#dabwaha, now with extra bribery!

So we interrupt those boring posts about books and publishing and pricing and stuff to bring you what really matters…. the third round of #dabwaha! The field of Hellagood Authors has been narrowed from 8 to … 2. And the two who are remaining are Courtney Milan and Loretta Chase.

Say what? Let’s see. There’s Loretta Chase, author of LORD OF SCOUNDRELS, only the best romance novel of all time, and there’s Courtney Milan.

As far as I can tell, I just need to resort to outright bribery. So here’s the bribe I’m offering: if by some miracle I advance to the next round, I’ll give you a scene that I wrote. Which scene, you ask?

Well, sometimes, when I’m trying to flesh out key pieces of backstory–when I need to know what happened and who said what, so that I know what those people are thinking about today–I write out scenes. Just so I know what happened.

It just so happens that I have a scene sitting on my hard drive. It’s a scene between Smite Turner and Richard Dalrymple, when they were both 15 years old. It’s written from Richard’s point of view.

Question: How do I know they were both 15 years old? Well, because the scene takes place on their mutual birthday.

Did you know that Smite and Richard shared a birthday? There are two other things that are revealed in this scene (besides the fact that they share a birthday).

These things aren’t spoilery things (I wouldn’t give out spoilery things). But they are interesting facts. And I think both of them shed a lot of light on Smite. And Richard. So… if you want it, you know what you have to do: basically convince everyone you know with an IP address to go vote in DABWAHA for TRIAL BY DESIRE.

Business Model versus Religion

Both traditional publishing and self publishing have their adherents, and the battle lines are being drawn.

So, how come there are battle lines?

If someone wants to self-publish, go ahead! If someone wants to sign a contract with their traditional publisher, go ahead! I may care about the outcomes for my friends, because I care about my friends, but it’s hard for me to get worked up because some dude I don’t know just signed a contract for books that will come out in 2014. It’s his choice. So maybe he doesn’t make as much money. I generally don’t get exercised about unknown people who make business choices that only impact their personal lives. That’s because I think of writing as a business, something that I should approach rationally, with reasonable questions in mind, not as a religion that should be taken on faith and not doubted.

Here’s a little test you can run so that you can differentiate between a business model and a religion.

  • Do you think that everyone should do it your way?
  • Do you think that everyone that disagrees with you simply doesn’t understand what you know so well?
  • Do you use words to describe people who disagree with you that are derogatory in nature?
  • Do you secretly (or not so secretly) think that everyone doing it differently is misguided and just needs to come to the light?

Congratulations! You are espousing a religion.

  • Do you think that profit and loss depend on individual circumstances?
  • Can you list circumstances that make profit more likely?
  • Do you accept that, even under the best of circumstances, loss might still occur?
  • Do you believe that reasonable people might differ, and that different ways of doing things might still both prove profitable?

Congratulations! You probably have a business model.

Please note that there are business model/religion types on both sides of the self/traditional publishing divide. There is nothing wrong with having a religion, or holding strong beliefs. Just try to recognize that, as with all religions, someone else holds different beliefs dear, and there’s no need to vilify them for it.

In which competition fails to be perfect

This is the vaguely economic argument that people make when they talk about e-book pricing: “The price of all books will go to zero. Everyone knows that in a perfectly competitive marketplace, the price will tend towards the marginal cost of distribution, which for digital goods is zero. Authors must band together and make sure that books are priced at something high, or we will all surely perish.”

I bristle at the indiscriminate application of economics, where nobody checks that the assumptions underlying the economic theory holds true first. Here’s the challenge: if someone wanted to read for free for the rest of their life, they could do it, easily, today. They’d start with Project Gutenberg. There is a ton of Pride and Prejudice fanfiction–more than any one person could read in her lifetime. People have been posting stories–entire novels worth–on livejournals for lo these many years. There is more free reading material available than any reasonable person could tackle. And yet–shockingly–people pay for electronic books.

How can you explain this? Is it a breakdown in the market? Is it that the market has not yet reached equilibrium? Is it that ereaders haven’t yet become commonplace? None of that. It’s because a book is not a perfectly competitive marketplace.

