What's the deal with book publishing?
June 2, 2005 5:43 AM Subscribe
What's the deal with book publishing?
A question yesterday had people say obiter dicta that they knew no one in the field who didn't want out. (Others disagreed.)
The extent of my exposure to the area is an older agent, and all he says is that publishers have no sense of humor, little sense of style, and that decisions currently are driven by the marketing departments.
As the downsides of publishing (low pay, some tedium) are well known, I'm wondering what unexpected hells turned the dream sour? Conversely, given the downsides, what keeps those who like it going? I invite insiders or those who know them to expound a little on the issues. Venting, commentary on changes over time for the worse, or better, prospects for the future, horror stories, gossip.
Prurient of me, I suppose, but I read a lot. Thanks in advance
A question yesterday had people say obiter dicta that they knew no one in the field who didn't want out. (Others disagreed.)
The extent of my exposure to the area is an older agent, and all he says is that publishers have no sense of humor, little sense of style, and that decisions currently are driven by the marketing departments.
As the downsides of publishing (low pay, some tedium) are well known, I'm wondering what unexpected hells turned the dream sour? Conversely, given the downsides, what keeps those who like it going? I invite insiders or those who know them to expound a little on the issues. Venting, commentary on changes over time for the worse, or better, prospects for the future, horror stories, gossip.
Prurient of me, I suppose, but I read a lot. Thanks in advance
Or read Michael Korda's Another Life (Korda was a VP, IIRC, at Simon & Schuster.)
What follows is my own highly subjective, overgeneralized and reductive capsule history.
Once upon a time, publishing was a "gentleman's business." That is, it was a career for those who didn't really need to earn any money. (That's why publishing has a tradition of closing early on Fridays in summer--so you can get to your country house early.) Because it was a genteel profession and no one needed to make money, the people who went into publishing did so because they loved books. Publishers were therefore willing to take risks by publishing books that were not likely to sell many copies--for instance, poetry or experimental fiction (or even just so-called quality fiction). Editors had the time to (and were expected to) actually edit manuscripts in hopes of producing the best book possible. In short, it was more art or craft than business.
Sometime in the last 20 years or so, everything went straight down the fucking toilet. The devil's minions decided that publishers weren't making enough money. Instead of erudite editors publishing actual literature, marketing departments decided that the way to increase cash flow was to publish as many books as humanly possible--quantity, not quality. The age of the "tie-in" dawned--not just movie tie-ins but utterly moronic stuff like a manual on fatherhood by Tim Allen. The assembly lines were speeded up and quality became a quaint, outmoded concept. Now, editors are under intense pressure to sign as many books as possible, and many are explicitly discouraged from doing any actual editing. Copyediting and editorial production are often outsourced and the whole process is inexcusably rushed, leading to an inevitable and precipitous decline in quality.
The end.
posted by scratch at 6:54 AM on June 2, 2005
What follows is my own highly subjective, overgeneralized and reductive capsule history.
Once upon a time, publishing was a "gentleman's business." That is, it was a career for those who didn't really need to earn any money. (That's why publishing has a tradition of closing early on Fridays in summer--so you can get to your country house early.) Because it was a genteel profession and no one needed to make money, the people who went into publishing did so because they loved books. Publishers were therefore willing to take risks by publishing books that were not likely to sell many copies--for instance, poetry or experimental fiction (or even just so-called quality fiction). Editors had the time to (and were expected to) actually edit manuscripts in hopes of producing the best book possible. In short, it was more art or craft than business.
Sometime in the last 20 years or so, everything went straight down the fucking toilet. The devil's minions decided that publishers weren't making enough money. Instead of erudite editors publishing actual literature, marketing departments decided that the way to increase cash flow was to publish as many books as humanly possible--quantity, not quality. The age of the "tie-in" dawned--not just movie tie-ins but utterly moronic stuff like a manual on fatherhood by Tim Allen. The assembly lines were speeded up and quality became a quaint, outmoded concept. Now, editors are under intense pressure to sign as many books as possible, and many are explicitly discouraged from doing any actual editing. Copyediting and editorial production are often outsourced and the whole process is inexcusably rushed, leading to an inevitable and precipitous decline in quality.
