Book to the Future

Y'all might remember the grand entrance of the Vook in 2009. If not, in short: it's a form of enhanced e-book with movies and other media built into it. Video + book = Vook. Simple, cool, innovative, no?

Unfortunately, many readers found the videos and additional media distracting, particularly for works of fiction. (I could have told you that countless nonconsecutive video clips do not help a reader immerse him/herself in a fictional world.) Vook has since moved toward more nonfiction titles, however, and received a better response.

How a Vook differs from the Internet, I have no idea.

However! If you thought the Vook was the pinnacle of book/media mash-ups, you thought wrong. Enter Booktrack, a company that makes soundtracks for books.

Yes, soundtracks for books. Now while you're reading about a forest, you can hear THE SOUNDS OF A FOREST. Like, I don't know, birds and whatnot. When Bro McLadiesMan begins playing a mega sweet power ballad for his lady fair, you can listen along. When you get to a super intense part, you get to listen to super intense movie trailer-style music. &c, &c. (There are previews on the Booktrack website if you're interested.)

The Booktrack speed can be adjusted to your reading speed, as well, so the synchronization between sound effects and text should be reasonably good.

Be that as it may, I think I'll find Booktrack books similar to Vooks: over-hyped and distracting. I'm all for innovation in the field and I think it's necessary to the future success of print media, but I'm not sure rocking the audio equivalent of a movie trailer in the background is the best way to achieve this.

However! I'm curious, as always, to hear what you think. So, mes auteurs: yea or nay on the Booktrack experience?

An Open Letter to the Industry

Dear everyone: please, please stop asking me to fax things.

The publishing industry gets made fun of enough for its technological prowess—or, really, lack thereof—as it is. Please let me scan documents and e-mail them to you rather than force me to rely on a fax machine that is, in all likelihood, older than I am.

While we're on the topic, please let me use e-mail, cloud-based services, and flash memory devices to move information from one place to another. There is no need for me to write a PowerPoint presentation to a DVD. There is no need for me to print something out so I can fax it to you (this is happening less frequently, but really, it shouldn't be happening at all). There is no need for me to print something out so I can mail it to you when I could scan and e-mail it instead.

I understand that you're used to paper. There are many purposes for which I prefer paper, too. But the transfer of time-sensitive information is not one of them.

Speaking of! What are we doing chasing news stories with physical books, folks? By the time we set up, print, and distribute the book in question (assuming it's already been written, which is a big assumption), the public interest—and therefore the opportunity to make a sale—has passed. E-books, I say, or nothing.

Not that I'm an unapologetic advocate for the e-book, but I think this particular realm of publishing is an area in which the Internet will almost always do better. Many topical books need to be electronic in order to get them out in a timely fashion.

All of this to say, then, that time is money, and the less we do things because it's the way we've always done them and the more we look toward more efficient ways to get our stories out there, the better off we'll all be.


P.S. It's been over two years since anyone asked me for anything on a floppy disk. Keep up the good work.

More on the World of Tomorrow

With Borders no longer with us and digital sales comprising more and more of the market, I thought now would be a good time to revisit how these trends have evolved over time and where they might lead over the next few years.

First, while I don't think there's much of a physical future for magazines and newspapers, I do think there will always be a market for physical books. (I think magazines will go entirely digital over the next decade, with existing name brands already finding some success—the New Yorker has made a cool $1 million with their iPad app.)

The market for physical and used books five and ten years from now will certainly be smaller than it is today, and my expectation is that most physical media will eventually be found only in libraries. Independent and used book stores will, I believe, remain in business, but I think by the end of this decade almost all new books—almost certainly all new fiction—will be produced and consumed electronically.

Categories such as coffee table/art books and children's books will probably take longer to make this transition.

Second, I expect a continuation of a phenomenon which I predicted last November: the resurgence of the independent book store. Will indies control as much of the market as they did before the chains took up residence in the 1980s? I don't think so. But I do think there is a demand for physical books and that there are dollars to be had, and many areas that have lost Borders locations may well turn to independents to supply their books.

Also, as I've mentioned before, the independent book store is the go-to location for author readings, book signings, community events, open mic nights, and in-person browsing. Try as they might, online vendors can't replicate these advantages.

Finally, while I'm not sure how Amazon and Barnes & Noble are going to develop as competitors, I think that each will have to offer a spate of unique—perhaps proprietary—perks and technological advantages in order for them to coexist. Right now Barnes & Noble's primary advantage is its physical retail space, but I don't know how long that will continue to be the case. The further we trek into digital territory, the more important the Nook and e-book sales will be to B&N, and the less appealing it will be for the company to maintain its warehouse, shipping, and storefront infrastructures.