It would be if there were no intellectual property laws–anyone could compete perfectly with books by Courtney Milan simply by making a copy of my book, which would cost them basically nothing to do. Nobody could charge anything for books by Courtney, because somebody would always undercut them. I would make no money. You can see this principle at work on Amazon if you search for public domain works.

Luckily for me I have an exclusive right to distribute my books and to license others to do so, and so there is not a perfectly competitive marketplace for books by Courtney Milan. In fact, the market is quite the opposite of competitive: I have been granted a legal monopoly over books by Courtney Milan, and that means I can charge whatever I want, and nobody else can sell my books for less, unless I give them the right to do so. Therefore, we don’t have perfect competition.

“But Courtney,” you say, “books are economic substitutes for each other. If you charged $5,000 for a book, people would just go and read Sherry Thomas and Tessa Dare and Julie Anne Long and Meredith Duran instead.”

Too true. I may have a legal monopoly over books by Courtney, but there are decent economic substitutes for books by Courtney. The problem is that (a) there are a small number of really good economic substitutes and (b) all substitutes are imperfect, with some substitutes being more imperfect than others.

For instance, I have a vast amount of empirical data demonstrating that at least some people would rather pay $7.99 to read my book than spend $0.00 to read Moby Dick for free. This is because Moby Dick is a really, really bad economic substitute for a historical romance. I like to think that even in historical romance, there is no perfect substitute for a book by Courtney. Heck, my books aren’t perfect substitutes for each other. Most people don’t read Unveiled a second time and say, “Well, now I feel just as good as if I’d read Unclaimed, so why bother?”

We all know that books are imperfect substitutes for each other because if there were, by golly, I still wouldn’t be waiting (semi-patiently) for George R.R. Martin’s Dance with Dragons. I’d have read Coraline by Neil Gaiman and I wouldn’t bother. If books were interchangeable, I wouldn’t have stood in line to get Patrick Rothfuss’s signature. Scheherazade would never have lasted a thousand Arabian nights, because the King wouldn’t have cared how the story ended.

Now, I don’t deny that books are imperfect substitutes for each other. And I don’t deny that this results in  price competition. But as a general rule, the better the author, the harder it is to find a good old-fashioned economic substitute for her Conversely, the worse the author, the easier it is to substitute. It’s really easy to bore people. It’s hard to entertain them. And the authors who can make you laugh consistently–or keep you on the edge of your seat–or have you reaching for your hankie–you know they are not interchangeable.

So, when someone says that price must tend towards the marginal cost of distribution, you are implicitly saying that authors write indistinguishable crap. And frankly, if I believed I wrote indistinguishable crap, I wouldn’t bother writing.

One of the reasons that competition is so imperfect in the book world is that this is a field that is very hard to enter. Oh, you might think it’s easy–all you have to do is slap words down and put a book up on a Kindle. But it is hard to write a book, and it is a thousand times harder to write a good book. It takes a lot of skill and a lot of talent. Self-publishing doesn’t make it any easier to write a good book–it just makes it easier to take a bad book to market.

Writing a book is so hard that there are not enough truly awesome authors in this world to keep the voracious readers in excellent books for all their reading hours. Voracious readers have to settle for “really good” authors and “enjoyable” books. If they read fast and often enough, they’ll delve into the “okay” territory just so they have something to read.

So yeah, I’m not worried about author compensation. It is already the case that authors like Stephen King can charge $34.99 for a book, while authors like Courtney Milan charge $7.99. There’s a reason for that, folks, and it’s because Courtney Milan is a really, really poor economic substitute for Stephen King.

I do think there are some ramifications to the e-revolution. I do think that there’s unmet demand for more reasonably-priced works. And I do think that price-competition will force the price of many books down. But I don’t think that having 500,000 books on Amazon priced at $0.99 will so transform the book industry that everyone will have to drop their prices to $0.99 and will still only sell 100 copies. The book industry has managed to survive against a backdrop where every single excellent book from a century ago is available for free.

The forthcoming apocalypse

There are rumblings around publishing blogs about the forthcoming apocalypse. What apocalypse, you ask? You know–the apocalypse in which all of New York publishing crumbles to dust under the onslaught of a vast supply of 99 cent books, which force the market price of a book to that of an iTunes download. That apocalypse.