The end.
posted by scratch at 6:54 AM on June 2, 2005
I think it's obvious what keeps people going: the thrill of being associated with a glamor industry (for those people for whom glamor means literature, not movies). Some people can put up with the associated unpleasantness, some can't.
A question yesterday had people say obiter dicta that...
"Obiter dicta" is not adverbial; it's the plural of the noun obiter dictum. Either "say as an aside" or "mention in obiter dicta."
posted by languagehat at 6:55 AM on June 2, 2005
A question yesterday had people say obiter dicta that...
"Obiter dicta" is not adverbial; it's the plural of the noun obiter dictum. Either "say as an aside" or "mention in obiter dicta."
posted by languagehat at 6:55 AM on June 2, 2005
Large corporations have absorbed all the major publishers. Corporations' job is to maximize profits. So publishing books you know have a modest audience, but would still make a modest profit becomes a bad thing: the bosses want to go for the large profit every time. Actual risk becomes especially anathematic.
Meanwhile, bookstore chains and Amazon now dominate retail, so the publishers are dealing with an ever smaller number of (wholesale) book buyers, all of whom are trying to maximize their profits. So the whole effect is amplified -- the publisher doesn't want to touch a book unless its marketers think they can convince the chain book buyers that they'll make a profit with it.
Meanwhile, the publishing industry had an unbelieveably bad ability to measure sales for a long time. They were working blind. Finally, they can actually get some real numbers.
Meanwhile, the audience for books is shrinking, so they're fighting ever more fiercely for the remaining market.
Put it all together, and you've got Tim Allen on fatherhood.
posted by Zed_Lopez at 8:44 AM on June 2, 2005
Meanwhile, bookstore chains and Amazon now dominate retail, so the publishers are dealing with an ever smaller number of (wholesale) book buyers, all of whom are trying to maximize their profits. So the whole effect is amplified -- the publisher doesn't want to touch a book unless its marketers think they can convince the chain book buyers that they'll make a profit with it.
Meanwhile, the publishing industry had an unbelieveably bad ability to measure sales for a long time. They were working blind. Finally, they can actually get some real numbers.
Meanwhile, the audience for books is shrinking, so they're fighting ever more fiercely for the remaining market.
Put it all together, and you've got Tim Allen on fatherhood.
posted by Zed_Lopez at 8:44 AM on June 2, 2005
Best answer: Just so you know where I'm coming from, I've been working as an editor since the age of 20, am now 31, and have never done anything else, other than teen and unemployment-era scuzzy minimum wage jobs. My experience has been mostly within educational and legal publishing, with some freelance in different areas.
Hmm, what sours the dream... Well, I can't say I'm soured, but I guess I never really had a "dream". My expectations were few and fuzzy. As I recall in the beginning I thought I might like to work on literature or work at a fashion magazine. At present, while I would still like to work on fiction, I would be equally happy working on other types of things, and I wouldn't willingly work on a fashion mag now. I just couldn't bear the vapidity of it.
I loved editing and writing a decade ago and I still love it. I love to fix and polish and rearrange text. It almost doesn't matter what I work on, though I like best to work on books, and it must be something that seems worth my time, ie., no Harlequins unless it's Harlequins vs. starvation. I like my present job in legal publishing. I work on books that help judges and lawyers to do their jobs properly, so it meets the worthwhile criteria.
At all the publishing companies I have worked I have always found the atmosphere among my colleagues to be excellent - almost everyone is intelligent and literate and highly evolved with a good sense of humour, and some are outstandingly so. My present company is a good one and they treat people well. Other companies I've worked for have not. The big publishing conglomerates tend to be headed up by some cheap, monomaniacal asshole or other, and it filters down. I did put in four years at a terrible company, and I must admit that I do feel some bitterness towards them.