What do you think, mes auteurs?

It Came From The Cloud

First, many thanks to our five guest posters from last week! The activity in the comments section and on Twitter seem to indicate that all were fun, informative, and well-received, and I tip my digital hat to the five of you.

I'm still unpacking and settling in from my vacation, so today's post will be about you. Prithee, inform me, ladies and gents: how do you feel about Apple's iCloud?

Personally, I fear that Apple will use my information for iNiquity™, but that could just be my own paranoia talking. While I initially balked at the idea—Apple has made its name principally as a hardware, rather than software, manufacturer—I've since realized that this is a pretty smart move for the company. Most of the people I know who own Apple machines own multiple devices (laptop, desktop, iPhone, iPod, iPad, &c), and being able to link them together via the magic of the iNterwebz™ makes a lot of sense.

So, while I'm not sure I'll be partaking in Apple's newest venture—what about you?

Guest Post: Book Trailers, Batman, and Short-Form Promotion

by Brendan Gannon

In March, author Rye Barcott posted about his experience producing a trailer for his book. He expresses a healthy skepticism regarding the value of the trailer. Great: it is indeed hard to judge the extent to which a trailer actually boosts sales. (For the record, by the end of the post he is optimistic about the value of trailers, as am I.) His skepticism, however, is due at least in part to his doubt that the trailer can convey the essence of his book: "Can a few minutes on a screen really do justice to such a rich experience? I don't think so."

Well, that got me to thinking. A trailer that doesn't effectively capture the spirit of the work would be a lousy trailer. Right? If the trailer for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows showed Harry sitting in a tent for two minutes and forty seconds, we would not be impressed. Only two things separate a good trailer from a bad one:

• It conveys the essence of the work it represents.
• It's exciting enough to make the viewer want to learn more about, and ultimately pay for, the work it represents.

The general public would probably agree that some trailers make the grade. But we aren't the general public, we are authors! We labor for years on our personal masterpieces, weaving subtlety and meaning into a compelling narrative. How could a short flashy video possibly capture our books? This sentiment is similar to the complaint many would-be authors raise about query letters and synopses. Same idea, right? I created a sophisticated, many-layered narrative. How am I supposed to get that across in 250 words?

Why book trailers are awesome

The great strengths of a book trailer are the qualities that people doubt most. It's short. It's an audio/video representation of a printed work. It's for people with short attention spans. You wouldn't want it any other way.

These qualities mean your trailer can do things your book can't do, go places your book can't go. A trailer, like a haiku, captures big ideas through effective use of imagery and metaphor. A trailer conveys theme, mood, and motifs through use of color, light, and sound. A trailer vividly paints the world, the characters, and the stakes of your work. A picture, after all, is worth a thousand words, and you've got a minute or so of video.

Let's look at Batman as an example of effective short-form promotion. (Doesn't everyone?) When the movie The Dark Knight was about to come out, the studio knew they had a bundle of Hollywood hotness on their hands, and even before the trailers they had to get that across in the simplest of teasers: still images on posters, in print, and on the web. Hence the "Why so serious?" campaign.

This poster doesn't tell you much about the movie per se, but it does tell you what the movie is like. The blood suggests that Batman is a target, and that he is vulnerable. The lighting, the brick and the scrawls tell us the film will be gritty and hint at the Joker's low-tech methods. The tagline hints at the jarring contrast of the Joker's character: his drive to mock mainstream society and the disturbing, violent tactics he uses. It says if you like provocative, gritty and gothic you will like this movie. If you like campy comic book villains, you won't. Accurate and exciting. Done.

So how are you supposed to condense 60-80,000 words into a short video clip, or a one page query letter? By being authors. It's in the job description.

Yes, you can

Put another way: if you were an employee of the publisher, it would be unfair of them to expect you to write the book and market it. But you're not. You're a sole proprietor. You're ultimately responsible for your book, and everything about it; everyone involved in its journey to publication is effectively a contractor providing their services to you. The publisher is like a consultant. If they say make a trailer, you'd be wise to listen to them. That's how they earn their cut.

