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Sunday, Nov 22, 2009
As Promised: The Unexpurgated, Possibly Unfinished History of One Midlist Author's Life
Book 1: Contract signed 1994. Book published 1996. Advance: $150,000.
Book takes one year, no research, pure joy to write.
I love my editor; my editor loves me.
Several publishers vying to buy book means book sells at auction for big advance. Big advance means big publicity budget. Big publicity budget means promotion handled by publicity director, which means reviews in top newspapers, excerpts in top magazines, TV and radio appearances, four weeks on two bestseller lists, seven-city tour. Publisher (Mr. Big) sends handwritten note, thanking me for "writing the great book we all knew you had it in you to write."
Question to agent: "Is there a downside to an unknown author getting such a big advance for a first book?"
Agent's answer: "What are you gonna do, turn it down?"
Pitch line: "Welcome a fresh new voice!"
Sales: I don't ask. No one seems to care. Final tally: Hardcover/paperback sales combined are 10,000 copies.
Current status: Out of print. Small but loyal cult following; 10 years later adoring fans still show up at readings, clutching well-worn copies, eager to tell me how book changed their lives.
Conclusion drawn then: Being an author, working with the best editor and the best publisher on earth is a dream come true.
Conclusion drawn now: There is a downside to getting a big advance for a first book.
The Desperate Years: 1996-98
"A small number of major houses account for the lion's share of publishing's annual revenues of about $20 billion ... In 1996 [in the U.S.] an astounding 140,000 new or revised titles were issued."
-- Phil Mattera, vice president, National Writers Union
"Crisis of the Midlist Author in American Book Publishing"
Revue Française d'Études Américaines, October 1998
1997: Agent submits new manuscript to Editor Who Still Loves Me (despite disappointing sales of first book). EWSLM, enthused, takes manuscript to pub board. Sales director rejects new book, citing losses incurred by first one. EWSLM acknowledges to agent: It's not the book being rejected; it's the author.
Question to agent: "Is my career as a writer over?"
Agent's answer: "I'm going to need to try something unheard of to get you back in the game."
Agent offers EWSLM unprecedented deal: If publisher will buy new book, we'll forgo advance to help defray losses from first one. EWSLM gently advises agent to "pursue other avenues." Agent gently advises me to "pursue other genres."
To keep daughter in Nikes while writing short-story collection, I write Web copy for dot-coms, ghostwrite celebrity bio (Book 2). Agent sends out collection; collection rejected by 10 editors. Agent suggests I "take a break." I start pursuing other agents.
Celebrity bio becomes national bestseller. It doesn't go on my permanent record, though, since it doesn't have my name on it.
Question to potential new agent: "Do you think changing agents will help my career?"
New agent's answer (in so many words): "It sure can't hurt."
Conclusion Drawn Then: Even most loyal, powerful editor employed by best publisher on earth can't override power of profit & loss statement.
Conclusion Drawn Now: Even most loyal, powerful editor employed by best publisher on earth can't override power of profit & loss statement.
Interlude: It's Nothing Personal
"Hardcover publishers lose money on most of their titles and depend greatly on a few bestsellers ... the large publishers are increasingly inclined to concentrate their resources on books that have the greatest potential to become bestsellers. Like Hollywood, book publishing has become a business driven by the quest for blockbusters."
-- Phil Mattera, op. cit.
Book 3: Contract signed 1998. Book published 2001. Advance: $10,000.
Book takes two years, intensive research, mostly joy to write.
Book rejected by 10 publishers; lone editor making offer promises to "make up for the modest advance with great publicity on the back end." Desperate to "get back in the game," I accept advance that's less than 10 percent of first one from editor who never returns my calls, continues to misspell my name.
Minuscule advance means no publicity budget. No publicity would mean this Second Chance Book will, instead, be Last Book. I hire freelance publicist at $1,500 per city, $5,000 to pitch to national media. I hand over half of advance, sign contract with publicist acknowledging no guarantee of outcome. Spend six months working full-time on own publicity in key cities; publicist focuses on nationals. Publicist books me on 55 radio shows, some local and B-list national TV.