The salaries are low, yes. Despite the fact that I have the equivalent of six full years of post-secondary education (most of which I acquired part-time), I have yet to make over 40K (Cdn.). This is mostly due to the fact that publishing is so low-profit, though again, there are some huge conglomerates where salaries are deliberately kept low. Publishing employees also tend to be young, and predominantly women - older workers and men are less likely to put up with the low pay.
I can only make generalizations as to why people leave. Usually it's a salary issue. Quite often friends who have left tell me they don't like their new jobs as well, but it was a trade off. Maybe some people just don't like the work. An editor works quietly at his or her desk for 90% of the work day. This isn't for everyone. Or it's just too limiting - there's not much chance for advancement, and you have to be in a major city to have a reasonable selection of places to work.
Or maybe some people just have unrealistic expectations, Perhaps they have romanticized publishing, and perhaps publishing attracts a high proportion of idealistic types. For example, a college classmate of mine is a proofreader for a a tool company's catalogue and makes reference to "her chosen path" and "her work in publishing". Er, whatever. It's just a job, and I don't think it's realistic to expect to feel passionate love for a job, because at least 95% working people don't. I don't mind going to work every day, so I figure I'm pretty well off.
posted by orange swan at 8:46 AM on June 2, 2005
Hmm, what sours the dream... Well, I can't say I'm soured, but I guess I never really had a "dream". My expectations were few and fuzzy. As I recall in the beginning I thought I might like to work on literature or work at a fashion magazine. At present, while I would still like to work on fiction, I would be equally happy working on other types of things, and I wouldn't willingly work on a fashion mag now. I just couldn't bear the vapidity of it.
I loved editing and writing a decade ago and I still love it. I love to fix and polish and rearrange text. It almost doesn't matter what I work on, though I like best to work on books, and it must be something that seems worth my time, ie., no Harlequins unless it's Harlequins vs. starvation. I like my present job in legal publishing. I work on books that help judges and lawyers to do their jobs properly, so it meets the worthwhile criteria.
At all the publishing companies I have worked I have always found the atmosphere among my colleagues to be excellent - almost everyone is intelligent and literate and highly evolved with a good sense of humour, and some are outstandingly so. My present company is a good one and they treat people well. Other companies I've worked for have not. The big publishing conglomerates tend to be headed up by some cheap, monomaniacal asshole or other, and it filters down. I did put in four years at a terrible company, and I must admit that I do feel some bitterness towards them.
The salaries are low, yes. Despite the fact that I have the equivalent of six full years of post-secondary education (most of which I acquired part-time), I have yet to make over 40K (Cdn.). This is mostly due to the fact that publishing is so low-profit, though again, there are some huge conglomerates where salaries are deliberately kept low. Publishing employees also tend to be young, and predominantly women - older workers and men are less likely to put up with the low pay.
I can only make generalizations as to why people leave. Usually it's a salary issue. Quite often friends who have left tell me they don't like their new jobs as well, but it was a trade off. Maybe some people just don't like the work. An editor works quietly at his or her desk for 90% of the work day. This isn't for everyone. Or it's just too limiting - there's not much chance for advancement, and you have to be in a major city to have a reasonable selection of places to work.
Or maybe some people just have unrealistic expectations, Perhaps they have romanticized publishing, and perhaps publishing attracts a high proportion of idealistic types. For example, a college classmate of mine is a proofreader for a a tool company's catalogue and makes reference to "her chosen path" and "her work in publishing". Er, whatever. It's just a job, and I don't think it's realistic to expect to feel passionate love for a job, because at least 95% working people don't. I don't mind going to work every day, so I figure I'm pretty well off.
posted by orange swan at 8:46 AM on June 2, 2005
Like Zed Lopez mentions, large corporations have absorbed major publishers. This increased pressure on profits not only because corporations like money, but because these corporations make their money on media like film and music and have a very poor understanding of some basic publishing facts: books have a low profit margin and the backlist is a very important revenue source. I'd say recognizing the latter is a fundamental prerequisite for adventurous publishing: it encourages publishers to take risks on writers they believe will make something of themselves and to continue to develop those writers.
