Kris Rusch gets hacked

Apparently someone got really butt hurt over Kris Rusch’s latest blog posts. Unfortunately for the hacker, you can’t hack a popular site to shut it down. The internet is more interconnected than ever now. Passive Guy has called for everyone to repost the articles, and since I was planning to do so anyway it’s my pleasure to post the following.

————————————————————————————————-

Welcome to one of my other websites. This one is for my mystery persona Paladin, from my Spade/Paladin short stories. She has a website in the stories, and I thought it would be cool to have the website online. It’s currently the least active of my sites, so I figured it was perfect for what I needed today.

Someone hacked my website. Ye Olde Website Guru and I are repairing the damage but it will take some time. The hacker timed the hack to coincide with the posting of my Business Rusch column. Since the hack happened 12 hours after I originally posted the column, I’m assuming that the hacker doesn’t like what I wrote, and is trying to shut me down. Aaaaah. Poor hacker. Can’t argue on logic, merits, or with words, so must use brute force to make his/her/its point. Poor thing.

Since someone didn’t want you to see this post, I figure I’d better get it up ASAP. Obviously there’s something here someone objects to–which makes it a bit more valuable than usual.

Here’s the post, which I am reloading from my word file, so that I don’t embed any malicious code here. I’m even leaving off the atrocious artwork (which we’re redesigning) just to make sure nothing got corrupted from there.

The post directs you to a few links from my website. Obviously, those are inactive at the moment. Sorry about that. I hope you get something out of this post.

I’m also shutting off comments here, just to prevent another short-term hack. Also, I don’t want to transfer them over. If you have comments, send them via e-mail and when the site comes back up, I’ll post them. Mark them “comment” in the header of the e-mail. Thanks!

The Business Rusch: Royalty Statement Update 2012

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Over a year ago, I wrote a blog post about the fact that my e-book royalties from a couple of my traditional publishers looked wrong. Significantly wrong. After I posted that blog, dozens of writers contacted me with similar information. More disturbingly, some of these writers had evidence that their paper book royalties were also significantly wrong.

Writers contacted their writers’ organizations. Agents got the news. Everyone in the industry, it seemed, read those blogs, and many of the writers/agents/organizations vowed to do something. And some of them did.

I hoped to do an update within a few weeks after the initial post. I thought my update would come no later than summer of 2011.

I had no idea the update would take a year, and what I can tell you is—

Bupkis. Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zilch.

That doesn’t mean that nothing happened. I personally spoke to the heads of two different writers’ organizations who promised to look into this. I spoke to half a dozen attorneys active in the publishing field who were, as I mentioned in those posts, unsurprised. I spoke to a lot of agents, via e-mail and in person, and I spoke to even more writers.

The writers have kept me informed. It seems, from the information I’m still getting, that nothing has changed. The publishers that last year used a formula to calculate e-book royalties (rather than report actual sales) still use the formula to calculate e-book royalties this year.

I just got one such royalty statement in April from one of those companies and my e-book sales from them for six months were a laughable ten per novel. My worst selling e-books, with awful covers, have sold more than that. Significantly more.

To this day, writers continue to notify their writers’ organizations, and if those organizations are doing anything, no one has bothered to tell me. Not that they have to. I’m only a member of one writers’ organizations, and I know for fact that one is doing nothing.

But the heads of the organizations I spoke to haven’t kept me apprised. I see nothing in the industry news about writers’ organizations approaching/auditing/dealing with the problems with royalty statements. Sometimes these things take place behind the scenes, and I understand that. So, if your organization is taking action, please do let me know so that I can update the folks here.

The attorneys I spoke to are handling cases, but most of those cases are individual cases. An attorney represents a single writer with a complaint about royalties. Several of those cases got settled out of court. Others are still pending or are “in review.” I keep hearing noises about class actions, but so far, I haven’t seen any of them, nor has anyone notified me.

The agents disappointed me the most. Dean personally called an agent friend of ours whose agency handles two of the biggest stars in the writing firmament. That agent (having previously read my blog) promised the agency was aware of the problem and was “handling it.”

Two weeks later, I got an e-mail from a writer with that agency asking me if I knew about the new e-book addendum to all of her contracts that the agency had sent out. The agency had sent the addendum with a “sign immediately” letter. I hadn’t heard any of this. I asked to see the letter and the addendum.

