Yesterday was the last day for the dedicated book review, and it makes me sad to know it’s gone, but if you didn’t see it coming, you weren’t paying attention. To blame the Internet for the demise of the LATBR is to address part of the problem. Yes, book lovers are increasingly online, and one key reason, as I’ve said many times, is because the LATBR simply didn’t serve its community. There are other forces at work as well.

Let’s start with one absolute truth: Sam Zell has no business owning a newspaper. When he bought the Tribune company, I knew it was going to be bad, and it’s worse than even I’d imagined. This is a Pulitzer Prize-winning paper and has had some of the best reporting of its tenure in the past decade or so. The LAT has incredible writers on its team. They’re going to kill this paper because they don’t understand the news business. It’s going to be an expensive mistake for Zell and a huge loss for the community.

Another truth: the Tribune/Zell companies simply didn’t do a good job of migrating the newspaper to the web. For many years, they saw the Internet as competition. Then they tried to recreate the look and feel of a newspaper online. Then, well, who knows? Ask people who use the LAT website, and you’ll hear a lot of frustration. In 2008, the paper can’t even get search right. Steps are being made in the right direction, but the incessant focus on paying back Sam Zell’s loans at the expense of the actual newspaper isn’t going to help the LAT.

I am, as we all know, an elitist (who is doing the white girl terrorist fist bump), but I’m also a realist. Those who believe the death of the LATBR is a heresy note that the the sports section does not make any money (it does seem to generate some advertising), though that’s a false argument. People subscribe for the sports coverage. I believe that if the sports section were cut, we’d hear a massive hue and cry, with a commensurate level of unsubscribes. The sports section serves its community.

We’re not getting that with the LATBR cut, and I believe it’s because the section was not valuable to most readers. Look at the demographics of the city, the general readership, and while it’s nice to have a dedicated section of the newspaper targeted toward a narrow section of the population, it’s hard to justify from a numbers perspective — even before the Zell era, this was an issue.

While I want to believe Steve Wasserman’s (who is also a guest on the program, and I regret that we were different studios and didn’t meet in person) number of 300,000 avid weekly readers, I just can’t. I often fall back on my real reader example, and the real readers I know (who aren’t in the industry, as we know it) really don’t turn to the LATBR. Yet they are avid about (literary) fiction, in touch with what’s hot, and buying books at prices the industry desires. They’re getting their information — and discourse — from other sources. I mean, it was hard enough before the Current/LATBR thingy to find the section. If I didn’t get to the paper first and very carefully cull the section from the ads, then the husband would have tossed it with the rest of the stuff that didn’t look like newspaper.

The LATBR managed to improve somewhat under David Ulin, but the section was killed before he could make an impression. It really died a long time ago. But I still maintain that a book review section in a major newspaper should be reflective of the subscriber base, even if it’s trying to maintain a certain level of discourse; you have to bring the larger audience in, even a little bit, if you want to expose your conversation beyond the choir.

I believe that the greatest failure of the LATBR was its inability to convince more citizens of LA that it had value to them — it’s possible to have serious literary discourse side by side with a little bit of what a friend described as the People model. I don’t believe that making the section more relevant for a broader readership is the same thing as dumbing it down. Smart readers should be courted, not locked out.

As we all know, smart women read romance. And literary fiction. And mystery. And science fiction. And a whole lot of other stuff. And women buy more books than men. The LATBR often felt like a gentleman’s club — the books reviewed, the reviewers, the subject matter. This is largely reflective of it top editorial staff, but it’s also a reflection of the value placed on “women’s” fiction and issues. Some weeks it was if there was a “No Girls Allowed” sign on the LATBR.

Is it so much to ask that the book review section of our common newspaper brings those aspects of reading life together? The failure, if I can put it in overly simplistic terms, was to convince the romance reader who likes literary fiction that there was cool, exciting stuff to be found in the LATBR. This is the reader who’d be excited to find new books, but that reader who picked up the weekly review and found this weird no man’s (or no woman’s) land [see note below]. If there was a bridge, even a small bridge, imagine how things would be.

