers, and we spend all this time working against that.  There has to be a better way.

*Though, he did a coast-to-coast tour of indies when Insomnia came out, so you never know…

(via Gawker’s review of Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol, which I won’t be reading):

[...]and you can buy the electric Amazon Game Boy version of the book for a mere ten dollars!

/gigglesnort

Neil Gaiman had a very interesting tweet this afternoon:

RT @librarythingtim: RT @bookpatrol Borders employees now have to sign a non-blogging contract? http://ow.ly/ijSr

Which points you to A.J. Kohn’s used books blog, where some of Borders’ more ill-thought-out practices have also been discussed (including by employees), including its “make books” plan.

Let’s talk about the make books plan a moment, shall we?  I intended to blog about it when the news first broke, but well, you all know which road is paved with good intentions.  From the article:

In January, soon after CEO Ron Marshall was hired, Borders began an independent-style strategy on a superstore scale. With thousands of titles from which to choose, the idea was to select a few works favored by Borders national sales officials and promote them nationwide in the spirit of a local seller, from prominent placement to personally advocating (“hand-selling”) books in the stores.

If you’re a bookseller, you’re probably wtfing right now.  If you’re not, get ready to.  Here’s how handselling works:  you read a book.  You really like it.  A customer comes in and says “Help me find a good book.”  While you talk to them and figure out what kind of books they like to read, you realize that the book you really liked is one they’d also enjoy.  So you tell them about it.  You go over and get a copy off the shelf, and put it in their hands so they can flip through, read a few pages, decide whether or not to take it home with them.

When you’re handselling, you’re an advocate for the books you love.  You’re so passionate about this title, this author, this series, that you want everyone you know (and lots of people you don’t) to read it.

You are not shilling a book because corporate headquarters said so.  You’re not doing it because someone high up decided to make a book a bestseller, and you’re damned well not doing it because you can get in trouble if you don’t meet quota.

Borders employees were, understandably, vexed.

In statements to Publishers Lunch, Border’s spokesperson Anne Roman seems to be suggesting that the people who are upset are suffering from a case of sour grapes:

Roman observes that “some employees–and maybe this is more common among intelligent, highly educated and independent-minded people–do not like being asked to recommend certain titles–they want only to share their own personal favorites. We find that attitude to be less than helpful to our customers as our buyers have pinpointed great titles and we know that our customers count on us for guidance. Believe me, none of our customers has complained because a sales associate recommended a great title–make book or otherwise…. My feeling is that out of 25,000 employees, these comments represent a very small minority who resist the idea of being asked to recommend a certain title because they believe only their personal recommendations are valid. We obviously disagree, and judging by sales trends, so do our customers.”

Only want to share personal favorites?  Oh, come on, now.  The point of handselling is to share your favorites. Suggesting that those employees only believe “their personal recommendations are valid” is equally insulting.  That’s not what the employees were saying at all.

Look at their comments on the Used Books Blog (scroll waaaay down to May 5th, 2009.)  Look at the comments on the PW thread.

What the upset Borders employees are saying — and what’s intuitive to anyone who, y’know, gets handselling — is that you can’t put a quota on handselling.  You can’t push books that you didn’t particularly care for and call it handselling.

If Borders sent ARCs out to the employees and said “Our buyers thought this was great, and we hope you’ll give it a try,” that’s okay. That’s great, as a matter of fact.

But where they go horribly, horribly wrong, is saying “Our buyers thought it was great, and because of that, you need to suggest it to customers.”

That’s not handselling anymore.  If Borders wanted to run a promotion highlighting certain titles — call it whatever the hell you want, “Borders Recommends,” “Featured Titles,” “Oh Hey, We’d Like This to Be a Bestseller, How About Buying a Copy?” — there’s nothing wrong with that.  But to suggest that what they’re doing is handselling is deceitful.

And now the non-blogging contract.  So, rather than giving the employees another place where they might, y’know, say “Hey internets, I read this really great book,” they’re taking that away, too.  Seems like it covers all kinds of social media, too:  facebook, twitter… what about book sites like Goodreads, Shelfari, and Librarything?

Bitching about one’s company or coworkers in a blog is a pretty bad idea.  You never know who’s reading it, and what might get passed along to your boss.  Employees who leak information that’s supposed to be confidential do so at their own risk.  Employees who say nothing but negative things might find their bosses asking “Why are you here, if you hate it so much?”  A bit of self-editing is a good thing to learn.

However, it floors me that a company that sells books — who, you’d think, would defend free speech — is effectively censoring the people who work there.