Also, to disagree with languagehat, I think people who leave want publishing to be glamorous and are then disappointed when it is not. The people who like their jobs (I am one) seem to get joy out of what they actually do and not give a shit about the assumed prestige.
posted by dame at 8:56 AM on June 2, 2005
Also, to disagree with languagehat, I think people who leave want publishing to be glamorous and are then disappointed when it is not. The people who like their jobs (I am one) seem to get joy out of what they actually do and not give a shit about the assumed prestige.
posted by dame at 8:56 AM on June 2, 2005
That's why publishing has a tradition of closing early on Fridays in summer--so you can get to your country house early.
I worked as a lowly pond scum in publishing during college, in NYC, and due to the demographics of your average intellectual New Yorker, I just assumed it was so everyone could get home before the Sabbath started at sunset.
posted by matildaben at 10:24 AM on June 2, 2005
I worked as a lowly pond scum in publishing during college, in NYC, and due to the demographics of your average intellectual New Yorker, I just assumed it was so everyone could get home before the Sabbath started at sunset.
posted by matildaben at 10:24 AM on June 2, 2005
Best answer: I guess the biggest "hell that turns dreams sour" is when people realize that publishing is a business and for some reason they though they found a way to earn a salary and still avoiding the trappings of the corporate world by entering in to publishing. I see it in about half the interns working for us. The dreams of 3-martini lunches and New Yorker-esque quips at the water cooler (the stuff of fiction) are replaced byphotocopying, mailing, and filing (the stuff of work). The problems I have with publishing are the problems I have with business in general and I still love the fact that I'm helping put out something that people want and isn't harmful (no Hitler, Marx or Kinsey on our list). I guess if you're trying to avoid working in a modern corporate environment and you take a job at a publisher that is owned by Seagram's or Rupert Murdoch, then you will be miserable.
I love summer hours, those Friday afternoons are the most productive part of the week for me since everyone who isn't really necessary leaves.
posted by rodz at 11:02 AM on June 2, 2005
I love summer hours, those Friday afternoons are the most productive part of the week for me since everyone who isn't really necessary leaves.
posted by rodz at 11:02 AM on June 2, 2005
something that people want and isn't harmful (no Hitler, Marx or Kinsey on our list)
That's an interesting grouping.
posted by gottabefunky at 11:14 AM on June 2, 2005
That's an interesting grouping.
posted by gottabefunky at 11:14 AM on June 2, 2005
Response by poster: Orange Swan and Rodz win because they wrote from the trenches, rather than the birds' eye view (though that too is interesting and I thank all those who wrote in.)
I'm sorry none the I-hate-my-job folk wrote in. I was wondering if there was something especially gruesome about publishing, worse than any other office job one tolerates for the pay check, the insurance, and the conversation. There was an air of, well, intensity in their comments to the earlier question that prompted me in mine. Sorry they feel that way. They'd hate my office big time.
Obiter dicta" is not adverbial; it's the plural of the noun obiter dictum. Either "say as an aside" or "mention in obiter dicta."
LanguageHat- Okay, mea culpa, we all get sloppy sometimes. Perhaps passim would have been better, although, nota bene, a lone obiter would have respected historical (if slightly antiquated) usage and is not, of course, by itself a noun. Thank you for keeping us honest.
posted by IndigoJones at 6:15 PM on June 2, 2005
I'm sorry none the I-hate-my-job folk wrote in. I was wondering if there was something especially gruesome about publishing, worse than any other office job one tolerates for the pay check, the insurance, and the conversation. There was an air of, well, intensity in their comments to the earlier question that prompted me in mine. Sorry they feel that way. They'd hate my office big time.
Obiter dicta" is not adverbial; it's the plural of the noun obiter dictum. Either "say as an aside" or "mention in obiter dicta."
LanguageHat- Okay, mea culpa, we all get sloppy sometimes. Perhaps passim would have been better, although, nota bene, a lone obiter would have respected historical (if slightly antiquated) usage and is not, of course, by itself a noun. Thank you for keeping us honest.
posted by IndigoJones at 6:15 PM on June 2, 2005
This thread is closed to new comments.
posted by Prospero at 5:50 AM on June 2, 2005