It’s fine to have a high level of discussion about books, but I think it’s equally important to have the discussion in a way that feels inclusive. The Wasserman et al letter reminded me of the conversation this industry had a year ago. There was a sense of entitlement in the hand-wringing about book review cuts, a sense that we should have this dedicated section in a newspaper because, well, we should. If you’re serving a general population of millions, as newspapers do, then you have to explain your relevance. How do you explain this to the immigrant community who might just now be discovering books (Ulin, to his credit, has done a lot more toward reaching out to the Hispanic reader than Wasserman).

There needs to be more balance. The LATBR reflected the mores of its editors, and that would be fine if the section were like many literary journals in that they were financially supported. It’s not enough to say that this kind of book coverage is necessary because it will save society because, well, I’m not sure it’s proven that it will. Rock and roll didn’t kill music. Television didn’t kill live theater. Maybe it’s better to listen to what the Philistines are saying. Reflecting the vision of an individual, or small group of individuals, is not, sadly, feasible in today’s newspaper environment. There are better ways to accomplish this goal.

I asked then as I ask now: what are you doing to save this entity you find so important? Writing letters and editorials simply isn’t enough. Preaching to the choir makes for a fun a pity party, but what about convincing the people who read and buy books of your value? Let’s be perfectly frank — most readers of fiction don’t read “literary fiction”, but they’re willing and eager to expand their horizons if a good curator can help them. Why should a mass media publication focus on the very few in favor of the majority? What value do you offer those readers, the ones who are largely supporting your habit?

It would, if I may, come down to a matter of choice. Newspapers, yes, have distinct points of view, but they generally reflect the opinions of the community at large. Or they die. In many ways, this failure can be placed with the editors of the LATBR. They, yes, created a great publication, but they failed to create a publication that reflected the wants and needs of the community.

Like many others, I have gone online to find the type of literary discussion I enjoy — this means I’m reading about reading in a broad way. A little of this type of book, a little of that. It’s easy to find voices I agree with and trust and opinions I don’t. There might be looser writing, less editorial oversight, but there is absolute passion about books. Passion matters because it moves people to explore and expand.

It is a bit precious to suggest that a mass market newspaper support a specific-interest section without the latter giving something back to the community at large. As evidenced by the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, the wants and desires of the Los Angeles reading public far exceed what the LATBR offered them. As with the war in Iraq, I feel for the soldiers — the reviewers, the writers — who have lost their platform, but I don’t feel for the generals who failed to see the broader implications of their choices. I just don’t. There are better ways to achieve the bigger goals.

Have you noticed the lack of accountability, the lack of introspection on the part of those who decry the decline of the newspaper book review (with some exceptions)? Have you noticed that so few have looked at what they gave the public versus what the public wanted or needed? How they haven’t said, “We could have done better by our readership.” How they haven’t said, “We made mistakes.”

I have no patience for the entitlement argument, because, well, even if I did, it’s a lost cause. As long as the publishing industry continues to support the New York Times Book Review with advertising dollars — and publishing industry, you do have some serious culpability here — then that will likely survive. But the pristine mass market newspaper section is dead. Sorry. Gone.

The only question on the table is how to integrate book coverage into today’s newspaper…and today’s newspaper is being redefined so rapidly that there isn’t a single answer. I’m sort of hoping we’ll see a return to the newspaper of history, not this corporate behemoth that must put shareholders ahead of news. This means that those who advocate for literary discourse in the broader public arena created by newspapers must make peace with the other aspects of publishing — the popular fiction, the popular non-fiction, the technical writing, the non-traditional publishing, the world we live in.

Only then can we save the newspaper book review.

Note: Carolyn Kellogg, who blogs for the LAT’s Jacket Copy took me to task a bit for my comments on gender imbalance in the Book Review. I agree with her that the situation has greatly improved these past few years. My comments related to the past, and I still believe the (probably unintentional as I don’t think the leadership was deliberately sexist) gender bias didn’t serve the book review well.