Book hits local bestseller lists on pub date, stays there six months. Book wins awards. Glowing review in Time magazine nets calls from Hollywood producers. Screenwriter spends weekends at my house "to get inside my head," talks incessantly about her ongoing extramarital affair. One year later, screenwriter tells my agent she's too busy to pursue our project. Now too late to pursue once-interested producers. Neither agent nor I have received compensation for year spent working/negotiating with screenwriter.
Pitch line: None. Whose job was that?
Sales: Publisher announces print run of 20,000; prints 7,000, then four more printings over next year.
Current tally: Hardcover/paperback sales combined are 25,000 copies.
Question to agent: "How can we capitalize on these solid sales?"
Agent's answer: "Write a new book -- quick."
Current status: Three years later book still yields $600 royalty checks (after agent's 15 percent commission) every six months. Total earnings to me, after agent commission and publicist fee, are $21,000.
Conclusion Drawn Then: A $10,000 book advance is only worth taking out of pure desperation.
Conclusion Drawn Now: Sometimes it's worth taking out a loan to write a book. The trick is knowing when.
Interlude: Publishing Used To Be
"Publishing used to be almost a family business. Often a publisher would see talent in a new young writer and support that writer for many years, printing book after book that didn't sell, trusting that eventually the writer would 'break through' and make it big. The publisher was the friend and champion of the writer, willing to risk again and again for a writer [the house] believed in. Those days are long past."
-- Jeff Kirvin, op. cit.
Book 4: Contract signed 2002. Book published 2004. Advance: $80,000
Book takes two years, hellish research, difficult and delightful to write.
Love my editor at third publishing house; editor loves me. Medium-sized advance based on previous bestseller means medium-sized publicity budget. Book assigned to Sharp Young Publicist, so I don't hire freelance publicist. Six months before pub date SYP initiates meetings with major media outlets; tells me to choose between "Good Morning America" and "Today," Redbook and O, advises me to buy "great TV clothes." One month before pub date, publisher ("Mr. Big II") calls with bad news: SYP is MIA.
Mr. Big II assigns Junior Assistant Publicist to "lock down" Major Media Bookings made by SYP. After calling several "confirmed" producers, JAP concludes that SYP fabricated bookings while secretly preparing to "pursue other opportunities."
JAP makes heroic effort, books local media (I wear "Good Morning America" outfit for three-minute interview on local cable news show), is unable to book promised national media. Book wins awards; sales flat, even in areas saturated by local media coverage.
Pitch line: "The much-anticipated new book from the best-selling author of 'Y Marks the Spot'!"
Sales: Based on major media bookings promised by SYP, publisher announces print run of 35,000; based on lack of national media, publisher prints 10,000. Sales figures not in yet; projections not pretty.
Question to agent: "Is my career as a writer over?"
Agent's answer: "Write a new book proposal now, before the bookstores start shipping returns."
Current status: One hardcover copy (or less) available, spine-out, on a shelf hidden deep in the bowels of your local bookstore.
Conclusion Drawn Then: National media undoubtedly would have helped. But -- no matter how painstakingly written, no matter how enthusiastically promoted, no matter how glowingly reviewed, for reasons beyond mortal knowing, some books Just Don't Sell.
Conclusion Drawn Now: Maybe my career as a writer is over.
Just Ask Any Midlist Author -- This Happens All the Time
Stranger on a plane, at a party, on a date: "Wow -- you're a writer! Have I heard of you?"
Midlist Author: "Probably not."
Stranger: "Wow -- you're a writer! Have I read anything you've written?"
Midlist: "Probably not."
Stranger: "Wow -- you're a writer! Will I see your books at Barnes & Noble?"
Midlist: "Only if you look really hard."
Stranger: "I can't wait to tell my wife I met a real author! What's your name again?"
