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Archive for the ‘eBooks’ Category

Limited

Monday, October 17th, 2011

Fiction print books conform to a limited set of word count brackets, and hence, page count, that have evolved as a result of financial limitations – namely the perceived value of a title in a specific genre, and the cost to print, bind and distribute each book. Most commercial fiction tends to float around the 300-page mark; readers of erotic fiction prefer shorter books (and more variety in their reading) and prefer to buy more, cheaper books; fans of the more dwarves-elves-and-dragons-type fantasy demand huge page counts, and are prepared to pay more. These are generalisations, but you can check the submission guidelines of any publisher to see that most ask for work within genre-specific limits.

In the middle ground of page counts, it’s a case of retail price versus reader expectation, but at the extremes of the range, it’s about the physics of printing. A 3000-word short can’t be bound with a flat spine, as there’s not enough depth of paper to glue the spine onto, and using an effectively flat jacket – as with most weekly magazines – looks cheap and devalues the product. A 200,000-word book can theoretically be bound, but it’ll break its spine the first time you open it.

My point is that the nature of printing has dictated page count. Until now.

eBooks increase in size at a very small rate as word count increases. A quick look at my book on Amazon reveals a file size of 488KB at 105,000 words with a to-spec, 221 KB  cover image and no other graphics. If I’d written 210,000 words, it’d be about 750 KB. A million? Just shy of 3 Meg. Hardly big numbers, given that a song from iTunes comes in about 10 Meg, and we throw album-fulls of those onto iPods without thinking twice.

In terms of distribution cost, there’s nothing stopping a writer producing books of a length far in excess of what is currently considered the norm. But why the hell would you?

eBooks are still subject to limitations within the market, and right now, that’s the price you can expect to charge. Text books and event fiction titles from name brand authors appear to be following the existing pricing curves, but publisher promos and self-publishers do seem to have established a new baseline cost for fiction, namely $0.99, or $2.99 if you think you can sell at that price. The curious twist is that that price point appears to be accepted as the fair rate for a title, regardless of how long that title is. With $0.99 as the minimum you can charge for a Kindle book, you can find quality short stories, novellas and novels at that price. At $2.99, you’d struggle to sell a short, but a novella or novel both fit. Beyond $2.99 is the realm of short story collections and full novels, but without a strong reputation and name recognition, you’d probably struggle to make significant sales at that price.

As a new writer publishing his own work, I’m firmly stuck in the $0.99-to-$2.99 camp, which is fine, as I have some distinguished company amongst my independent peers, but with such a limited scope for earnings on a single book, the equation (more books) > (longer books) makes clear business sense. In researching my next project, I’m looking for enough ideas to fill a book of 150 pages max, as what’s the point of writing it longer, when I could spend the time writing another title, which then has its own shot at that $0.99-$2.99 per unit?

Stories need to run their course, so there will always be long books, but I can’t be the only writer thinking this way, and I honestly believe that books are going to get shorter, on average, as a result. That’s fine with me, as I love shorter stories around the 150-200 page mark, but it may come as an unpleasant surprise to those eBook buyers currently sniffing out bargains.

 

Unused

Wednesday, October 12th, 2011

I spent a lot of time working on ideas for the new eBook cover for Make a Move, before realising I should just go with the original cover and stop over-thinking it. The problem with coming up with an idea was that it needed to be iconic, yet flexible enough to be able to modify into 7 different versions (six episodes and a complete series) while maintaining a theme. Most of the ideas we’re so-so and will never see the light of day, but I wanted to share this one, not least because I actually received approval from the director of the BBFC (David Cooke – the person whose signature is printed on every black card shown before BBFC-certified films in the UK). Click the thumbnail for the detail:

black_card_demo_2.gif

Sam Thomas and I had discussed parodying the BBFC black card more than once, but it really did seem to fit the need this time – specifically, if I was going to include all of each episode’s identifying text on the cover, I’d need a layout that supported it. This was the demo version I sent to the BBFC when asking permission to parody their intellectual property, and it was approved as being ok, but no closer… Nice people, and a nice experience.

