Got your attention?
I’m a writer. How could I possibly, truthfully express the sentiment in that headline? Well, let me tell you a story…
My mother is an avid reader, mostly of thrillers and mysteries, and she had a number of bookshelves, stocked with her favorites from over the years. Recently, she had the carpet replaced in her home and, rather than going to the trouble of reshelving most of those books when the new carpet was in and she could return her furniture to the rooms, she decided to sell the majority of those books to a used book store.
About three years ago, she made the reluctant plunge to ebooks. I say reluctant because she didn’t think she’d stick with it initially. Now, you’d have to pry her kindle from her cold, dead fingers. She’s discovered dozens of Indie authors (it helped that her son is one of them) and spends far, far less money on reading material than she used to, all the while enjoying the activity just as much as she ever did, perhaps more.
The paper books from her dusty shelves, which included pristine, hardback copies of Tom Clancy, Clive Cussler, and Jonathan Kellerman best sellers, didn’t hold the nostalgic value they once had. She had no interest in rereading them, so it made sense to take them to a used book store and get a few bucks for them.
Billings, Montana isn’t a huge town by most standards, but we have a number of used book stores. We stopped by one on our way to lunch, thinking to drop the books off, quickly collect a few dollars, and hopefully pay for our meal with the “windfall.” Our visit was indeed quick, but not for the reason we supposed.
“We’re not buying any books,” the clerk explained. “In fact, we’re having a big sale right now to try to pare down our inventory.”
Hm. Okay. No big deal, we thought. We’ll just try another store.
We accumulated strikes two and three faster than Casey from the Mudville Nine.
Resigned to not being able to pay for our lunch, we visited the library after we’d eaten, seeking to donate the books.
“Could you bring them by when we have our big book sale in the winter?” the lady at the front desk asked. “We really wouldn’t have any place to store them until then.”
The library doesn’t want books? It’s not like these were outdated software manuals. Tom freaking Clancy!
We ended up dropping them off at our local GoodWill. The attendant took them with a slight frown on her face.
Being a relatively well informed writer who’s steeped in ebooks, I knew the digital world has been gaining ground on the world of dead trees, but this experience really drove the point home. I remember buying and trading used books as a kid — and as an adult — for many years. Proprietors were always happy to see me come in with a box of books, because they knew I’d be trading them for more reading material and they’d generate some churn in their inventory. Now? Those stores wouldn’t even take books in trade, because their shelves were already packed to overflowing.
And people wonder why the big publishers are doing everything they can to keep ebook prices as high as possible. Their businesses are built on paper. When anyone can publish a book in electronic form and have it appear on the virtual shelves of the largest bookseller on the planet, right next to Tom freaking Clancy, where is the incentive to spend years playing the agent-to-acquisition-to-publication lottery? Especially when the payout for that particular lottery is getting smaller and smaller with each passing day.
Before long, paper books will be a novelty item, only sought out by collectors, much like vinyl records are today. Vinyl aficionados claim digital is too clean. They like to hear the hisses and pops that records produce. I suspect the same sort of folks probably like ink smudges on their fingers from printed pages as well.
Personally, words carry the same impact for me, whether displayed on a screen or paper. A good story carries me off to another world, regardless of the medium in which it’s presented.
Books are worth much more than mere paper and ink.
Hey everyone! I’m over on the Emblazoners blog today, wondering what the heck a snip is…
If there’s one thing that Amazon’s better at than selling books, it might be stirring up controversy.
For those who don’t know, last year, Amazon unveiled a subscription reading service called Kindle Unlimited (KU). For a monthly fee of $9.99, users can download and read as many books as they want, ten at a time. Once you “return” one of those ten borrowed books/stories, you can download another. For voracious readers, the service is a godsend, saving them tens, or even hundreds, of dollars a month on books, depending on their reading habits.
But, where does the author stand on this? While I do have a book that is available for free, it wouldn’t make any sense for me to have all my books available for free. Call me old fashioned, but I’m rather fond of eating and having a roof over my head.