Another common sentiment is "it's not fair. I don't know anything about video/marketing/queries/etc." Sure it's fair. If you were expected to design a bridge or rebuild a carburetor as part of the publishing process, that would be unfair. You're a creative. If you can learn to write a book, you can learn to make a trailer, or at least learn to get a trailer made. The good news is no one expects you to change their lives in sixty seconds or 250 words. Refer to the above: convey the essence of your work. Be exciting. That's it!

Granted, plenty of book trailers we see out there are not very effective. Distilling a book's essence and capturing said essence in short form represents a challenge, and naturally some efforts fall short. Your job as a creative is not to fall short. Polish that query letter 'til it gleams and savagely trim that synopsis. Your job as a business person is to make sure your contractors don't fall short. If they're not capturing the essence of your work (in your trailer, in your website, in your promotional bookmarks) you're either not communicating effectively or you're working with the wrong person.

What say you, readers? Do I presume too much? Or should us writer-types apply our nose to the grindstone and broaden our horizons?

Brendan Gannon is a web developer and multimedia producer based in Boston. He writes YA/MG fiction and blogs at http://brendangannon.net. He thinks digital publishing and mobile apps are the bee's knees, but he's also very fond of paper.

Sing a Song of BISAC

Our discussion of genre sales over the past two weeks has brought something to my attention, mes auteurs: I've never properly explained to you exactly how genre classifications are established and handled.

The Book Industry Study Group (of which the vast majority of publishers, via the Association of American Publishers, are members) employs a system of BISAC (Book Industry Standards and Communications) codes, which provide a framework (both conceptual and technological) for identifying a title's genre.

The most recent BISAC code list can be found here; keep in mind that whatever you're writing is going to have to be coded under at least one of these categories (many books have a secondary or even tertiary BISAC code), so try not to go too bananas with your proposed genre (e.g. "it's a literary romantic psycho-suspense thriller with elements of science fiction Western").

I suppose you could go in under NON-CLASSIFIABLE if you felt you had to, but 1.) that's not super helpful, 2.) it won't make your book even remotely easy to find in book stores, and 3.) your code will be "NON000000," which is one of the more depressing-looking ones. It's almost as if the book is crying out for a better BISAC code ("No! NOOOOOOOOO").

So, for example, if you're writing paranormal romance, your BISAC code will be FIC027120 (FICTION / Romance / Paranormal). If you're writing a book about stamp collecting, you'll get ANT044000 (ANTIQUES & COLLECTIBLES / Stamps). They get pretty specific, so it's unlikely you'll write something that can't easily be mapped to the system.

If you're writing something that could just as easily be one genre as another (say, science fiction or thriller), it's no big deal to have one as your primary BISAC and the other as your secondary (though the primary will pretty much determine who buys the book at the larger accounts like Barnes & Noble and where the book will eventually live in the store).

All the details of BISAC coding will be handled by your publishing house, but if for some reason you're concerned about it, you can always ask via your agent. (Remember, kids: always ask your agent first!)

And now you know!

You And Technology: Mega Bros

There's been a lot of hand-wringing going on in the publishing industry regarding the rapid technological developments that seem to be constantly besieging it. More specifically, the wailing and gnashing of teeth has been going on for nigh six hundred years now, and every time something changes, The End is presumed near. To you I say: not so!

Whether you have your jerkin in a twist over movable type or are hyperventilating into a paper bag at the prospect of dealing with e-rights, have no fear: technology is, despite the insistence of some in the book world, your friend, and the better you know how to make use of it, the easier it will be for you to sell your books. Things are ever changing, mes auteurs, but the written word isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

First: if you don't know how to use a computer, now's the time to learn. Incidentally, I have no idea how you're reading this blog if you don't know how to use a computer, but I imagine someone might have made a daguerrotype for you and sent it by horseback, or maybe they printed it out and made mimeographs, or perhaps they're just reading it to you from the next room. Regardless, computers: learn how to use them.

Second: if you don't have a website, seriously think about getting one. Where else are you going to provide links to your book(s), aggregate your Facebook/Twitter/Blogger output, brag about your accomplishments, announce future events/readings, &c &c?

Third: writing requires research. Where does one conduct research? If you said "the library stacks," I have some news for you: ironic flannel is in, Grey Flannel is out, and anything acid-washed is super out. The Internet is the single most powerful and complete repository of human knowledge, useful and non-, ever invented, and the scholars at the legendary Library of Alexandria would have given their frontal lobes to browse through it for thirty seconds. Use it! (Both the Internet and your frontal lobes, that is.)