Unfortunately, the nagging doubt that it’s just not that iconic outside the UK got to me, and I decided it wasn’t the right project to use the idea. That, and it’s illegible and unidentifiable in a product thumbnail.

Thought I’d share it anyway, not for any reason other than I think it’s cool.

 

Vivre La Difference

Saturday, October 8th, 2011

I’ve been working on breaking Make a Move into its individual episodes to sell as eBooks, but the effort involved in coming up with cover designs that are similar, yet flexible enough to differentiate between episodes has been holding me up. Call it perfectionism or procrastination, but I was stalled. Earlier this week, I read this blog post from Roz Morris (via Jane Friedman’s blog) about her latest novel, which she released in serial form. Seeing her covers and realising that I was missing the moment to do this gave me a kick in the ass, and I’ve just finished uploading the new split books to Amazon, all using episode-labeled versions of the existing cover.

Roz’s post holds some great advice on how to publish serial works (although I’m not comfortable with the idea of categorising a work of fiction using non-fiction categories – that feels like gaming the system to me, and has the potential to annoy readers), so it’s well worth reading if you’re planning to split a novel into episodes.

While I’ve been working this week, some cool news came out of Amazon regarding their new French Kindle store, which is great news for all authors (bigger market) but particularly great for me, given the French focus of my book. With the launch of the Amazon.fr channel in the back of my mind, and while otherwise thinking of the benefits of serial publication:

  • Greater visibility/discoverability
  • Greater number of potential tags/search results
  • Option to give part one away for free if publishing on Smashwords too

another benefit occurred to me.

Amazon’s KDP program allows 7 keyword tags per book. That’s not a lot, so you’d never want to waste a single one on a redundant tag, but with a serialised book, you have (in the case of Make a Move) 6 times the number for the episodic releases, and another 7 for the collected edition. That’s 49 tags, and I can definitely “waste” a few of those. Now, while French and German book buyers will be looking for English language books (the rates of English speaking in those countries is orders of magnitude higher than the number of Americans/British with a second language), that doesn’t mean that they aren’t performing a significant number of native language searches too, which will completely miss your book. By taking some of your tags, translating them into French and German (I recommend Google Translate) and spreading them across a couple of episodes of your book, you can get your work to feature in those searches.

It’s not a major leap in discoverability tricks, but if you had a book you thought would appeal to readers in those markets, wouldn’t you want to give them every chance to find it?

To Be Me, Or Not To Be Me

Wednesday, October 5th, 2011

I’m working on a couple of writing projects right now that share little common ground with my debut book, Make a Move, and my initial instinct was to publish them under a pseudonym. However, as a self-published writer, I need all of the cross-selling opportunities I can get, and hiding those connections between books could well be shooting myself in the foot. While pen names are used for creative and personal reasons, I suspect that most are employed to satisfy a business need, specifically to allow marketing departments to keep their author brand clean, or to allow readers to understand the genre into which an author fits.

But which is it?

I ask because I’m not too bothered about my author brand. As a writer in control of my own output, I’ve no one telling me what to write, and I intend to exploit that opportunity to the point of abuse. I don’t, however, want to alienate readers by “conning” them into believing I’m only going to be one type of writer, when the next book could share no trace of DNA with the previous one. Yes, it’ll always be my voice, but is that enough?

Given the metadata surrounding eBooks – the myriad opportunities to communicate with a potential buyer before they commit to a purchase – do they provide digital-only writers with a blank canvas upon which to paint their career, or does too much freedom dilute the relationship between authors and readers, to the point that the readers lose trust and look elsewhere?

Softbooks

Monday, March 7th, 2011

It’s easy to be negative, much harder to be balanced. Everyone has an agenda, and a balanced opinion makes it harder to push. When I first commented to someone – online or off – that I thought the business model of traditional publishing was broken, I had an agenda; I was trying to justify my decision (at least to myself) to put out a print run of Make a Move myself, rather than keep submitting it to UK publishing houses of all sizes. A year or so later, I’m a lot more relaxed about my decision, for a variety of reasons, so I don’t have an agenda colouring my opinion. Do I still think the traditional publishing business model is broken? Yeah. Or, more specifically (and less flippantly) I don’t think any of the major houses have demonstrated that their models are fit to compete in the electronic realm.