Recently I linked to an article that I retitled “On Conclusions Without Proof”. It was typical article that suggested that bloggers are simply better suited to reactionary writing. Bloggers, or maybe blogs, the distinction not quite clear in the article (and the distinction, while not critical, is something worth exploring), simply are not capable of “…lengthy reflection and slow maturation” when it comes to exploring ideas.

Lordy, you have to wonder what sort of vendetta William Skidelsky’s editors have against him — surely that is the only reason they would allow him to write such drivel without proper editorial counsel. The article, first published in ”’Prospect Magazine”’ (public service: people at Prospect, there’s something weird going on with your security certificates), ostensibly discussed the decline of literary criticism in newspapers. By decline I mean lack of column inches, not the lack of quality (though I have strong suspicions that there is a quality issue at the root of this development).

While there are many types of blogs — what started as a type of online diary has matured into an entire entity with sets and subsets — I am primarily interested in those blogs that discuss literature (in the broadest sense of the term) in the text format. Videoblogs and podcasts and photo blogs are other animals, though they provide equal service to the cause. The blogs that I am discussing range from “hey I read this book” types to long thoughtful discourse about literary issues.

A typical literary review has sections: reviews, critical analysis, short thoughts on books, short thoughts on the industry, a calendar of events, and advertising. Mix and match to create your own literary review. Some blogs also mirror this all-encompassing approach to literary information. Others focus intently on single topics, be it a genre or region or aspect of the publishing world. Still others find a type of middle ground. Given the general funding level of the average blog, it makes perfect sense that one would focus on an area that inspires passion and interest in the author. Sure, it might take several sites to achieve what is accomplished in the more compact confines of a newspaper, but that’s how life goes.

With this diversity of options comes diversity of perspective. Man, you gotta love diverse perspectives. Individual voices. Writers who don’t answer to higher corporate gods. Once upon a time, and I wildly paraphrase the discussion, author par excellence Tod Goldberg reminded me that the editor of a newspaper review section was free to impose his or her vision on the publication. While I still believe that a more populist approach would better serve the larger entity — the newspaper as a whole — I concede that editorial vision is the right of the editor (knowing, of course, that editors answer to their own masters).

This means that traditional print publications are held hostage to a set of mores that change only when leadership changes. The editor chooses the direction. The editor has final say in what is reviewed and not reviewed. In Skidelsky’s piece, he seems to revel in the decision of one publication’s assertion to author Susan Hill that

“no book either published or written by you will in future be reviewed on our literary pages.”

It is a right, of course, of the editorial staff to make this decision. These decisions are made all the time; it is a fact that far more books are published than reviewed. The effect on the literary discussion is that it is often limited — to the taste of those at the top. Whether or not these editorial choices serve the community at large is seemingly irrelevant…until that moment when pages are cut due to financial concerns. While it is all very well and good to support literary criticism at cocktail parties, publishing — all publishing — is a business. No traditional print venue, and some online entities, will continue to support a loss leader forever.

Blogs, and more particularly bloggers, are filling the wide gap between this editorial vision and the desires of the community. The New York Times famously neglected the female voice when it came to analyzing literature (they have made some significant improvement these past few years). The Los Angeles Times remains infatuated with books about old and new Hollywood with a smattering of California history for those who want to look beyond the mission. Both of these publications have limited themselves and their audiences.

It remains to be seen how long the NYTBR will exist in its current format and size. Being an industry paper — a sort of ”’Variety”’ if you will — gives it an edge, but dollars are dollars and all publications of a certain type of business model must appear before the budget committee at some point in time. If you are not financially sustainable, then you must provide a service to the community, a service they desire to the point where the financial model doesn’t matter so much (or, perhaps, where they will withdraw financial support if they lose this service).

I apologize for being so crass in discussing the economic realities at play. Publishing — books and newspapers — has not been a gentleman’s game for many decades now. The powers that be have different priorities. This isn’t a new reality. It is simply becoming increasingly apparent to those who never really paid attention in the past.