In order for Amazon, or any other subscription service, to have content available to the consumers, they must compensate the content provider in some way. Initially, Amazon chose to utilize a system where, if a reader downloaded and read a book up to a certain point (10% of the text), they paid the author a portion of a substantial “pot” of money each month. That piece of the pot (which started out around $2 and eventually landed in the area of $1.37) was the same for each qualifying download, regardless of length. A short story received the same slice as an epic doorstop.
Naturally, many authors saw this as an opportunity to put out tons of shorter works, be they single short stories or novels transformed into serials. Less reputable folks uploaded short Wikipedia articles and ridiculous non-fiction “books” to take advantage of the 10% payout trigger. Readers began to complain about having a hard time finding something of quality to read. Longer form authors complained about not being compensated fairly.
Now, Amazon has upset the KU apple cart and updated the payout system to a slice of the pot for each page read. Length of the whole work no longer matters. Authors get paid for engagement. If the doorstopper-writer loses the interest of the reader after 20 pages, they earn the same amount as the short story-writer whose 20-page work is read clear through.
Understandably, short form writers are upset by this change. To earn the same $1.37 they got before from one download read to 10%, they have to accumulate approximately 240 pages read — according to the best guess at the pot slice we have at the moment which is $0.0057, or a little over half a cent per page. Novel writers will get paid more than the previous $1.37 if their book gets read all the way through. Writers will now be rewarded for reader engagement.
To all those up in arms about the change, let’s step back and look at the music industry.
Say you hear a song on the radio and decide to purchase it. You see that the artist has a number of other songs available as well. (Us old folks used to call those “albums”) You certainly wouldn’t expect to purchase all the songs for the same price as the one, right?
“Okay,” you say. “But purchasing is different from renting or streaming.”
You’re right, it is. So, let’s look at how artists get compensated for streamed songs.
Spotify is currently paying approximately $0.006 per play (sound familiar?) according Spotify (the artists get much less than that depending on the contract with their label, much like traditionally published authors are paid a small fraction of the money earned from a book). We can argue about whether the number itself is fair or not, but how does this model apply to books?
Think of a page read as a song play. If the listener/reader likes what you have to offer, they’ll listen again (i.e. read more). Then they get to the end of the chapter, or the short story, and think, “Man, this is really good! What happens next?” Just like if you’ve listened to a particular song from an artist a few times and wonder what else they might have available. That performer has made a fan out of you. Our books have the opportunity to do the same thing for readers. If we catch their eyes and engage them with interesting characters and plot, they will come back for more.
Many of you authors out there are probably still not convinced, so let’s look at it from one more angle. Everyone in the equation has to be compensated somehow. Namely, the readers (who get content to consume), the authors (who provide the content to read), and the platform (who creates the method of getting the content to the consumers). Spotify and Amazon have chosen to be compensated directly from the end consumers in the form of a subscription fee and they, in turn, compensate the artists/authors for product consumed.
Another company, YouTube, has taken a different approach. They provide all their content for free, but compensate themselves and the artists through advertising. Imagine if Amazon went this route. Would you want your book to be interrupted every 20 pages by an ad? As a reader, I know I wouldn’t put up with that for very long, even if it was free for me. Take a look at this brilliant info graphic, at the bottom of this article from the Guardian, to see how many more views/listens a song has to have on YouTube for an equal level of payout from the streaming services. It’s quite eye-opening.
What does this all mean? I think subscription services are here to stay. Spotify and Netflix are popular with consumers. The battleground is content and how much to pay those content providers. Scribd’s model for books, while attractive to authors and publishers, is clearly flawed as we’ve seen with them eliminating much of their most-read content this past week. We are only guessing at Amazon’s payout at this point in time. We won’t know what the actual number is until mid-August and the number will undoubtedly fluctuate over the next several months and settle at a point that Amazon is comfortable with. Whether authors will be comfortable with it remains to be seen, but books are only locked into the program for 90 days. If you aren’t happy with what you are seeing, drop out and try other avenues.
