This is among the portents of the new era of publishing, forecast in this Time magazine article — a very interesting look at what’s happening in the industry, thanks in part to the technologies that make digital printing (i.e., self-publishing) cheaper and easier. The novel, writes Lev Grossman, is “about to renew itself again, into something cheaper, wilder, trashier, more democratic and more deliriously fertile than ever.”
The problem, Grossman writes, isn’t that people aren’t reading — it’s the publishing business itself, a system of author advances (which often translates into publisher losses) and consignment sales (more losses) that dates back to the Depression. Under this system, the publisher takes all the risks and suffers all the losses. And they are less and less able to handle that, especially in these difficult economic times.
Enter the digital age: the Reader, the Kindle, and Google. And while self-publishing used to be a last resort (and, many agents and editors warn, a career killer), it’s now becoming a more respectable option — and even a better one for those writers with a good book and a good platform, and who want to keep more of the profits themselves. And while the majority of self-published books are self-published for a good reason, the article points out just a few of self-publishing’s successes, including Brunonia Barry’s self-published novel The Lace Reader, later picked up by William Morrow in a $2-million, two-book deal; and William P. Young’s The Shack, which spent 34 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list.
Grossman writes, “Old Publishing is stately, quality-controlled and relatively expensive. New Publishing is cheap, promiscuous and unconstrained by paper, money or institutional taste. If Old Publishing is, say, a tidy, well-maintained orchard, New Publishing is a riotous jungle: vast and trackless and chaotic, full of exquisite orchids and undiscovered treasures and a hell of a lot of noxious weeds.”
And while he maintains that Old Publishing won’t disappear anytime soon, we’ll see lots of changes in the meantime: without the constraints of physical pages, novels will be longer and doled out episodically, Grossman predicts. “We’ll see less modernist-style difficulty and more romance-novel-style sentiment and high-speed-narrative throughput. Novels will compete to hook you in the first paragraph and then hang on for dear life.”
I agree with Grossman that this is all neither good nor bad: “it just is.” I love to see writers such as Elle Newmark find their homes in the publishing world. Newmark’s story is a great one: Her agent submitted her novel (The Book of Unholy Mischief) to publishers and received several rejections; Newmark rewrote the book and tried to find a new agent but no one would take it on; she thought about giving up. In the meantime, she turned sixty and still believed in the book, so she decided to self-publish it. She hosted a fantastic virtual launch party, and within 24 hours received several offers of representation from top literary agencies. She signed with William Morris, her book went to auction, and she eventually received a two-book deal from Simon & Schuster (and I seem to remember reading that this was a seven-figure deal).
So among many other things, New Publishing also means that there are greater chances for all writers who believe in their work enough. And this is definitely a good thing.