Bloggers, who often live by an entirely different financial model, are covering more fiction (I am most interested in fiction coverage, you see) than print publications can ever consider. Once it was argued to me that places like the NYTBR serve the public by exposing them to things that would fly under the traditional consumer’s radar. Uh huh. As I observed the wall-to-wall coverage of Philip Roth’s last novel, nothing was more apparent than the fact that some new authors trickle through, but there is a strong bent toward continuing coverage of the establishment.

This is fine. Just as I believe that genre fiction deserves fair critiquing — despite the belief that there are more “worthy”, more unnoticed works out there — I believe that literary lions should be read and analyzed in public. Bloggers, not held to publishing schedules and themes and the vision of others, are able to cover a wider range of interesting reading than most print publication. Blogs, not held to page limits and print runs, can take risks and explore topics to the degree the writer deems appropriate.

It is silly for defenders of old media to continue to fall back on tropes about blogging being facile or too much in the moment. The continued fighting for lost inches — they are not likely to return, at least not in the foreseeable future — by attacking people who are creating interesting, thought-provoking literary discussion is nonsensical. The repeated suggestions that bloggers are lesser critics smells like sour grapes.

There is no rule when it comes to blogging. There are writers who specialize in brief rehashes of news from other sources. There are writers who spend days or weeks composing critical analysis. There are writers who thoughtful, nuanced viewpoints. Some are prone to quick notes that lead readers to other thoughts; some are seduced by essays. Others, and I applaud them, go even deeper and further than any blog critic could fathom (get it, fathom? the coffee is kicking in)

Like it or not, the reader is moving online. The reader is online. The reader is searching blogs, particularly, for the information and analysis that traditional newspapers and other publications either could not or would not provide. What is happening should make any serious lover of reading very happy: not only are these bloggers making the conversation easy to have, but they’re also expanding the conversation. The nature of linking and community means that readers — again, they’re the one who buy the books — are discovering even more possibilities.

This is good. Very good. If you find it not good, I have to question your motivation. What bad can come from readers discovering new books and authors? But there’s more: readers are also participating in the discussion about the future of the book in ways that serve as clear markers for the industry. While there is academic about electronic books, there is also real-life, real-user discussion about this topic. Readers have spent years expressing their clear preferences for electronic media; it is time that the publishers paid attention.

I am interested in the fact that some of the best writing and thinking about the future of publishing is coming from sites that focus primarily on the romance genre. Obviously, I have a strong bent toward romance (and other genre fiction), but sites like Dear Author and the Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books are looking at the current state of fiction publishing as well as the future of fiction publishing with remarkably clear, insightful eyes. I’m not seeing that same level of analysis from other venues (though, please, enlighten me, I’m always eager to find kindred spirits). I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you’re not looking at the whole of epublishing, to quote a sage from my youth, watch out for those trees….

Note: About 99.98% of this was written prior to the opening session at the Tools of Change conference. It’s sort of funny how closely what was being said from the stage mirrored what I’m said above. The themes throughout the day pretty much ranged from the notion of passion to the idea that it’s time to get over the past and find your place in the future. More thoughts on this topic later.

Technorati Tags: toc08, tocconf08, toc2008

People don’t subscribe to newspapers for book reviews.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the economics of the news business have changed dramatically over the past decade. Heck, they’ve changed dramatically over the past century. Hmm, probably over the past millennium. It’s possible, I suppose, to posit that the news business has been in a state of flux since the beginning, way back when word-of-mouth was the chief way to spread information.

Oh, how those grunts and gestures were sometimes misinterpreted!

There is no law that states newspapers must provide book coverage for subscribers. While we like to pretend that news is provided to us unbiased and as a public service, the truth of the matter is that all major news media is part of a corporate portfolio. Even public radio — hello KCRW! — is a dollars-and-cents business. Programming is constantly cut, shifted, revamped to meet subscriber needs. If the shows (or, in the case of print, articles/sections) are not relevant to the audience, then support dwindles. Some programming might remain as a sentimental loss-leader, but that’s the exception, not the norm.