This writer was disturbed that the addendum was generic. It had arrived on her desk—get this—without her name or the name of the book typed in. She was supposed to fill out the contract number, the book’s title, her name, and all that pertinent information.

I had her send me her original contracts, which she did. The addendum destroyed her excellent e-book rights in that contract, substituting better terms for the publisher. Said publisher handled both of that agency’s bright writing stars.

So I contacted other friends with that agency. They had all received the addendum. Most had just signed the addendum without comparing it to the original contract, trusting their agent who was (after all) supposed to protect them.

Wrong-o. The agency, it turned out, had made a deal with the publisher. The publisher would correct the royalties for the big names if agency sent out the addendum to every contract it had negotiated with that contract. The publisher and the agency both knew that not all writers would sign the addendum, but the publisher (and probably the agency) also knew that a good percentage of the writers would sign without reading it.

In other words, the publisher took the money it was originally paying to small fish and paid it to the big fish—with the small fish’s permission.

Yes, I’m furious about this, but not at the publisher. I’m mad at the authors who signed, but mostly, I’m mad at the agency that made this deal. This agency had a chance to make a good decision for all of its clients. Instead, it opted to make a good deal for only its big names.

Do I know for a fact that this is what happened? Yeah, I do. Can I prove it? No. Which is why I won’t tell you the name of the agency, nor the name of the bestsellers involved. (Who, I’m sure, have no idea what was done in their names.)

On a business level what the agency did makes sense. The agency pocketed millions in future commissions without costing itself a dime on the other side, since most of the writers who signed the addendum probably hadn’t earned out their advances, and probably never would.

On an ethical level it pisses me off. You’ll note that my language about agents has gotten harsher over the past year, and this single incident had something to do with it. Other incidents later added fuel to the fire, but they’re not relevant here. I’ll deal with them in a future post.

Yes, there are good agents in the world. Some work for unethical agencies. Some work for themselves. I still work with an agent who is also a lawyer, and is probably more ethical than I am.

But there are yahoos in the agenting business who make the slimy used car salesmen from 1970s films look like action heroes. But, as I said, that’s a future post.

I have a lot of information from writers, most of which is in private correspondence, none of which I can share, that leads me to believe that this particular agency isn’t the only one that used my blog on royalty statements to benefit their bestsellers and hurt their midlist writers. But again, I can’t prove it.

So I’m sad to report that nothing has changed from last year on the royalty statement front.

Except…

The reason I was so excited about the Department of Justice lawsuit against the five publishers wasn’t because of the anti-trust issues (which do exist on a variety of levels in publishing, in my opinion), but because the DOJ accountants will dig, and dig, and dig into the records of these traditional publishers, particularly one company named in the suit that’s got truly egregious business practices.

Those practices will change, if only because the DOJ’s forensic accountants will request information that the current accounting systems in most publishing houses do not track. The accounting system in all five of these houses will get overhauled, and brought into the 21st century, and that will benefit writers. It will be an accidental benefit, but it will occur.

The audits alone will unearth a lot of problems. I know that some writers were skeptical that the auditors would look for problems in the royalty statements, but all that shows is a lack of understanding of how forensic accounting works. In the weeks since the DOJ suit, I’ve contacted several accountants, including two forensic accountants, and they all agree that every pebble, every grain of sand, will be inspected because the best way to hide funds in an accounting audit is to move them to a part of the accounting system not being audited.

So when an organization like the DOJ audits, they get a blanket warrant to look at all of the accounting, not just the files in question. Yes, that’s a massive task. Yes, it will take years. But the change is gonna come.

From the outside.

Those of you in Europe might be seeing some of that change as well, since similar lawsuits are going on in Europe.

I do know that several writers from European countries, New Zealand, and Australia have written to me about similar problems in their royalty statements. The unifying factor in those statements is the companies involved. Again, you’d recognize the names because they’ve been in the news lately…dealing with lawsuits.

Ironically for me, those two blog posts benefitted me greatly. I had been struggling to get my rights back from one publisher (who is the biggest problem publisher), and the week I posted the blog, I got contacted by my former editor there, who told me that my rights would come back to me ASAP. Because, the former editor told me (as a friend), things had changed since Thursday (the day I post my blog), and I would get everything I needed.

In other words, let’s get the troublemaker out of the house now. Fine with me.

Later, I discovered some problems with a former agency. I pointed out the problems in a letter, and those problems got solved immediately. I have several friends who’ve been dealing with similar things from that agency, and they can’t even get a return e-mail. I know that the quick response I got is because of this blog.