But rather than be negative, I’ll try to be balanced by suggesting a fix. Saying something’s “broken” is pointless commentary unless you can state, clearly and with neither emotion nor agenda, what “fixed” is.

A couple of weeks ago, I was looking on Amazon for a book on audio mixing. I’d already bought one title for my Kindle (the well-written and professionally converted Zen and the Art of Mixing by Mixerman) but I wanted something more in-depth. A friend of mine did a degree in audio engineering, and has a load of books on the subject, but they’re all over ten years old, and a lot of the technology described within has moved on to the point of being unrecognisable, so I wanted something published within the last couple of years. I found Mixing Audio – Concepts, Practices and Tools by Roey Izhaki, and it has a Kindle edition, but I decided to go for the print copy for a few of reasons:

  • It was only £2.21 more than the Kindle version
  • It comes with a DVD, that I then won’t have to download
  • I can lend it to my friend when I’m done

The second point is just laziness on my part, but the first and third could have been predicted and negated by the publisher. The point about lending is a contentious one, as legally, I’ve bought the book for personal use, and don’t pay the publisher for lending rights. Fair enough, but it’s a bit… backwards. Many software programs allow you multiple installs within certain, fair, scenarios. I’m thinking of audio plugins from Stillwell and Cytomic, but that’s just where I’m at right now. Other, much larger, companies are moving to the same kind of thinking. And that got me thinking.

I’ve bought books that teach software or technology, read them, and each time a new version of the product is released, I’ve just read up on the changes from the website; I’ll never buy a new release of that book again. But eBooks, in their simplest form, are software. You don’t buy a full license each time a new version is released; you buy a much cheaper upgrade. And you always buy it, because you like software, and you want the latest and greatest.

I ordered the Roey Izhaki book, and I’m reading it now, but once I’ve read it, I’ll never buy a subsequent edition. It’s too expensive for the 20%-or-so of updated content you’d get in that full-price printed book. If the eBook came with updates – new editions at discounted prices to the owners of previous versions, as confirmed by your Amazon purchase history, I’d have bought it. I’d have bought it because the eBook, even at the same price, offered better long-term value. Never mind colour, or video, or embedded sounds (I can download them from the website once I pull my finger out…) upgrades to content that becomes quickly outdated are a serious value-add, at little cost to the publisher, that don’t impact future sales, of which there won’t be any anyway.

So that’s my suggestion for a new business model; find out how your customers want to use your products, and work with your distributor to allow them to do it, and pay you for the privilege.

 

A Wider Review

Monday, November 29th, 2010

I just wrote a Goodreads review for The Lie by Chad Kultgen, and it was the first time I’ve reviewed a book and felt compelled to comment on the conversion to eBook format. I felt compelled because it was the best conversion I’ve seen since I started reading eBooks. Aside from the error-free conversion, the digital typesetter had used some intelligent formatting touches that enhanced the appearance of the text without breaking the accessible nature of the Kindle’s default formatting. After the last-but-one eBook I read, which I returned to Amazon for a refund based on the poor quality of the conversion, it was reassuring.

A friend of mine shared her first Kindle experience with me last week, and although the story grabbed her, and the Kindle as a reading experience has snagged a new convert to the eBook cause, the formatting errors annoyed her and undermined the experience. And again, this was from a big publisher.

I remember when High Definition DVDs first hit the shops; the review magazines would review the content – the film – but would also comment on the quality of the conversion from the usually-celluloid source. They don’t do it any more, as the quality is now a given, but at first, when the distributors were dredging the back catalogue for titles to convert, there were some films that just weren’t of sufficient quality.

That’s where I see us right now with eBooks; titles are being rushed out onto the digital shelves, and quality is suffering. There’s no excuse; it’s not hard to produce a quality conversion, but the impact of a bug-ridden text on the reader can be enough to see them leave the book unfinished. Which is why I’m going to be reviewing both the book (the intellectual property) and the conversion in each of my Goodreads eBook reviews from now on. And in the hope that you’ll write a review that will reassure me or warn me off from a bad conversion, I ask that all of you Goodreads reviewers do the same.