Our nation’s book critics, normally a group of fine thinkers and writers, refuse to acknowledge this reality. Or maybe they know the truth and dismiss it entirely. It’s that entitlement thing I mentioned. Rather than reaching out and engaging readers, they retreated into a hermetic environment. Bottom line is that it is easy for newspaper executives to cut book coverage because subscribers don’t value newspaper book coverage.

I personally believe this is because the book coverage didn’t value the readers.

Steve Wasserman, the former editor of the Los Angeles Times Book Review (and unwitting inspiration for this article), notes:

At the Los Angeles Times, as at other newspapers, readers of the Book Review were a minority of the paper’s overall circulation. Internal market surveys at the Times consistently showed the Book Review to be the single worst-read weekly section produced by the paper. I was neither surprised nor alarmed. Since most people didn’t read books, I figured of those who did, only a fanatical few would go to any great length actually to read about them. The regular consumption of book reviews is an acquired taste. Since 1975, when the Book Review was created as a separate section at the Los Angeles Times, it had almost always been the least-read section of the Sunday paper. This was so at other newspapers as well.

“Neither surprised nor alarmed”? Yet he has the temerity to complain that newspapers are cutting book coverage? What did he, or any other book editor in the same position with the same attitude expect? Some sort of weird intellectual charity?

I have long noted the disconnect between the Los Angeles Times bestseller list and what is reviewed by the paper’s critics. Now, I’m not saying that bestsellers should drive the review schedule, but shouldn’t there, at the very least, be a balance between what the editorial staff believes people should read and what they do read? Reviews do not only inform, they also validate. The Los Angeles Times Book Review, even before it was made completely ridiculous, was never a welcoming place for casual readers.

Sure, it maintained a devoted (but small) fan base, but reaching out and touching people who might be looking for something different as they struggled to find actual “newspaper” among all the Sunday advertisements wasn’t worth the effort? By the way, the newspapers lost those readers a long time ago. Convincing them to return will not be fun nor easy.

Like so many members-only clubs, the downfall was a matter of time. You keep the doors barred long enough when the rent is going up, and eventually you’re going to have to give up your lease on the building. Then you’ll be standing across the street, watching as everyone streams into the newer, hipper, more welcoming version of your club. Of course, you won’t enter. You’re too cool for that school. Instead you comment that bloggers aren’t really reviewers and some opinions are worth more than others.

You never ask yourself how your opinion came to be so valued. You never ask yourself how new generations of thinkers displace the old. You never once consider that you sound like a petulant child. Worst of all, you never consider the role you played in your own demise.

That, I believe, is the worst sin of all.

As Wasserman well knows, the annual Los Angeles Times Festival of Books attracts approximately 150,000 people each year (and is growing). This represents a small fraction of the region’s readers (it is amazing to me how many local readers are unaware of this event), and those numbers areparticularly noteworthy for several reasons:

• The LATFOB is held in Los Angeles, almost always on a lovely Spring day. You can have your April in Paris — Los Angeles weather during that time of year cannot be beat.
• The LATFOB is held on the campus of UCLA. Though there is a nearby freeway (the always horrendous 405), getting to UCLA is a tough slog for just about anyone. And once you arrive, you get to pay way too much to park and walk a good distance through the campus, especially since the book signings are held far away from readings/panels (suddenly that lovely sunshine becomes rather warm).
• All of this happens on a weekend, by the way. Families, especially, have a lot to do on weekends. Best case scenario is that this is an all-day event. Given the pressures of today’s world, the fact that so many people choose to spend their day with books and book people is amazing.
• The crowd who attends is amazingly diverse. While Wasserman brags about reaching the “…most well-off and best-read demographic cohorts…”, the truth of the matter is that attendees come from all walks of life. They come despite the LATBR.