I also know that many writers used the blog posts from last year to negotiate more accountability from their publishers for future royalties. That’s a real plus. Whether or not it happens is another matter because I noted something else in this round of royalty statements.

Actually, that’s not fair. My agent caught it first. I need to give credit where credit is due, and since so many folks believe I bash agents, let me say again that my current agent is quite good, quite sharp, and quite ethical.

My agent noticed that the royalty statements from one of my publishers were basket accounted on the statement itself. Which is odd, considering there is no clause in any of the contracts I have with that company that allows for basket accounting.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with basket accounting, this is what it means:

A writer signs a contract with Publisher A for three books. The contract is a three-book contract. One contract, three books. Got that?

Okay, a contract with a basket-accounting clause allows the publisher to put all three books in the same accounting “basket” as if the books are one entity. So let’s say that book one does poorly, book two does better, and book three blows out of the water.

If book three earns royalties, those royalties go toward paying off the advances on books one and two.

Like this:

Advance for book one: $10,000

Advance for book two: $10,000

Advance for book three: $10,000

Book one only earned back $5,000 toward its advance. Book two only earned $6,000 toward its advance.

Book three earned $12,000—paying off its advance, with a $2,000 profit.

In a standard contract without basket accounting, the writer would have received the $2,000 as a royalty payment.

But with basket accounting, the writer receives nothing. That accounting looks like this:

Advance on contract 1: $30,000

Earnings on contract 1: $23,000

Amount still owed before the advance earns out: $7,000

Instead of getting $2,000, the writer looks at the contract and realizes she still has $7,000 before earning out.

Without basket accounting, she would have to earn $5,000 to earn out Book 1, and $4,000 to earn out Book 2, but Book 3 would be paying her cold hard cash.

Got the difference?

Now, let’s go back to my royalty statement. It covered three books. All three books had three different one-book contracts, signed years apart. You can’t have basket accounting without a basket (or more than one book), but I checked to see if sneaky lawyers had inserted a clause that I missed which allowed the publisher to basket account any books with that publisher that the publisher chose.

Nope.

I got a royalty statement with all of my advances basket accounted because…well, because. The royalty statement doesn’t follow the contract(s) at all.

Accounting error? No. These books had be added separately. Accounting program error (meaning once my name was added, did the program automatically basket account)? Maybe.

But I’ve suspected for nearly three years now that this company (not one of the big traditional publishers, but a smaller [still large] company) has been having serious financial problems. The company has played all kinds of games with my checks, with payments, with fulfilling promises that cost money.

This is just another one of those problems.

My agent caught it because he reads royalty statements. He mentioned it when he forwarded the statements. I would have caught it as well because I read royalty statements. Every single one. And I compare them to the previous statement. And often, I compare them to the contract.

Is this “error” a function of the modern publishing environment? No, not like e-book royalties, which we’ll get back to in a moment. I’m sure publishers have played this kind of trick since time immemorial. Royalty statements are fascinating for what they don’t say rather than for what they say.

For example, on this particular (messed up) royalty statement, e-books are listed as one item, without any identification. The e-books should be listed separately (according to ISBN) because Amazon has its own edition, as does Apple, as does B&N. Just like publishers must track the hardcover, trade paper, and mass market editions under different ISBNs, they should track e-books the same way.

The publisher that made the “error” with my books had no identifying number, and only one line for e-books. Does that mean that this figure included all e-books, from the Amazon edition to the B&N edition to the Apple edition? Or is this publisher, which has trouble getting its books on various sites (go figure), is only tracking Amazon? From the numbers, it would seem so. Because the numbers are somewhat lower than books in the same series that I have on Amazon, but nowhere near the numbers of the books in the same series if you add in Apple and B&N.

I can’t track this because the royalty statement has given me no way to track it. I would have to run an audit on the company. I’m not sure I want to do that because it would take my time, and I’m moving forward.

That’s the dilemma for writers. Do we take on our publishers individually? Because—for the most part—our agents aren’t doing it. The big agencies, the ones who actually have the clout and the numbers to defend their clients, are doing what they can for their big clients and leaving the rest in the dust.

Writers’ organizations seem to be silent on this. And honestly, it’s tough for an organization to take on a massive audit. It’s tough financially and it’s tough politically. I know one writer who headed a writer’s organization a few decades ago. She spearheaded an audit of major publishers, and it cost her her writing career. Not many heads of organizations have the stomach for that.