Everyone seems to be making a bunch of predictions about what will happen, and I figure that I’m about as qualified to prognosticate as anyone else out there. I am confident that every single one of these little gems will come true in the following five years, so read ’em and weep.

  1. A lot of people are going to make a lot of claims using figures that were gleaned through confirmation bias. The word “data” will be used when the person means “anecdote.” Multiple anecdotes will be strung together and pointed to as “data,” and statisticians will weep and gnash their teeth and talk about the need for random sampling to no avail.
  2. Really good books will be published, which makes me happy as a reader. Some of those books will have a low, low price, which will make me happy as a consumer.
  3. Crappy books will also be published, priced anywhere from $400 to $0.99. Hopefully I will avoid most of them.
  4. Really good books at a reasonable price will always be in demand.
  5. There will not be enough really good books available to satisfy the most voracious and/or picky of readers.
  6. Thus: reasonably good books will also be in demand.
  7. Crappy books will not be in significant demand at any price.
  8. Some really good books will still have disappointing sales, and fans will be baffled.
  9. Not all really good books will come from New York.
  10. Not all crappy books will come from indies.
  11. People won’t agree on whether a book is really good, but if everyone agrees that a book is crap, it probably is.

If 99 cent books were going to destroy the nascent ebook industry, I would think that Project Gutenberg would have done it by already. There’s a massive number of REALLY GOOD books available for free–and yet people still buy the latest Stieg Larssen. People buy the latest Courtney Milan, for that matter, too.

And now, #dabwaha Round 2…

*Thump.*

That’s the sound of my suitcases hitting the ground. It also means that I have my trusty laptop back.

*squirnch*

That’s the sound of me hugging it tightly. Oh, sweet sweet Internet addiction, how I missed you!

In any event, those who read the last blogpost know that I was out of town sans laptop for the last round of #dabwaha, which I now know stands for “Dear Author Bitchery Writing Award for Hellagood Authors.” 64 books entered. 32 have been eliminated, in one foul swoop. And…gulp… one of those books was not mine.

Yes, you read that right. Through a combination of luck, pity votes (because I was out of twitter range), and, apparently, hard campaigning by Angela James and some notable others, I squeaked out a narrow victory against Sherry Thomas. How narrow was this narrow victory? The margin was 3 votes cast out of 754 votes total.

Thank you, any and all of you who voted for my book, because 3 votes is a total squeaker, and I would never have made it without you. Really.

Still… some part of me wishes that I had tied Sherry, instead of winning. In part, this is because I really loved His at Night, and while I don’t like losing (competitive, can’t help it, sorry), I’m pissed that His at Night didn’t get farther. But in larger part this is because in Round 2, I’m up against Joanna Bourne’s The Forbidden Rose.

Joanna Bourne is a giant. She wins, like, everything–polls, the RITA, Christmas, boxing matches… you name it, she wins it. As she should, because she is a genius. The only hope that either Sherry or I had of toppling her would have been if we had tied, and petitioned the Powers that Be to let us continue as an ungainly juggernaut-amalgam of our two books: His at Desire, the story of Lord Vere’s forbidden love with Lady Kathleen, who is rescuing Ellisande’s aunt from Lord Harcroft, with nothing to aid her but a skittish horse and a travel guide to Corfu.

You would read that book, right? You would totally read that book, and you would totally vote for it over Joanna Bourne’s book.

But, alas. Here I am, pitted against Joanna Bourne. There’s nothing to do to try to get ahead except trash talk. Except…here’s the thing. Have any of you ever tried trash-talking against Joanna Bourne? She’s kind of intimidating. I can try the whole “your mother smelled of elderberries” thing but she would probably just nod complacently and say, “I think you mean gooseberries. Elderberries, as I’m sure you know, are….” And you would blush and nod your head and say, “Oh, of course, I totally knew that. Right. Yeah.”

Trash talking Joanna Bourne feels kind of like trash talking Einstein. Everything you say looks petty, and it just makes you look bad. It’s like she won’t stoop to my level or something. But I’m not going to let that stop me.

Joanna Bourne, you will regret the day that you ever wrote a fabulous book that lots of people loved! You’ll regret it bitterly.