Wasserman seems to put the failure of newspaper books reviews on the shoulders of some sort of anti-intellectual movement. Perhaps instead of blaming the public for a lack intellectual rigor, Wasserman and others should consider their failure to communicate. It isn’t the failure of the citizens of Los Angeles or any other community to read; it is a failure of book review editors to connect with those readers.

Instead of valuing the whole audience, they cherished only a small percentage. This, more than anything, is why book reviews are being cut. Book critics often point to the sports sections of newspapers as low revenue generators. Why isn’t sports coverage being cut?

The obvious answer is that people don’t subscribe to newspapers for book reviews; they dosubscribe for sports coverage. Possibly a less examined reason — but one that is often valid when it comes to the Los Angeles Times — is that sportswriting is often more compelling and emotionally engaging than literary criticism. Oops, did I really say that? I think the fact that the section of the paper devoted to good writing is drier than toast is proof positive of every student’s nightmares are about reading.

Where is the passion, the enthusiasm, the joy that comes from reading something wonderful and wanting to share it with the world? Is it completely impossible to be analytical, thoughtful, and interesting? Writing about books should not inspire boredom, it should inspire someone to buy and read books.

There is a sense that there are “serious” readers and, I suppose, “non-serious” readers. The former, naturally, read only the best, the most elucidating, the cream of the human condition crop. The latter, naturally, read trash. It is the former that so many dedicated newspaper book review sections sought to reach. That overlap exists between the two perceived reading spheres is irrelevant. That the “non-serious” reader might want to join the club was ignored. Bottom line was that the editorial staff refused to offer a signal that these readers were welcome.

What are book reviews anyway? Ask two people, you’ll get two answers. Ask five, you’ll get five. The idea of a review is often mixed up with the notion of literary criticism. That’s fine. It’s good to meet different needs of your customers. A good editor will understand how to balance wants while enticing readers to try something new.

If a review is designed, as some believe, to convince a consumer to purchase or avoid a product, then just a synopsis with some analysis of strengths and weaknesses is required. Readers of these reviews do not want plot or character development spoiled — they want to make the journey themselves. They seek a review that helps guide them toward media they will enjoy.

Then there are the readers looking for in-depth analysis of a story: the plot, the characters, the setting, the execution. They want to know if what they read jibes with what another person read. They seek agreement, disagreement, or debate. In many ways, these are the readers for whom the Internet book explosion was invented. Now this analysis and debate can take place with a wide range of individuals — and it is not time-sensitive.

A letter to an editor is, let’s be honest, not nearly as likely to be published three months after a review has been forgotten (or, if you will, perish, oh slow readers!). Editorial staff aren’t likely to publish an impassioned counter-argument from the reader on the street; where are the all-important credentials, what gives Joe Schmoe the right to disagree with us? Blogs and websites, however, encourage this debate. Thrive on the interaction. Generate discussion when the newspaper is nothing more than birdcage liner.

(Then there is the notion that various online reviewers simply don’t have the chops, the lineage, the whatever that writing for a print publication offers. This is a sour grapes argument.)

Perhaps newspaper (and magazine) reviews are better off for the cuts. The current model — where someone dictates views and opinions without room for debate — is almost antithetical to the nature of literary discussion. Reading in isolation is a wonderful thing, but so is arguing the finer points of dialogue with a worthy opponent.

When I think back to those moments where I was inspired to read outside my comfort zone, I realize it was because of discussions with people who were passionate about authors and books. They didn’t dissect the work with the dispassion of a coroner — they were evangelists for story. One such person actually convinced me that I was wrong about Ernest Hemingway.

This passion is so often missing from today’s literary reviews. Where is the love, the joy, the excitement?

Wasserman says that our newspapers have an “obligation” to publish the sort of in-depth, elitist literary criticism that he favors while simultaneously citing anecdotal evidence that the audience for this type of work is small. I don’t believe newspapers, or any other media, are obligated to do anything, including providing “fair and balanced” reporting (the entire notion of “unbiased reporting” is a 20th century fiction). He calls this a conversation. But it’s not a conversation. The format doesn’t allow for conversation.