As for intellectual property attorneys (or any attorney for that matter), very few handle class actions. Most handle cases individually for individual clients. I know of several writers who’ve gone to attorneys and have gotten settlements from publishers. The problem here is that these settlements only benefit one writer, who often must sign a confidentiality agreement so he can’t even talk about what benefit he got from that agreement.

One company that I know of has revamped its royalty statements. They appear to be clearer. The original novel that I have with that company isn’t selling real well as an e-book, and that makes complete sense since the e-book costs damn near $20. (Ridiculous.) The other books that I have with that company, collaborations and tie-ins, seem to be accurately reported, although I have no way to know. I do appreciate that this company has now separated out every single e-book venue into its own category (B&N, Amazon, Apple) via ISBN, and I can actually see the sales breakdown.

So that’s a positive (I think). Some of the smaller companies have accurate statements as well—or at least, statements that match or improve upon the sales figures I’m seeing on indie projects.

This is all a long answer to a very simple question: What’s happened on the royalty statement front in the past year?

A lot less than I had hoped.

So here’s what you traditionally published writers can do. Track your royalty statements. Compare them to your contracts. Make sure the companies are reporting what they should be reporting.

If you’re combining indie and traditional, like I am, make sure the numbers are in the same ballpark. Make sure your traditional Amazon numbers are around the same numbers you get for your indie titles. If they aren’t, look at one thing first: Price. I expect sales to be much lower on that ridiculous $20 e-book. If your e-books through your traditional publisher are $15 or more, then sales will be down. If the e-books from your traditional publisher are priced around $10 or less, then they should be somewhat close in sales to your indie titles. (Or, if traditional publishers are doing the promotion they claim to do, the sales should be better.)

What to do if they’re not close at all? I have no idea. I still think there’s a benefit to contacting your writers’ organizations. Maybe if the organization keeps getting reports of badly done royalty statements, someone will take action.

If you want to hire an attorney or an auditor, remember doing that will cost both time and money. If you’re a bestseller, you might want to consider it. If you’re a midlist writer, it’s probably not worth the time and effort you’ll put in.

But do yourself a favor. Read those royalty statements. If you think they’re bad, then don’t sign a new contract with that publisher. Go somewhere else with your next book.

I wish I could give you better advice. I wish the big agencies actually tried to use their clout for good instead of their own personal profits. I wish the writers’ organizations had done something.

As usual, it’s up to individual writers.

Don’t let anyone screw you. You might not be able to fight the bad accounting on past books, but make sure you don’t allow it to happen on future books.

That means that you negotiate good contracts, you make sure your royalty statements match those contracts, and you don’t sign with a company that puts out royalty statements that don’t reflect your book deal.

I’m quite happy that I walked away from the publisher I mentioned above years ago. I did so because I didn’t like the treatment I got from the financial and production side. The editor was—as editors often are—great. Everything else at the company sucked.

The royalty statement was just confirmation of a good decision for me.

I hope you make good decisions going forward.

Remember: read your royalty statements.

Good luck.

I need to thank everyone who commented, e-mailed, donated, and called because of last week’s post. When I wrote it, all I meant to do was discuss how we all go through tough times and how we, as writers, need to recognize when we’ve hit a wall. It seems I hit a nerve. I forget sometimes that most writers work in a complete vacuum, with no writer friends, no one except family, who much as they care, don’t always understand.

So if you haven’t read last week’s post, take a peek [link]. More importantly, look at the comments for great advice and some wonderful sharing. I appreciate them—and how much they expanded, added, and improved what I had to say. Thanks for that, everyone.

The donate button is below. As always, if you’ve received anything of value from this post or previous posts, please leave a tip on the way out.

Thanks!

Click Here to Go To PayPal.

“The Business Rusch: “Royalty Statement Update 2012,” copyright © 2012 by Kristine Kathryn Rusch.

———————————————————————————————

Now obviously there isn’t a donate button below, so don’t go looking. Kris’ site is still hacked and virusy as of this post. Once things are settled make sure to go over to her site and show her some support.

Writer, Meter Thyself

Do yourself a favor, writers, and start a wordcount spreadsheet. Fill it in every day. If you wrote nothing today, type 0 into the cell. There are two benefits to this that I’ve seen in my writing.

