The Writer's Predicament
I was telling you about my efforts to get the rights to my first three books back from the formidable Penguin Group, efforts which have been unsuccessful so far. But at least they made an offer. Like I said, they offered to sell the rights back to me for $32,000. I did a present value calculation based on Penguin’s royalty statements and their balance sheet and made a counter-offer. It was far, far less than $32,000. It was less than $2,000.
That was two months ago. We have yet to hear back from Penguin. It doesn’t surprise me, though, because everything they do seems to take at least two months. It has always taken them two months to send me a contract when we’ve agreed to a deal. It has taken them two months to write and mail a check to me after I’ve signed the contracts and sent them back. It takes them two months to get a royalty statement out after their accounting period ends. It takes them anywhere from six to eighteen months to publish a novel after the final manuscript is approved. Anyone who has ever had an agent submit a manuscript to an editor at a big publishing house knows that it takes them two months to read it.
The people who work at Penguin and the other big houses — especially the publishers and executives and editors — are very, very important, you see. They’re very, very busy. They must be. What other explanation could there be for them taking two months to answer a letter, read a manuscript, write a check, send out a contract? What other explanation could there be for them taking six to eighteen months to publish a manuscript? Have I mentioned that the publishing industry (the Big Six, anyway) basically shuts down twice a year for a month at a time — from August 1 to September 1 and from early December to mid-January — so everyone can go on vacation? The publishers, the executives, the editors, the agents, they all take at least two months off each year. They go to exotic places. They put their email services and their cell phones on auto pilot. They must need down time from all that important stuff they do. They must need a break from the book fairs in exotic locales, they must need a break from all the corporate conferences, they must need a break from all the cocktail parties. They must need a break from all those events they attend where they tell each other how very, very important they are and how very, very busy they are.
It’s no wonder the traditional publishing industry is swirling in the bowl. They’re inefficient, self-important, and they’ve been taking advantage of both their authors and their customers for a hundred years. Amazon is kicking their butts, and they deserve it.
I love Amazon. They offer books to their readers (except those published by the big, traditional publishers who are now being sued by the Justice Department for price fixing) at a reasonable price. They pay authors an excellent royalty. They can deliver a book to you in the comfort of your own home in less than two minutes. They’ve continued to upgrade the Kindle and they sell it for a reasonable price. Amazon, as far as I’m concerned, is a shining light in free market economics.
I don’t work for Amazon and I have absolutely no interest in promoting them. I’m just telling the truth. Amazon is going to do the same thing to big publishing houses that digital music did to big record companies. Big corporate bookstores like Barnes and Noble and Books a Million? Remember the big corporate music stores? The big corporate book stores will be gone. Initially, they will be replaced by niche used bookstores, which will eventually be replaced by niche corporate book stores like Mr. K’s. Eventually, Amazon will become so profitable (if they aren’t already) that greedy shareholders will prevent them from doing what they’ve done to this point.
But they’ve let the cat out of the bag, and I, for one, am glad. Where do I fit in all of this? Hell, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going to keep writing stories. I’m going to keep trying to get better and I’m going to sell my work for a reasonable price. I feel like a yoke has been thrown off my shoulders, and my hope is that people like you will like my work enough to buy it at that reasonable price. Because if guys like me can make a decent living writing, then the Penguins of the world will die off and stay in their graves. The result of that will be that there will be more stories for you to choose from, and you’ll be able to read them without feeling like you’ve been shafted.
That was two months ago. We have yet to hear back from Penguin. It doesn’t surprise me, though, because everything they do seems to take at least two months. It has always taken them two months to send me a contract when we’ve agreed to a deal. It has taken them two months to write and mail a check to me after I’ve signed the contracts and sent them back. It takes them two months to get a royalty statement out after their accounting period ends. It takes them anywhere from six to eighteen months to publish a novel after the final manuscript is approved. Anyone who has ever had an agent submit a manuscript to an editor at a big publishing house knows that it takes them two months to read it.
The people who work at Penguin and the other big houses — especially the publishers and executives and editors — are very, very important, you see. They’re very, very busy. They must be. What other explanation could there be for them taking two months to answer a letter, read a manuscript, write a check, send out a contract? What other explanation could there be for them taking six to eighteen months to publish a manuscript? Have I mentioned that the publishing industry (the Big Six, anyway) basically shuts down twice a year for a month at a time — from August 1 to September 1 and from early December to mid-January — so everyone can go on vacation? The publishers, the executives, the editors, the agents, they all take at least two months off each year. They go to exotic places. They put their email services and their cell phones on auto pilot. They must need down time from all that important stuff they do. They must need a break from the book fairs in exotic locales, they must need a break from all the corporate conferences, they must need a break from all the cocktail parties. They must need a break from all those events they attend where they tell each other how very, very important they are and how very, very busy they are.
It’s no wonder the traditional publishing industry is swirling in the bowl. They’re inefficient, self-important, and they’ve been taking advantage of both their authors and their customers for a hundred years. Amazon is kicking their butts, and they deserve it.
I love Amazon. They offer books to their readers (except those published by the big, traditional publishers who are now being sued by the Justice Department for price fixing) at a reasonable price. They pay authors an excellent royalty. They can deliver a book to you in the comfort of your own home in less than two minutes. They’ve continued to upgrade the Kindle and they sell it for a reasonable price. Amazon, as far as I’m concerned, is a shining light in free market economics.
I don’t work for Amazon and I have absolutely no interest in promoting them. I’m just telling the truth. Amazon is going to do the same thing to big publishing houses that digital music did to big record companies. Big corporate bookstores like Barnes and Noble and Books a Million? Remember the big corporate music stores? The big corporate book stores will be gone. Initially, they will be replaced by niche used bookstores, which will eventually be replaced by niche corporate book stores like Mr. K’s. Eventually, Amazon will become so profitable (if they aren’t already) that greedy shareholders will prevent them from doing what they’ve done to this point.
But they’ve let the cat out of the bag, and I, for one, am glad. Where do I fit in all of this? Hell, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going to keep writing stories. I’m going to keep trying to get better and I’m going to sell my work for a reasonable price. I feel like a yoke has been thrown off my shoulders, and my hope is that people like you will like my work enough to buy it at that reasonable price. Because if guys like me can make a decent living writing, then the Penguins of the world will die off and stay in their graves. The result of that will be that there will be more stories for you to choose from, and you’ll be able to read them without feeling like you’ve been shafted.
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