Finally: while I don't recommend it, if you absolutely insist on going your own way and self-publishing, there's a veritable panoply of options available to you now. You can print on demand! You can sell an e-book through Amazon! Your options are not limited to Usenet ASCII rants or .pdfs you made and linked to on your LiveJournal. You (perhaps with help) can create really great-looking POD books and/or e-books these days for very little money; if you're going to go solo, at least do it right.

I'm not saying any of you are Luddites or technologically illiterate, meine Autoren, but it's easy to be swayed against the rapid electronic evolution of the industry by a (very vocal) minority of myopic, stodgy publishing folk who are going into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming. Keep your eyes, ears, and minds open, seize any opportunities you find, and always look for newer and better ways to sell yourself and your writing.

Singles: Not Just for Kraft or eHarmony

In case you haven't heard, mes auteurs, Amazon is introducing Amazon Singles, a new variety of content aimed at providing Ye (We?) Unwashed Masses with 30- to 90-page chapbooks, novellas, pamphlets, and so on. From the article:

Ideas and the words to deliver them should be crafted to their natural length, not to an artificial marketing length that justifies a particular price or a certain format.

— Russ Grandinetti, Vice President for Kindle Content, Amazon

First of all, bravo, Amazon. Second of all, IT'S ABOUT TIME, I TOTALLY HAD THIS IDEA ALREADY. Like, over a year ago. It's a good thing we have the Internet these days for keeping track of things like this.

I believe the sale of e-chapbooks, e-novellas, and even (gasp!) e-short stories via Amazon will help revitalize two flagging genres of American writing: poetry and literary fiction. Don't want to take a chance on a début poetry collection? Try the shorter, cheaper chapbook. Not sure you want to buy that up-and-coming author's novel? Buy a short story or two. Only have a two-hour train ride and don't want to start a whole new book? Try an essay or a novella! Don't even get me started on the potential literary magazine renaissance.

The literary world is changing, bros and she-bros, and it's doing so very quickly. Smaller publishers have more opportunities now than ever before to showcase their (read: your) work electronically, so if you're not signed with one of the Big Six, don't despair—your publisher may be much nimbler and more savvy than a larger, more traditional house, and though you might not become the next J.K. Rowling, you certainly stand to gain a lot by having your work available to an ever-growing and (omni)voracious audience.

Again, however, I feel I should caution you: this does not mean an Internet free-for-all, and this does not mean that self-publishing is the way to go. I'm not saying you're stupid or impulsive, mes auteurs (far from it!), but simply because one can flood the Internet with work that hasn't been edited, marketed, or even reviewed by professionals—who, let's face it, sort of know what they're doing—doesn't mean one should.

Virtual Particles are the New Vampires

I've always considered myself something of a science buff, mes auteurs (although I find actually doing science, complete with statistics and differential equations, too taxing for my literary sensibilities), so I was surprised and delighted to read this article in the Telegraph about the recent rise in popularity of popular science books.

As noted in the article, if people were buying popular science books five or ten years ago, they were largely about evolutionary biology (and all the "religion versus science"-type arguments those books seem to entail). Recently, however—and, in my opinion, due in large part to physics projects like the Large Hadron Collider—popular science books about astrophysics, quantum mechanics, and parallel universes have seen unparalleled demand (pun totally intended). Books about evolution, biochemistry, and other scientific disciplines are selling, too, but it's the physics behind the structure, origin, and fate of the universe that seem to be intriguing The Reading Public these days.

I've been into popular physics since at least the late '90s, reading and re-reading Stephen Hawking (A Brief History of Time, The Universe in a Nutshell, A Briefer History of Time), Carl Sagan (Pale Blue Dot, The Demon-Haunted World, Billions and Billions), and Brian Greene (The Elegant Universe, The Fabric of the Cosmos), so while this trend may be new to a lot of people, it isn't for me (although I am, again, surprised and delighted). I will say I'm glad that more people are reading Asimov and Hawking, even if it doesn't balance out the number of people reading Stephenie Meyer and The Situation.

What I'm interested to know is: is this new and/or surprising to you, bros and she-bros? Do you regularly read popular science, and, if not, do you think you'll start doing so? Will you pick up a copy of The Grand Design or Why Evolution is True in the coming weeks or months? If so, why? If not, why not?

Bonus question: if a train leaves Boston at 5:00 pm traveling in a straight line toward Tallahassee at 90 MPH, and another train leaves Tallahassee at 7:00 pm traveling in a straight line toward Boston at 120 MPH, how long will it be before I fall asleep?