When the voting opens, this post will update with a Proper Link and everything. UPDATED: Proper link to vote for yours truly, and thereby squelch the polite, brilliant, amazing behemoth that is Joanna Bourne: http://dabwaha.com/2011/03/vote-here-2011-round-2-set-1/

dabwaha!

Yes. It is time for DABWAHA. If you’re wondering what DABWAHA stands for, it stands for … I can’t seem to find it right now, and of course, I am hampered.

See, I am on vacation. My husband thought I needed to spend some time not working, so I didn’t bring my laptop. Or my iPhone. The only way I have to access the internet right now is my Kindle. I don’t remember my twitter password (it’s all saved on my laptop/iPhone) and can’t access twitter.

In any event, DABWAHA stands for something like the Dear Author/Bitchery W…. something. And I’m sure that that is not interesting or explanatory at all, so the short version is that it’s a really freaking awesome competition in which romance novels are pitted against romance novels.

Trial by Desire is one of the nominees. You can vote for it on March 16th, from midnight Central Time to noon Central Time. But here’s the thing: Trial is up against His at Night by Sherry Thomas. I’m not sure I would vote for myself over Sherry Thomas, and so I’m having a hard time working up an appropriate trash talking routine, especially typed out painstakingly on Kindle.

So go and vote in the DABW…something for…someone!

ETA: Having searched twitter for “@courtneymilan” I see that Sherry Thomas is threatening to audit me, assuming that I would threaten to sue her. Dear Sherry: suck it! (Also do you know how hard it is to spell Sherry on a Kindle?)

On eating your seed corn

Today, the disturbing news that is going around is that some publishers have asked Overdrive (the library lending program) to limit the number of checkouts for a digital lending license.

Look, I get that money is tight. I get that you’re worried about an infinite number of checkouts from one digital copy. I get that you’re projecting the future and it’s filled with fear. What I don’t get, however, is the utter disdain for the vital role that libraries fill in our community, and in the book-buying ecosystem.

So let’s talk about the lifecycle of a voracious reader: me.

I enjoyed reading from a very young age. I started forming lifelong habits at the age of ten, and continued through my twenties. It quickly became apparent that the sources of books available to me were vastly, vastly inadequate. My parents didn’t have a lot of discretionary income (having opted for discretionary children instead). We had a lot of books in the house, but a house that has 1,000 books in it is nothing–you finish most of those 1,000 books by the time you are 9 or 10, and that’s including the hours you spend struggling through “The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich,” because damn, there really isn’t anything else to read.

We got most of our additional reading through the library. We would go every week during the summer, and we’d each check out the maximum number of books. (Which I think was three or four). I would finish my own books on the first day of the week, and then swap with my sister. By the end of the week, we were all slavering, waiting for my little brother to finish his latest Hardy Boys book.

When I went away to college, I had to bend over backwards to keep my fiction reading up. I read everything I could find in the library. I borrowed from friends. On occasion, when I couldn’t bear to wait on the library waiting list for a new release, I would take the money for the book I wanted from my food budget–but since I was spending $15 a week on food, this was not always an option. Back then, I was willing to jump through the most enormous hoops to get books for free: begging, borrowing from people I barely knew, waiting for weeks on the library waiting list. I was more than willing to trade free time (which I had in spades) for books.

Since that time, my discretionary income has increased substantially, and my free time has decreased accordingly.

When I was young, and forming habits, and had no money, I could get free books. If I had not been able to get free books, I would have eventually found other ways to pass my time. Video games, role playing, television… you name it, there are a ton of other free or near-free habits I could, and would, have developed.

Today, library budgets are being slashed. Some publishers don’t make their books available for digital lending, and more publishers are actively hostile.

But let’s face the truth: libraries are an annoying way to get books. You have to wait. You have to read the book on someone else’s schedule–when you hit your spot–and you only have two weeks to read it before it’s ripped from your grasp, and later on, when you can’t remember the title or the author you can’t scour your shelves in vain.

A lend from a library is never as good as a purchase. People do it because they are readers, and they put up with it because it is really, really expensive to support a flat-out voracious reading habit on your own dime.

Publishers, if you make it impossible for young people–those in the “under 25” category–to support a good reading habit on their own dime, these people are not going to start magically spending money on books when they start making a decent income. No; at that point, they’ll already have started spending their time haunting hulu instead, where they can actually get free entertainment. And when they start making money, they’ll be buying iTunes streams of those shows they watched for free.

