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Three Glorious Things with Smarty Chris Bohjalian! Plus, the Week's Best Reads...
Dear Wags,
Last week, I shared a few thoughts on Authors Equity, the new venture founded by three top publishing executives: Madeline McIntosh, Nina von Moltke, and Don Weisberg. Their idea for revolutionizing the book trade is tied to profit-sharing. That model has a growing number of advocates, including bestselling writers Louise Penny and John Searles.
May those stars get even richer. I’m first in line whenever Penny releases an Inspector Gamache mystery, and thrilled for her to earn more of my dollars. Bestselling authors deliver on the pitch. They deserve a much bigger piece of the pie.
Mid-list authors are unlikely to cash in on this profit-sharing bonanza. Advances—the old fashioned way writers make money—have gotten more miserly for anyone who isn’t already a celebrity. Arrangements like the one proposed by Authors Equity are tough on those who need more support to spin rough manuscripts into gold.
I don’t mean hand-holding (which only big stars get). I’m talking about foundational elements of publishing that have been winnowed away for decades — advance money, copy editing, book design, and marketing among them. Authors Equity is part of an array of reactions to that decline. I’m not sure how it fixes publishing’s structural problems.
If you are a talented writer with a brilliant idea, it always helps to have an independent income. In Authors Equity’s model, you are going to have to wait a considerable time without compensation as the house gets your book ready for publication, ships it to stores, and waits for imagined profits to roll in.
As it stands, many authors already dig into their own purses to hire additional editors, sensitivity readers, and publicists for help strapped publishers can’t provide. They are also expected to relentlessly promote themselves on their social networks. If you believe publishing heavily favors those already on third base, it’s hard to see how A.E. changes the game. It pays to have equity to leverage theirs.
People perennially try to circumvent legacy publishing to get their books out. The digital revolution gave millions access to tools once controlled by a handful of companies. But old school houses still convey credibility. If they can afford it, authors will try to enhance what these legacy publishers offer.
Alongside venerable firms there are now mushrooming ranks of independent contractors—from editors to graphic designers— pitching their wares to beleaguered writers. Many of these contractors are former executives like McIntosh & Co. They’ve been squeezed by a business that’s falling short, and have set up their own shops.
They hardly work for free. But like the parents of a kid who needs S.A.T. prep and a killer college essay, authors will do whatever they can for their precious creative babies.
In a world where writers hustle like never before, hybrid models like Authors Equity have enormous allure. Leaving aside whether this shift is good for Literature, canny creative entrepreneurs should run the numbers before signing up. A.E. will likely do best as a business catering to major players. It may not be so helpful to untested authors unlikely to command a mass audience.
If we’ve learned anything from the vicissitudes of 21st century publishing, it’s that one size does not fit all. Nothing looks better than bespoke tailoring that carefully tucks away hidden darts and seams. But that level of service always comes at a steep price.
Yours ever,
BKP
The Morningside by Téa Obreht
Some years ago we stayed at the Negresco Hotel in Nice. Its legendary proprietor, Madame Jeanne Augier, still lived in a top-floor suite and sent her pooches down by elevator to take their constitutional. Obreht’s latest novel stars Silvia, who dwells in a strange luxury apartment building called The Morningside in fictional Island City. Up in the penthouse roosts Bezi Duras, a figure who leaves the premises only to walk three massive hounds. If Augier inspired this book, that’s where comparisons end, because Island City is a half-submerged megalopolis in the near future. Things look grim, but Silvia is sustained by her Aunt Ena, who delights in sharing folktales. Welcome to a dystopia that spares room for beauty and joy.
Wolf at the Table by Adam Rapp
Myra Lee Larkin is 13 years old in 1951 when a man she believes is Mickey Mantle offers her a lift home. She doesn’t become his victim, but three other souls die that night. In the years that follow, she and her siblings grow into troubled adulthood, wrestling with a legacy of terrible violence. Rapp’s new novel is so dark it glistens. Fans of Cormac McCarthy will love this riveting tale of madness, serial murder, and barely suppressed evil.
The Mars House by Natasha Pulley
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