I have one series in KU and one not. I’m looking forward to see the dynamics of how all this plays out through the rest of the year. In the meantime, I need to get busy writing. This next book isn’t going to finish itself!
Please let me know your thoughts on KU, Spotify, how much authors and musicians deserve to be paid, or anything else that comes to mind in the comments.
I stumbled upon an airing of Starman this weekend on one of the movie channels and sat down to indulge in a bit of nostalgia. I was shocked to realize this movie came out in 1984, during the middle of my sophomore year in college. It was an instant favorite and had many lines my friends and I repeated to each other for months afterward. Jeff Bridges was amazing and I had a serious crush on Karen Allen. (Kids, think Emma Stone, but not as prolific)
As I watched, with my bowl of microwave popcorn, I enjoyed the reminiscence, but was also struck by some things that were missing. Chief among these were cell phones and the Internet. These items are so ubiquitous today that it’s shocking to think of a time when they weren’t part of our everyday lives.
1984. That’s just over 30 years ago. The first cell phones (analog) were introduced in the US in 1983 and calling them “mobile” was a stretch of the word. It wasn’t until the mid-nineties that the devices really became practical for the average consumer. The Internet didn’t become something used by anyone other than scientists and other academicians until the late eighties and early nineties. Boundless information has only been available to us at the touch of a few keystrokes, or the swipe of a screen, for a little over 20 years.
My two daughters, born in 1990 and 1995, have never known a world without cell phones and the Internet, just as my generation never knew a world without television. And my parents never knew a world without radio. What revolutionary piece of technology is in its infancy today that my grandchildren will grow up never knowing a world without?
Sometimes it’s hard to remember (or conceive for those my daughters’ age) a time when communication and information weren’t instantly available to us. My childhood would have been vastly different had I grown up today, as opposed to 30 years ago. The technology has become an integral part of our lives.
A few weeks ago, a storm blew through and knocked out power in my neighborhood for several hours.
I had no idea what to do with myself.
Eventually, I decided to be somewhat productive and use the time to make a trip to the store I’d been putting off (I’m certain grocery shopping exists as a form of torture in one of the mid-to-lower levels of Hell). I grabbed my shopping list and hopped in the car, soon after looking for a parking place in the asphalt behemoth outside my nearby Wally-world. After finding a spot, I strode to the store entrance, only to find a handful of people milling about with bewildered looks on their faces. I walked past them and almost ran into the automatic door that refused to open at my approach. It was only then I noticed the hastily written sign taped to the door: “Closed. No power.”
The bastion of all things retail had been shuttered by a lack of electricity.
The simple act of buying and selling could not be performed without computers and the Internet.
And, more importantly, I couldn’t restock my cupboard with cheese puffs.
This got me to thinking, after I got my breathing under control — no cheese puffs! — what would people do if the whole grid suddenly went down with no hope for speedy recovery? How would my daughters cope without texting, Instagram, and Snapchat?
Technology helps us in countless ways, makes our lives easier and richer, but we don’t often consider just how fragile the whole system is. Approximately 1,100 satellites orbit the Earth, governing everything from basic GPS to nearly all our communications, including television, cell phones, and the Internet. The basic structure of the power grid in the US uses elements that were first developed in the fifties and sixties and haven’t been significantly updated since that time. A catastrophic event, either in space, such as a giant solar flare, or widespread weather disaster, could render huge sections of the country without power or communications for days or even weeks, depending on the severity of the catalyst. Would we be able to manage life without these things we deem essential nowadays like our phones and computers? What about light and heat?
Of course, part of my preoccupation with these ideas is a kernel for a new story I’m working on, but I’m curious to hear what you think. Could you survive without your electronic devices for an extended period of time? What would you do? How would you live? Would you enjoy living “off the grid” or would it drive you crazy?
Give me your answers in the comment section below, and I’ll choose one to receive a paper copy of either A Measure of Disorder or Knot in Time (your choice) and you’ll also receive an e-copy of my new book (tentatively titled The Devil You Know) when it comes out later this year.