Skip to main content

Without Price

Books are a funny business.  You may have noticed that Amazon sells books for less than the cover price.  What might not be obvious is that the price of the book printed on it is a suggested retail price.

A friend works in publishing.  He tells me it is unlike any other business.  For example, when publishers sell books to a wholesaler, unlike almost no other industry, they must be willing to accept returns.  If Barnes and Noble buys five hundred copies and only sells fifty, the publisher has to take the stock back and mark those sales as losses.

For reasons such as this, and declining print sales, publishers have to be careful about the print run.  Too much stock costs money to warehouse, and if it doesn’t sell, it gets marked down.  These deeper discounts lead to remaindering, which is why you can find bargain books at B&N.

Pricing a book is a bit of a guess.  Part of it has to do with how expensive a book is to make.  The larger the book the more expensive, obviously.  Most books aren’t expensive to manufacture, physically.  The real costs comes in the number of people involved in making and selling it.

Most books don’t sell as well as a publisher hopes.  We’ve all read about the unexpected run-away successes (The Martian, The Devil Wears Prada, Robopocalypse) written by authors largely unknown at the time, or at least not household names.  Such run-away successes help to make up the money for books that don’t do so well.



If you’re like me, and I suspect many writers are, you know when you’ve produced something good.  You can feel it—it’s something fresh and vibrant, unlike what anyone else has done.  You have a natural pride of accomplishment, but the publishers are deaf.

Part of it is that book prices don’t represent the real costs of staying in business.  I don’t say that excuses sending a form letter to an intensely creative person dismissing a book with a word, but it may help those of us who struggle to understand it.


The bottom line is the bottom line.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dusty

  My, this thing is dusty.   My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic.   No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third.   With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give.   Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out.   I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again.   I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut?   My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago.   Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction.   Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up.   I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best...

Creative Righting

  Rejection of my writing is a rejection of my imaginative world.   That’s why I was cheered by the acceptance of one of my stories this week.   That makes number 31. I’ve been working on a lot of fiction lately, even as nonfiction book number 6 is going to press.   The ideas are still there, and bizarre as ever, but publishing venues just aren’t welcoming. The other day I had lunch with a professor whose wife is also a professor.   She just had her first novel published, and so he pointed me to her indie publisher.   I went to their website to learn that they’re closed to submissions.   I have to admit that my latest accepted story, “Creative Writing Club,” was probably given the green light because I know the editor.   That seems like a pretty dicey way to get any notice, doesn’t it?   You have to know the right people even in the low circulation world. My fiction is difficult to classify.   It’s got speculative elements to it.   ...

Creativity

  Maybe you’ve noticed this too.   When you step away from fiction writing for a while, your creativity becomes flaccid.   I’ve had to step away from this blog for a while because I was writing my sixth nonfiction book.   God, I’ve missed fiction! Now that I’ve entered that phase of waiting for publishers to respond, I’ve turned my limited writing time back to fiction.   I submitted a couple of stories this week and am waiting to hear about those as well.   When you’re a writer, waiting is a way of life. Opening my software where I store my fiction stories, I was amazed by how many I found.   Some of them are bad—so bad that they’ll never (rightfully) be published.   Some are surprisingly good and have been sitting around while I finished up my nonfic. The vast majority, however, are unfinished.   Some years back I realized that when I’m writing in the heat of inspiration but don’t have time to finish a story that I need to write down where I...