First, numbers have an interesting effect on our psychology. On a day where you write little or nothing you’ve probably got a list of excuses prepared for yourself. You see, we humans are good at telling ourselves why we don’t suck. But when you enter a “0″ onto a spreadsheet and your “daily average” count updates, the sharp drop in your productivity hurts. That number won’t comfort you, it won’t make excuses for you or be understanding. It merely is. Most people react to this by vowing to make up for lost time and do better the next day, rather than accepting that it was out of their control. Likewise, when your stats improve you get a nice little drip of dopamine.

The second benefit is that you can build a real understanding of your productivity. On a day you record a horrible wordcount, your natural instict is probably to figure out why it happened. You’ll look back at that day and analyze it more objectively than if you were looking for excuses, and you’ll do it that day rather than later when the details are fuzzy.

Once you keep a spreadsheet (and writing journal), you’ll begin to notice patterns and uncover what causes you to do better or worse. One last bit of advice: don’t hold yourself to the wordcounts that other people put out, whether better or worse than yours. That’s them, and you are you. Knowing yourself, however, can only help you improve.

Adverbs, and When to Use Them

Adverbs are evil, or so they say. Literature has benefited a lot from that advice, but as with all rules for writing it can go too far. There are proper times to use adverbs, and you can apply another common bit of writing advice to tell yourself when to do so.

“Show, don’t tell.”

Huh? How does that relate to adverbs? Because the role of adverbs is the same as the role of narrative: to gloss over, make abstract, generalize, or summarize. Consider this sentence:

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Lennil said carefully.

For the moment, ignore the question of whether to attach adverbs to a speaker attribution. What does the word “carefully” mean in this sentence? It means that Lennel spoke in a careful manner. Dig deeper and ask yourself what it means to speak in a careful manner. My answer would be: “to speak in a controlled, conscious way, making sure not to be tricked into saying something incriminating or give away certain information or make mistakes, possibly speaking with a hesitating rhythm or some difficulty of speech.”

Wow. All of that contained in one word, with at least three reasons someone could be speaking “carefully”. This is what adverbs do. They package a whole slew of descriptions into one word. While this can be a boon for making your prose brief, you always sacrifice something when using an adverb. Consider these passages as replacements for the above.

#1 What was she getting at? He’d already told her when he’d been at the liquor store. And why connect that with the shooting?

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

#2 He tried to remember the story he’d fed her earlier but the booze was making it all fuzzy. He stalled.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

#3 “So that means you were there right at the time of the shooting.”

She watched his face for a reaction and, sure enough, he narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

#4 He surprised her by going stiff all over and avoiding her eyes.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Now, critique of my prose aside, what can you notice about how I changed things? The dialogue itself does a pretty good job of telling us that he is being careful. I also set up each example with a motive or observation. When you get to the dialogue, you’ve already got a feeling for how he’s going to say it. One more thing you should notice is that I’ve taken the opportunity to add characterization to the scene rather than wrap up the dialogue with a one-size-fits-all adverb.

You’ll find other benefits to replacing adverbs. Drawbacks? It’s harder and takes more words. Of course, there are times where you just want to throw in an adverb anyway. In general you should observe the surrounding text and ask if an adverb will help the pacing. If so, go ahead and drop an adv-bomb. Otherwise you’re probably missing out on a richer text.

Prodding the Alpha

A great advantage to self-publishing is being able to work on your own schedule, right? Except there’s also the cover designer’s schedule, editors’ schedules, alpha readers’ schedules…

I can’t do anything about most of those. I can do something about my alpha reader, though. Any time an alpha reader drags their heels, I strongly recommend this three step plan:

Bribery

Do them a favor of some kind first. Casually mention your story project and how it’s going. This gives them a reminder that you need them to finish reading the story before you can continue, and also gives them a reason to feel obligated to you. If they still don’t pick up the pace then apply the next step.

Guilt

Now that the alpha owes you something, you have leverage. If they don’t finish reading your manuscript soon enough, make them feel bad about it. Bad enough to question whether their word or, yes, even they themselves have worth if they don’t finish marking up your hard copy.

Destroy, Destroy, Destroy

Begin with everything the alpha holds dear, then move on to hopes and dreams, and only then proceed to their fingers and toes. I’m sorry bro, but I warned you about this. I HAVE A PUBLISHING SCHEDULE TO KEEP.