 

Value = x

Monday, October 18th, 2010

Ignoring religious texts – which I’m not touching, even with a virtual ten-foot pole – it’s safe to say that if you saw someone burning a book, most people would react in a negative way. Disbelief, discomfort, anger, pity – whatever the extent, most people wouldn’t feel happy seeing the cover of even the cheapest, nastiest paperback curling as the flames took hold.

And yet most people will throw a magazine, with the same cover price as a paperback, into the recycling with no more regret than if it was used toilet paper.

Why is that? Seriously – it’s not a rhetorical question. I really need to know, as it might be the answer to my problem of having a houseful of books I’m unable to give away. I had to buy my first comic box at the weekend, as I’ve no more room on my bookcases for any more single comics. As in 32 pages. I don’t have room for 32 more pages, yet I can’t give any books away. They’re not worth enough to make the effort of selling them worthwhile, and I could re-buy any I wanted to re-read, so it’s not a financial decision. And it’s not about the pose-value of owning so many, as I happily display the complete shite alongside the classics. I just feel very, very uncomfortable at the idea of giving them away.

I’ll happily recycle a magazine, even though the (admittedly transient) content will be lost in its current form, unlike a book, whose text will live on, somewhere, forever. There’s just something about books – something that’s more than the sum of the pages and ink and glue and cover.

I don’t know what it is, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot, as I juggle books from shelf to shelf, trying to find an inch of space in a zero-sum game, looking at my Kindle, and its ultimately-disposable contents. And it’s something that other people should be thinking about, as it’s a property that’s missing from eBooks, and magazines, and electronic magazines, and pay-to-view news sites. I honestly dont know what it is – this value – that printed books have, but regardless of how the percentages of paper vs digital book sales skew, eBooks will never have it, and readers will never pay print prices for it.

 

Gutterball

Wednesday, October 13th, 2010

A common complaint aimed at self-published books is the lack of quality control, specifically in the proofreading and typesetting. I’ve not read enough self-published books to be able to definitively validate this complaint, but if you look at a page of new releases on Smashwords – any page – you’ll find at least one book with typos in the book description. Not just loose or minimalist grammar, but actual typos. Do you want to bet the purchase price on the quality of the manuscript? Neither do I.

Aim For Quality

Getting a book ready for sale is hard, and formatting for a particular eReader is a big part of that. The KindleGen tools Amazon provide are not intuitive, and it took me a long time to research the process online, learn the tricks and traps, and produce a product I was happy with. Even the Kindle Previewer application missed a bug in my HTML that didn’t show up until I tested it on an actual Kindle. It’s not easy, but I think it’s worth the effort, as the automated conversions available play towards the Kindle’s default formatting, and that doesn’t allow you the control you need to nail the layout. I don’t want first-line indents on the opening paragraph of each episode/scene, but the Kindle, by default, will add them, so I overrode them. The monospaced font is too big compared to the default font, so I manually overrode the font size for a script section, setting it -1 size relative to the current base font (and honouring the users’ right to adjust the size to their taste). Neat formatting touches are another way to add quality to the product – the kind of quality you’d expect from a “traditionally published” eBook. If you want to compete with the mainstream, you have to match the quality of their output. “Good enough” just isn’t, well, good enough.

Accept no Substitutes

I was so happy when I got my Kindle for my birthday; I’d been holding off buying/reading a list of books so I could fill it with content – traditionally published and self-published – and just dive in. In the first week I jumped between collections of short stories, novellas and non-fiction before finally choosing the first novel I woud read. I was about two pages in when I spotted the first typo; nothing major – just a missing opening quote. I shrugged it off and got back into the story. But not for long. A slow-burner, most pages were action/description until people started meeting up about 5% of the way in, so the errors weren’t as prevalent, but by the time the protagonists met and started to talk, I was counting five or six typos. Per page.

