Monday 27 February 2012

Publishers and the reading public

Generally I think the majority of publishers do a brilliant job. People like Amanda Hocking might not think so, but I think there's a lot to be said for providing professional criticism, marketing, and the rest. As crunchycat put it so well on the Guardian books blog the other day (a propos of the article announcing J K Rowling's new books for adults):


So there's the necessary summary about why we still need publishers.


That said, working in a bookshop has shown me some of the things publishers are lacking, or are still refusing to do:


1. If you're going to do a series, please number the books or at the very least provide a clear running order at the start of the book. It might be clear to you that Port Mortuary is Patricia Cornwell's most recent book, but not everyone know this. The problem becomes compounded when an author releases a gazillion titles a year and readers just can't keep up (James Patterson) or when an author releases multiple series (a particularly common problem in crime and genre fiction). Despite the buzz over recent years, very few people actually know the running order to the Jo Nesbo and Steig Larsson titles. I still have to check Edward St Aubyn, especially as Some Hope is the name of an individual title of the Melrosiad, and the name of a trilogy - which itself isn't the complete collection, so that's a bit confusing for readers, too. This might sound like a small irritation but actually, publishers, it loses you sales. If someone can tell instantly that the book they are holding in their hand is the sequel to the on their bedside cabinet - they buy it, right away. If they can't, they fanny about and decide to go home and re-read the previous one. I see this happen all the time. It takes very little to number the spines/provide a running order, yet it is so useful for reader and bookseller! 


Honourable mention to Harper here, because their series of Bernard Cornwell's Sharpe novels have (a) really lovely jacket designs and (b) the date of each book (e.g. 'December 1803' or '1805') on the spine and the front cover, so you can work out from the dates the order (assuming you have all the books, which most of his fans will). It's not hard and it is pretty.




                           

The jacket designers at Harper Collins: not just pretty faces!




2. Please don't release white hardbacks. I have no doubt that the sales of Julianna Baggot's Pure, recently released, have suffered because half of the release run is comprised of white hardbacks. Really? Who buys white stuff? It just gets dirty! See also: There But For The by Ali Smith, and Wish You Were Here by Graham Swift, both released in white hardback format in 2011 (though glad to report that the paperback of GS came out this week - get to a bookshop, now!). Both brilliant books, and generally well received - but of course no-one wanted to buy them because of course it'll get damaged in handbags/dirty on the tube/coffee-stained etc. Now, I realise that publishers do still have to release hardbacks - I'm not calling for the end of the hardback. But, that said, please can everyone stop thinking that James Daunt is a messiah and that his view on hardbacks (in short: it's essential to have beautiful books in the age of the e-book, and hardbacks are beautiful) are what the entire reading and book-buying public thinks too. Because it's not. People like cheap paperbacks they can chuck in their bag or show their friends in the pub, not something that requires archivist gloves to read. Whilst I object to the excessive number of hardbacks on the market, I do understand why they're there. But for the love of God, why must they be white?!


The general exception to this point would be the hardback release of Julian Barnes' The Sense of an Ending




This was a perfect size (admittedly, when the text is only 150 or so pages it's hard to get it wrong) and the perfect price (£12.99). The off-white cover and dark pages meant less worry about ruining it. A brilliant example of a physically beautiful book.


NB: I should point out that the edition pictured is - I'm pretty sure - a first edition. JB won the David Cohen prize many months before even being nominated for the Booker, and the earlier editions laud this earlier nomination. The later editions had white pages with white edges, not white pages with black edges, but I think my point still stands. Also, given the vast quantities of this book sold, there will be thousands of people with the first/second editions. Including me!


3. Please think about adding extra book-only content. If I can buy something on a kindle for 99p or pay £8 for the privilege of it taking up space in my house, I think I deserve more for my money, some tacit acknowledgement of supporting bookshops and traditional formats. I know margins are tight enough as they are, but adding extra content can potentially be very easy to do. Some publishers, especially those who've had book group-friendly titles, are cottoning onto this. Some books now have, for example, suggested reading group exercises, or author profiles in the back, with decent interviews. This is the sort of clever publishing I like. Cheap to produce, but you'd not know it to read it - yet adds a little something extra to the Kindle/generic e-reader version. Something to remind you why you buy books




4. This is less based on my experience with buyers, and more on my own personal irritations, but please don't ever fool yourself that 'Berlin, 1939' or 'Vienna, 1913' or 'London, 1979' qualifies as decent blurb. It's really bloody irritating. Argh! Does it really add so much to the story? Do you have to be so crass with it? 'Berlin 1939' = horrific war time story, families coming apart, mustn't forget the love story though. 'Vienna 1913' = pre-WW1 whirligig. 'London 1979' = hedonism. Yes, we all get this! Please make your blurb a bit more interesting. Nothing turns me off quicker. It's ridiculous to think you offer up something genuinely exciting and new in such a hackneyed phrase, so don't even try. 

The above list will no doubt grow. When I go back to work tomorrow I'll no doubt spot a million other things to add here. That said, if anyone does want to give me a job....

2 comments:

  1. Obviously you know more about this than I do, so I was wondering, aren't publishers trying to get people to shift to digital sales? I agree that having actual books is better and I know there are enough people who feel the same for there to always be a market for it, but I would have thought publishers were trying to move sales that way. I don't really know why they wouldn't be trying to put extra incentives in e-books instead, as presumably the overheads for digital sales are lower? It would be nice to get them in proper books but I can't envisage it happening.

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  2. Glad you're feeling better.

    People who think conventional publishing is inferior to self-publishing are ignorant and wind me up. And crunchycat misspelt "substitute", gloriously proving her point.

    1. They usually have a list on the inside front pages. It seems like a good simple idea, but if it is, why isn't it being done already? Those Sharpe covers are wack, I like them. Much nicer than the older ones.

    There is also one crime series called things like "A is for Attorney", "T is for Triple Homicide", and I think the author's going for the full 26 books.

    2. What's your issue with hardbacks? Seriously. It might be worth a post of its own?

    3. Yes, but you're asking publishers to subsidise booksellers...

    4. This is good practice though - you can distil a whole paragraph into "New York, 1861" or what have you, and use that extra space to describe *your* heroic abolitionists, brave conscripts, and moustache-twirling plantation owners rather than everybody's... Is "1979" a typo for "1969"? Not that I lived through either, you understand.

    A.

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