Finally through with all of the marketing baloney

I had an excellent time reading this article by Lindsay Buroker earlier in the evening late last night. It was an excellent time because 1. it confirms my own thinking on the matter (not a great reason) and because 2. it had excellent logic and proof to support it’s claims (great reason). The crux of the article was this, that marketing is not going to help anyone sell books, unless that person has a nice catalog to generate secondary sales.

Spamming Twitter and manicuring your Facebook and building a mailing list etc etc etc is all fine, except when it keeps you from putting more work up for sale. Blogging about writing: how does that help? It helps me vent, and that’s why I’ll continue to do it.

What this all means for me is cutting back on the writing activities I do that don’t involve actual writing. It’s easy to get caught up in the whole indie publishing movement and chat with others about it. That earns neither money nor readers. It’s also easy to feel guilty about ignoring what others are saying is the most vital thing for a writer to do so they can be discovered. I’ll worry about that when I have enough work to be discovered.

Did Stephanie Myers only get the crust of the bread?

Just read a thought-provoking analysis over at Mary Sisson’s blog. We don’t know the exact numbers, but it seems like Stephanie Myers was paid… well, less than she was worth.

When a talent like Mz. Myers comes out with a phenomenal bit of pop culture like the Twilight saga, you expect her to profit from it. And she has. But you would expect her to get a more equitable portion of the profits. If she had self-published the books, would she have met the craze that made her famous? Possibly. Amanda Hocking’s success can reasonably be said to come from following the road Mz. Myers paved.

If Mz. Myers had published through KDP, she would have gotten a much fatter profit per sale on a less expensive product. If her books were a craze before, imagine if they were priced at $4.99 and earned her over $3.50 per sale. According to Mary Sisson’s blog post, the market for her work was worth at least $180 million in one year.

A lower price point expands the market for a product. If Mz. Myers, as a self-pubbed author, could have captured at least a quarter of the same sized market over time, then she would have made twice the $21 million she made in the year between May 2010 – May 2011. That doesn’t take into consideration the royalties she will continue to earn from her book, but then that’s probably at the 17.5% rate most traditional publishers give, rather than 70% on a better-priced book.

The only thing I can say against self-pubbing for Mz. Myers is that she would have lost the appeal that rippling abs give a book aimed at teen girls (and apparently middle-aged women).

Thanks once more to Mary Sisson for the analysis.

Is he really suggesting a $0.00 advance?

“This might be too radical, but if a book hasn’t earned out, and isn’t earning much, the publisher could consider restructuring the contract with the author.  Erase the advance, and work out a profit sharing model that gives the author incentive to seriously promote.  Right now many authors are locked into contracts where they have a disincentive to promote in the vain hopes they might get their rights back.  Or offer the authors a chance at buying their rights back with reverse royalties.”

This is a quote from Bob Mayer, writing at the Digital Book World Expert Publishing Blog. You can find the article here. The quote is near the bottom of the article.

The reason I found this worth quoting is that Mr. Mayer proposes this move as an incentive for authors to promote their own books. The problem is, he recognizes that many authors with current contracts already have an incentive to get the rights reverted to them by refusing to promote their own book. Exactly how do authors benefit by having their rights reverted to them? By self-publishing and making four times the money per ebook sale and taking 100% of the profit for further print editions.

The question that isn’t being asked is: If publishers cut out the advance, what incentive is there for an author to go with a publisher rather than self-publishing? The skills needed to bring a book to market can be hired out. What does the publisher offer when they give no advance and then take the lion’s share of the profits forever after? They’re definitely not offering marketing, since this proposal is meant to be an incentive to get authors to do more of their own marketing.

This suggestion was offered as a solution to a problem that publishers have. It’s written from that perspective. The thing is, it would only end up convincing writers to go elsewhere. From the perspective of a writer it’s an entirely negative move. Do more work and we’ll pay you less, or maybe just far more slowly.

Hey, folks? Why not offer more money? More money has been a proven incentive for getting people to do things. It seems obvious to me that you could get authors to do a heck of a lot more marketing by raising their royalties.

I guess I just don’t know how to think like a publisher. This looks like more of the “we are a brand, therefore we have value” thinking.

Formatting for… Well, Just for Profit

I’ve been digging around the interwebs lately and generally making a nuisance of myself on respectable blogs and in the process uncovered a lot of good information about formatting a book for epublishing. This is funny because, as those of you who only exist inside my head might remember, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.

Best source I found was here by Bridget McKenna at her blog Occupy Publishing.