Large blocks of text were missing opening quotes, leaving you half way through a line before you realised the speaker had changed, and there were other typos – obvious formatting errors where letters had been replaced. Now, I know I’m not an average reader; I was a bit OCD about typos before I became obsessed about the quality of my own work and trained myself to hunt them down, but this would be distracting for any reader. Me? I was completely kicked out of the story, and didn’t know what the hell was going on. I persevered to 10%, but then called it a day. I was mad. I emailed Amazon support and asked for a refund and for them to scrub the book from my Kindle, and even though I was past the seven-day return window, they agreed. My argument was that the book was not of a saleable standard and that it should be removed from sale until a corrected version was available. They said they’d contacted the relevant party and had passed on my comments.

So, who was the DIY author who’s careless conversion so offended me?

It was…

Wait for it…

Not… an indie.

It was a book from a publishing house. A big publishing house. One of the biggest publishing houses.

And it wasn’t cheap.

Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter

I’m not going to say what the book was, firstly because I have a submission with the publisher in question right now, and secondly because it’s not the author’s fault – they had no part in the conversion – and they don’t deserve to lose any more sales (although, sharp-eyed friends on Goodreads may notice my to-read shelf is missing a book, but let’s keep it a secret between us).

I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. The print version of the book could never go out in this condition, and conversion is surely a case of reworking the final manuscript draft into HTML, so what had gone so wrong in the process? I’ve been working as a professional writer for a long time, and I’ve used most processes involved in getting text onto paper, so it didn’t take long to spot the clues and work it out. Example: on numerous occasions, “ll” was replaced with “U”. Kind of looks the same if you squint, right? Another example: “some_word?” was replaced with “some_wordY“. Again, you can see that the characters are in the same league, if not the same ballpark.

I’ve converted a lot of text, and I know that basic characters – the core alphabet – are never changed unless you overwrite them on purpose. Mathematical symbols, accented characters, even things like double-quotes and em-dashes can easily get nuked across devices, but you’re safe with “ll”. The only way those mistakes made it into the text were from OCR – Optical Character Recognition – the process whereby printed text is scanned into a computer, which then converts the graphical interpretation of the characters into editable text. Usually by guessing, as I’ve yet to see an OCR system that’s even 90% accurate. Yep – somebody mashed that book flat onto a scanner or photocopier and scanned every page into a computer. You know how else I know? The character substitutions aren’t consistent; it only happens some of the time. This, in addition to the fact that it was opening – not closing – quotes going missing, is a result of the person scanning the book not being able to get the pages flat due to the spine curve; the more the text curves into the gutter margins, the less accurate the scan, and therefore the OCR.

So what? Maybe this is a perfectly legitimate way to convert a print book to electronic format? Maybe the original digital manuscripts of this (very recent) book were lost? Maybe it’s cheaper to farm out conversion to a third-party using unskilled labour to manually scan-in the books? Maybe I’m just being naïve?

And maybe someone at the publisher should have got it proofread.

The Weakest Link

I’m mad as hell about this, as you can probably tell, given the length of this post. But I’m not mad as a reader/consumer (like I said, I got a refund). I’m mad as a DIY author-publisher. I need eBooks to be a success in order to maintain my distribution platform. Without eBooks, I can’t sell beyond the UK. Hell, beyond Greater Manchester is difficult. Publishers are fighting to maintain revenues on eBooks, while customers are pushing to reduce cover prices. Perceived value is everything in this intangible market; when text is all you’re selling, it has to be correct, even if the story sucks. Anyone selling poorly converted content is undermining that value perception – whether inadvertently or not – and is directly impacting eBook adoption.

So many people point to the self-published books “flooding” the eBook market as the weak link in the business model, but anyone, no matter how well-respected, can step into that role, and the more respected the source, the more damage is done.

 

My Personal Reading Revolution

Sunday, September 12th, 2010

T minus two days until I get my Kindle, and I’m a bit excited about it. Aside from all the books I’ve been planning to load onto it (Spook Country by William Gibson will be the first purchase – given the author’s contribution to technological free-thinking, it seems appropriate) it’s finally going to let me get into the backlist of indie books I’ve been meaning to read for while.