You know the drill by now, kids.  Go show your local independent bookstores some love.  See what true handselling’s all about.  Check out stores’ websites.  Read some excellent booksellers’ blogs.

From the “how the hell is this a surprise to you” files:

A British company (BDO Stoy Hayward) found that 71% of consumers, on encountering bad service, would go elsewhere.

/gasp
/shock
/fans self

From the article, BDO Stoy Hayward’s Don Williams says:

Retailers should be frightened by the fact 74 per cent of their customers would leave the store if they encountered bad service. In the current environment, this is something that they just cannot afford to ignore.

Pardon me while I boggle a moment.

How is this not… intuitive?  Are there really business owners out there thinking “Well, if I hire snide people, never tidy up the store, and treat my customers like dirt, EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE”?

The article suggests that these “hypersensitive buyers” are a product of the current economic environment.  It doesn’t (at least in this article) provide the percentage of people who would have taken their business elsewhere back when things were booming.  I have a hard time imagining that, when people had money to throw around, they were more willing to be abused by salespeople than they are today.

Calling people that expect good service hypersensitive is insulting.  Customer service — excellent customer service — should be one of the highest priorities of any business.

Now, I’ve never worked in retail outside of the bookstore, and customer service is, y’know, A Thing for independent bookstores.  Is this not the case in the wider world of retail?

From Booksmith, I went to work for a publisher with one of the best CS departments in the industry, and, while I moved to a different position within the company nigh on eight years ago, 90% of my current job is still steeped in providing excellent customer service.

So, I dunno, help me wrap my head around this article — how is this news?  Is the rest of the retail world only just now going “Oh, shit, we should probably be nice to the people who shop with us?”  Somehow, I doubt that.  Filler piece?  Fluff?  Things done differently in the UK, as the first commenter suggests?

“Provide excellent customer service” just sounds like “Hey, don’t forget to breathe.”

And if, as a retailer, you need to be reminded of this, darlin’, you’re in the wrong damned business.

So, there’s this new website, “The Society for Geek Advancement.”  They made a video.  How cute!  In it, a smattering of geeky icons (Wil Wheaton, LeVar Burton, and Jonathan Coulton among them) proudly declare their love for geeky things alongside some people who… I don’t know.  They’re pretty, and they use Twitter and Macs, so hey, they can be geeks too!

Are you wtfing at your screen, too?

Yeah.  A bunch of people did.  Wil Wheaton got a bunch of backlash for it, and mused a bit about how the project had morphed from what he’d originally understood it to be.  It really does seem like some kind of marketing ploy.  All through the video (I typed ad, originally, that’s how much it feels like one), I expected to see some sort of  “GO BUY THIS NAO” at every new celebrity.

There is apparently a purpose to it, though it’s not all that evident on the site.  The creator, Shira Lazar, wanted people to use social media for good causes and to make a difference.  Proceeds from sales of “I Am A Geek” t-shirts go to Room to Read, which, hey, reading and education is an excellent choice, made even more awesome by the fundraiser they threw benefitting six girls.

However, it still seems to sneer a bit at things that are, traditionally, pretty geeky — Wheaton declares that he doesn’t speak Klingon.  Someone else burbles proudly that they don’t play Dungeons & Dragons.

…wtf?

Now, in his defense, Wil says he meant the Klingon thing as inclusive, in a sense:  “Geeks don’t have to speak Klingon.” Which, okay, I’ll give him.  I’m guessing it’s one of those things where, the meaning of it was clear to him, but when it comes out in a two-second sound bite makes the ones who are fluent in Klingon boggle.

Bridget McGovern at Tor sums it up perfectly.  Go read the whole article, but let me quote my favorite part:

One of the greatest strengths of geek culture is its remarkable inclusivity, its creativity, its ability to encompass and combine disparate ideas, modes of thoughts, and areas of interest without having to worry about keeping up appearances or maintaining the conventional status quo. To be so dismissive of traditionally maligned geek interests and so incredibly smug about our apparent technological superiority at the same time doesn’t celebrate geek culture—it’s just a cheap way of buying up some nice property in the mainstream, at the expense of the quirks, the playfulness, and the ability to be comfortable being different that is the essence of geekdom.

