Remaindered Dreams

As a kid I used to wonder why some books were sold so cheap. In the occasional bookstore I’d see big, expensive-looking books for unbelievably low prices. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I’d discovered remaindered books.

A friend in the publishing industry explained it to me. Publishers have to project how many copies of a book to print. This is becoming increasingly difficult to project. Reprints are always possible, but as in most industries, buying in bulk is cheaper, so publishers try to project sales for a first print run.

In the case of a famous author it’s okay to overprint. Better to have enough stock on hand to meet initial demand than to risk the public losing interest. Despite technology, publishing is a slow industry, compared to the world the internet has created. But what it you print too many and public interest never rises to the bait?

First you offer such books at a discount, hoping the reduced price will pick up sales. The more desperate to unload stock, the longer the sale price will last. If it looks like the print run was just a bad call, the books will be remaindered—sold at cost plus ten percent. A publisher barely covers the cost that way, but you can find some bargains as a shopper.

The other day I found a one-dollar book that looked like it could be related to my most recent novel. I picked it up, knowing that the author would see very very little royalty on this one. But it is my dream to be remaindered some day.

Publishers see remaindering as a mark of failure. An over-zealous marketer or enthusiastic editor said this book would sell. It didn’t perform. To me, however, this shows a deep sense of belief. A publisher believes enough in the author to overprint. To me that is a dream.

I wouldn’t mind the reduced royalties, just knowing that someone once thought my book was good enough to reach a large readership. Remaindering, I know, is not ideal. For the struggling writer, however, remaindering shows a once upon a time fantasy, at least for a while, became a reality.

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K. Marvin Bruce

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