29 Jobs and a Millions Lies by Jennifer Topper was the first eBook I tried reading on a screen, but I got tired of the scrolling, too-high-contrast text, as it was stopping me from losing myself in the story. I think that was the first time I seriously considered an eReader; if I was going to find new, original works from the periphery of publishing, I’d need a mechanism to consume them.

I did toy with the idea of shelling out the large cash for an iPad, but as I’m typing this on a laptop, lying in bed, I couldn’t see the attraction. Plus, as I watch my battery indicator tick down past 20 minutes left, I know I’ve made the right choice of reading platform.

So this post isn’t a prediction, or an opinion, or a review; it’s just me sharing my thoughts – that I’m about to join the eBook evolution as a reader rather than a writer, and I have no idea what it’s going to change. I know one thing won’t change – story, which is all I’m really interested in – but for everything else, all bets are off.

 

Why I’m Cheating on Mark Coker

Saturday, August 7th, 2010

Background

Smashwords – Mark Coker’s open-to-all eBook publishing and distribution portal – is, in my opinion, the biggest thing to happen to books and publishing in a long time. Create an account, upload a Word document of your manuscript, and your book is converted to all eBook formats and distributed to all of the major eBook retailers. Smashwords collect revenues from the retailers and pass the money onto you minus a 15% commission. They even give you a free ISBN.

How freaking awesome is that?

Yes, Smashwords is inundated with books of questionable merit (every day you’ll see new books with word counts optimistically in the “novella” range, with misspelled blurbs, priced for $9.95) , but Mark and his team have opened the market to ALL writers. Curation is just a view – a subset – of the book list, and any and all critics can step in to fulfil that function. I’m happy with the weaker books being out there, as I know there are some real gems – original, if uncommercial works – just waiting to be found. Smashwords, in my eyes, can do no wrong.

But…

Even though my book is being distributed to Sony, Kobo Books, Apple iBooks and was on Barnes and Noble before I opted out of that distribution option, it’s not on Amazon Kindle, and that’s the biggest retailer of eBooks by a long, long way, no matter who’s publishing their optimistic, massaged sales figures this week. If I’m going to achieve anything like notable sales, that’s where I need to be.

Mark explained the Amazon position from the start – that they wanted extended formatting options, which the Meatgrinder (Smashword’s automated conversion system) didn’t support – and I was fine with that as it was his priority to rectify the situation and get the books over to Amazon. But that was the message from when I uploaded Make a Move in April, and it’s now August. When the UK release of the Kindle was announced (the real release, not the mid-Atlantic hack that’s been in place until now) I knew I had to have my book on the Kindle store, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I downloaded the Kindle formatting guidelines, and conversion and testing tools, and I started converting my Word manuscript to HTML.

OCD

I was never happy with the automated book conversion Smashwords produced; the main problem was that my first-line non-indents were ignored, and I hate how it looks. Unfortunately, I followed the formatting guide to the letter, so I don’t know how I can fix that. I left it as it was, which is fine (the words are the important part) but it still bothers me. Now, with my Kindle Preview app which replicates how the text will display on the Kindle hardware, I can test and test and test, and fix anything that isn’t working. I’m a technical writer by trade, and a Virgo, so you can imagine how satisfying this is for me. Even though I’m hand-coding the HTML, the level of control I have is worth it.

An Uncomfortable Situation

So Smashwords aren’t shipping to Kindle, and now I am, so no harm, no foul. Except that Mark announced this week that they will be shipping to Amazon soon, and that the Meatgrinder upgrades are close to finished. So now I’m in the position of bypassing the distributor – a position with which I’m not 100% comfortable. It would be easy just to select the “opt-in to Amazon distribution” option on Smashwords and sit back, and I have been tempted, but I’ve tasted the level of formatting control Amazon’s DIY tools afford me, and I’m loathe to let it go. Not to mention the week of very late nights I’ve spent working on the conversion.

I guess it comes down to timing; I’m too far along now to quit. And I know I’m denying Smashwords their 15% commission on any Amazon sales, but time is money – my time is money – and after the effort I’ve put into this conversion, I think I deserve that 15%. I’m planning to have the book on the store in the next week or so – definitely before the August 27th UK Kindle release – so if you’re buying a Kindle, you’ll be able to see if my work was worth it.