If there is one stereotype we should be moving away from, it’s the geekier-than-thou, Comic Book Guy-style sense of smirking superiority that only serves to alienate individuals from one another within and without the community. The creators of the SGA seem to think the best way to empower geeks is to ditch the nerdy comic books, hand the Guy an iPhone and a Twitter account, and make him over into an Ashton Kutcher clone, while retaining the obnoxious, supercilious attitude. This plan has the stink of a bad 80s movie all over it, and as someone who’s seen Can’t Buy Me Love more than a few times, let me tell you—it doesn’t work, my friends.

That.  Right there.

I know it goes against the idea of geekery-as-inclusive when I want to shout “YOU ARE NOT A GEEK” at so many of the participants in that video.  But I dunno, I get the sense that more than a few of them would be quick to sneer at con-goers, WoW players, tabletop roleplayers, and members of the SCA.

Hooray for you — you have a popular blog, you have a million followers on Twitter, you played Guitar Hero that one time and it didn’t totally suck.  Sometimes you forward LOLcats to your friends, and you even went to see the new Star Trek/Spiderman/Terminator flick!

I’m all for geekery going mainstream.  Hey, that means that more of the things I like might get the recognition they deserve!  More sf/f books?  More shows like Firefly, Lost and Fringe?  Kings getting put back on the air?  Hell. Fucking. Yes.

But if the idea is for sleek marketing people to redefine what makes a geek, make it hip and cool, pretty it up by taking away certain elements so the Cool Kids can still have people to snicker at, then count me the hell out.

Don’t worry, I won’t spoil last night’s Lost in this post, but I will be alluding to things that have happened this season.  So, if you’re more than a month or two behind, you might want to click away.

Good?

Good.

Hokay.  So, a bunch of our favorite Losties are stuck back in 1977, hiding within the Dharma Initiative and trying not to be discovered.  It’s a neat plotline, and I’m enjoying it.

That said, I have a hard time buying Jack and Hurley’s (but especially Jack’s) inability to grasp what Miles and Daniel keep telling them:  you can die here. This is our present.

I don’t know, maybe it’s all the science fiction I’ve devoured over the years, but I have to say that if I found myself suddenly yoinked backwards in time I’d be damned careful with everything I did, and not just for fear of stepping on a butterfly.

Actually, Jack and crew don’t even have to worry about the whole Sound of Thunder thing.  So far, the rules of the Lostverse say you can tramp on all the butterflies you want — if you do it, that’s because they’re supposed to get flattened, not because you changed the timeline.  You were always supposed to be there, in that place and time to smushy smushy — even if you “belong” thirty years in the future.

What they do have to worry about, what Miles and Daniel get and they seem to deny, is that “dun sweat the flutterbies” also means “if you’re supposed to die here and now, guess what.  Buh-bye.”  Because time, for them, is linear.  They might have seen Richard Alpert and Ben Linus all grownsed up in good ol’ 2007, so sure, you probably can’t kill them (sorry, Sayid), but unless you’ve also jumped ahead during the Island’s version of Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego? and, say, saw yourself in 2015, there are no guarantees.

But every time Jack does something risky, he’s all “I CAN’T DIE LOL,” and I want to shake him.  I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say that it finally managed to worm its way into his skull last night, but good lord, it took, what, six episodes now?

I find it hard to believe that Jack can’t grasp the concept.  He’s a smart guy.  Hell, Hurley has at least some kind of understanding of it, latching onto the rules of the Back to the Future universe to explain things.

So is Jack in denial?  Is he just that thick?  Or is it that easy for me because I’ve read this stuff so many times, and seen it in so many movies and TV shows (hell, how many times in the last few seasons has the concept factored into Doctor Who?) — does the average viewer, for whom Lost is pretty much their first (only?) foray into sf, need a few extra episodes to catch on, and Jack acts as their everyman?

I’ll answer that last one, but I’d love to hear it if you have a differing opinion.  Suggesting that non-sf fans aren’t going to be able to grok the rules is silly.  Look at all the twists and turns this show has taken over four seasons.  If you can keep straight in your mind what’s present-day and what’s past,* you are definitely smart enough to wrap your mind around the rules of time-travel in the Lostverse.

Which means, my conclusion leans towards “Jack is just that thick,” or, possibly, Poor Writing.  I really, really liked last night’s episode, so I’m loathe to suggest that, but, hrm.  Looking at Season 5 over at Lostpedia, I can see that the last few episodes were all done by different writing teams.  Is it possible that each of them wanted their shot at writing the “Yes, we can die” dialogues, or that some of them felt it was important and others didn’t even touch upon it?  I don’t know nearly enough about screenwriting, especially for a project like Lost, to venture a decent guess.

Thoughts?

*or, in season 3, what’s present-day and what’s future