Me, personally, I’d rather they were buying books.

When I was 20, I spent maybe $50 a year on books. Libraries subsidized my reading for 10 years of my life. But once I started having a reasonable income, the tables turned. I imagine that I’ll be spending over $5,000 a year on books–what I spent last year–every year for the rest of my life.

Libraries are the future of reading. When the economy is down, we need to make it easier for people to buy and read books for free, not harder. It is stupid to sacrifice tomorrow’s book buyers for today’s dollars, especially when it’s obvious that the source in question doesn’t have any more dollars to give you.

It’s finally here!

Today, the Smart Bitches Sizzling Book Club will be talking about Unveiled. The discussion starts at 6 PM EST that would be 9 PM EST, 6 PM PST, and yes, do you see why I need a copy-editor? I’ll join in around 7 PM PST.

I specifically scheduled an appointment that will last until 6, just so I wouldn’t be tempted to peek. Come talk to other people about my book. And then come talk to me! I will have a glass of wine, and that will eradicate my filter. You can get me to say ANYTHING with one glass of wine.

Looking forward to seeing you all!

*excitement*

The Kool-Aid I drink

As a general rule, I try not to drink Kool-Aid in publishing. I don’t believe there is any one way to do things; everyone who’s found success has walked a different path, and whenever someone tells me “EVERYONE SHOULD DO IT THIS WAY!” I raise an eyebrow and think, really? Depending on which beverage vendor you choose, you can have your flavor: traditional publishing is dying, books will become advertisements with pretty graphics, or traditional publishing is on its way to becoming a lean, mean dynamo, but before that can happen, zombie pirates will eat our brains. Some say you should never self-publish because it’ll destroy your chances at a career in traditional publishing. Some say you should never traditionally publish because the evil overlords will steal your back-breaking labor for their own profit.

I dunno about any of that. I figure that any way authors can make money works for me.

But amidst a great deal of negative news, there is one kind of Kool-Aid I will happily imbibe, and today, I feel like drinking it.

I believe in books. And stories. I believe that most people are really good people. I firmly believe that in the years to come, people will continue to want to read. I don’t think that the business of telling stories will disappear anytime soon. If I wanted to, I could believe in doom and/or gloom. But no–sorry–I love books too much.

And so if there’s any Kool-Aid I drink, it’s the one that says that stories are magic and that they’ll be around for longer than I will.

*raises glass*

Heroes

Every time I talk to my sisters about events in the past–sometimes even events in the recent past–I’m struck by how differently we see things. There’s a story we all tell about our mother, for instance, and everyone in my family tells it differently. (My mother’s version of the story insists that she wasn’t even the one who made the decision.)

For the most part, we’re all the heroes of our own tale. We make sense of the world in relation to us. Our world revolves around ourselves, even if we try to be cognizant of the fact that not everyone feels the same way. Even if we try not to be selfish, everyone is inevitable self-centered, at least in so far as their point of view is stuck behind their eyes. Someone tells me what I said and did a few months ago, and their view of it is colored indelibly by their point of view. And while I sometimes hear their account in surprise (I did what? I said what? Surely not!) I have to recognize that my glasses (permanently tinted rose, at least with regards to myself) are affixed.

One of the things I wanted to do with Unveiled (and the sequels involving the other Turner brothers) was explore this phenomenon. Everyone’s the hero of their own tale. I don’t think it’s possible to ever bring accounts of “what happened” into perfect harmony. It’s just not a resolvable problem.

It’s interesting to me now, as I finish touching up Unclaimed–Mark’s story–because I wonder whether people will try to sync up Mark’s view of things with Ash’s. Mark and Ash mention the same stories, but not quite in the same way. I wonder whether people will think that’s a feature or a bug.

The obvious “for instance”: No matter how old Mark gets, Ash will always see him as his little brother, someone who needs to be protected. When Mark is seventy years old, Ash will still be looking out for him, and getting annoyed because Mark failed to mention that he was going on a trip for a few days, and what if something had happened to him? In Unveiled, Ash identifies specific ways in which he needs to protect his brother. But like most grown men, Mark doesn’t think he needs to be protected at all….