Over the last few weeks, the "blogosphere" and "listseriverse" have been buzzing about small presses and how we are the "future of publishing." Oh my, that sounds portentous and, if true, more than a little intimidating.
Speculation about the future is rampant, what with daily newspapers folding across the country and magazines shutting their doors. Is the printed word going solely onto the Internet (God, I hope not)--and will books necessarily follow? Are the fates of the "big publishers" (those so readily endorsed by MWA, because they give out-of-proportion advances that they rarely recover, etc.) hanging in the balance? Are they sitting at the sidelines, chewing their fingernails because they see us independent publishers creeping up behind them like a thief in the night, stealing their market share and their best writers?
Honestly, I don't think so. But I do think things have to change, and are changing slowly...but these are not necessarily changes that benefit any particular person or entity, whether novelist or publisher. I think it's increasingly clear that the large houses are taking fewer chances than in the past, mostly as a result of having gone public in recent decades, which makes them answerable to stockholders, who want profit$$$ and not necessarily a stake in bringing a worthy writer into print. And it's getting harder and harder for ANYONE to make any money. Bookstores are losing money; publishers take big write-downs in terms of returns; writers get meagre royalty checks. Of course, Janet Evanovich and James Patterson have nothing to worry about, but how many writers can say that?
And yet...people still want to write books. They want to write very badly, and they want to be published, and they want people reading their work. This is where we independent houses step in, accepting unagented submissions and taking chances, because our cost structure is lower and we have lower overhead. We offer a way for these aspiring writers to make it into print, but always with the caveat that they really cannot expect (barring a minor miracle) to make MONEY from their work. A little pin money, yes--enough to buy some new furniture once in a while. But not mortgage-paying, car-payment-making money.
So, then, are we the future? I think we are to a certain extent--but I also think that we are the distant, distant past. Remember medieval and Renaissance days, when painters, artists, and poets were "sponsored" by the wealthy, who got their portraits painted and odes written about them in exchange for monetary support? Well, I do think the current small-press ethos is based on a similar patronage model. This is what I mean:
The house I work for is owned by a few independently wealthy (or, should I say, "well off") people who love books and who decided they wanted to be in publishing. Their money does fund our operation, in that they are willing to ride out the highs and the lows over a number of years, where we seem to alternate between red ink and black ink. These gentle folks (well, gentle is not the right word) are dedicated to publishing, but that doesn't mean they let me spend money foolishly. Before any book is published, our editorial board - composed of the owners and the editors/publishers - agree to its publication. Each book is being financed by these folks, so they have to like what they see. I suspect/know that this model is true at a lot of other independent houses.
And what about me? Well, I am fortunate enough to have made some nice bonuses in my younger years, and to have invested wisely, so that at this stage of my life I can afford to work for a salary that most young people could not live on. This is a pretty nice life for me at a particular age, but I can see why younger people would want to pursue careers that pay a steadier, higher income. In fact, I don't blame them in the least, though it does sort of break my heart to see younger folk not coming into the industry (trying "corporate communications" instead, because of the higher pay).
For all the above reasons, I get so frustrated when reviewers refuse to review our books because they might not have heard of us, or because we're not on some list sponsored by some group, or because we're not [fill in the blank with some criterion that discriminates against independent houses]. Anyway, a new week is about to begin, so I will close by saying: "Here's to good books, and to the people who write and publish them."
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