The type of conversation being advocated here is one that will ultimately lead to inevitable moments of awkwardness. Suddenly, you realize you have been saying the same thing to the same people for years on end. Nobody new has joined your circle, no fresh thoughts have entered your mind, you realize you’re so intent on Making Your Point or, worse, Proving Your Superior Mind that you’ve forgotten why reading mattered in the first place. You disdain the reader of Danielle Steel without acknowledging that there is a time and place for every type of book; without, I’d wager, wondering why that seemingly intelligent, multi-degreed, high-level professional chooses a book you wouldn’t touch on a dare. Enjoying the so-called low-brow is not an indicator of intelligence level.

Many factors influence reading choices. Perhaps instead of judging readers by their book covers, the time has come to embrace the diversity of fiction. A shared appreciation of Raymond Carver might very well lead to a lightbulb moment with Hemingway. That lover of Georgette Heyer might also be equally enthusiastic about the social observations of Stendahl. And that devotee of Robert Heinlein might be the next author you’re dying to review. You just don’t know, so why not reach out to more readers?

To the book critics of America, I say it’s time to stop your sobbing. If you are as important and relevant as you say you are, prove it. What are you doing about this so-called crisis? You’re getting up petitions and preaching to the choir, but how are you reaching real readers? How are you proving your point to the ones who matter most? You’ve circled the wagons around the faithful, but what about the rest of us?

We all know the problem, as you see it. What is your solution?

Newspaper coverage isn’t going to magically grow. The conversation has moved elsewhere. You are uniquely positioned to be leaders in the literary world. It is your choice how you move forward, but there is no going backward.

Saving book coverage in major newspapers as it is today will not solve the problem.

While it’s fun to discuss the cultural relevance and intellectual input of these sections, the truth of the matter is that most dedicated book review sections cater to a small slice of the reading public. They are simply not relevant to a wide swath of readers; in a world where business decisions are focus-grouped to death, it is safe to assume that, all save the World of Culture talk aside, book coverage doesn’t have the necessary audience to sustain the investment.

Some pundits have called newspapers the great democratizer of information. They try to extend this democratization to cultural coverage. Look at book coverage like you’d look at the Metro section. Diversity galore in the latter, but the former reads like it decided to cut out entire neighborhoods and topics (oh, we’ve decided that we won’t discuss murder, we don’t talk about neighborhood festivals).

We have long believed that the reason readers don’t value these sections is because the editors of book review sections don’t value the entire population of readers. Intellectual snobbery or editorial vision are both fine things, but not when you’re purporting to support the entire population of readers. You can be democratic or you can be elite. It’s really hard to be both, and elitism is the path chosen — and that’s not necessarily a sin — then there will be trade-offs.

All is not lost and we think book coverage in major media can be saved. The first step is to identify who is reading in your community and what they’re reading. You will quickly notice that this a broad group with diverse tastes. You will also need to accept that you won’t be able to please everyone on all levels, but maybe a little less enthusiasm about the next “who was Shakespeare, really?” expose and a little more enthusiasm about something else might help.

Okay, you know your potential audience. Now, how to serve them best? Your legal pad is surely filled with ideas now. Far too many to implement at once, or ever. Cross out the stuff you’re already doing, unless it’s something so new and innovative that it’s worth giving a chance. Look at what you’re not currently doing: covering a wide range of reads, better niche content, age-friendly information, more stories about local authors, more user-generated content, more local author-generated content, more conversation with the reading public (and, yes, writing public), more community building.

Then consider how to best do what you need to do? Is the print edition the best way to go? Online? A hybrid? How do you bring those people you’ve lost back? How do you reach the readers you’ve never had? How can you make your content so inviting, so interesting that you make other choices seem lame? Note: web-only content is not a special treat for your readers. You have an entire generation that turns to online sources as primary news media. The web is equal to or greater than your print media.

Last weekend’s Los Angeles Times Festival of Books was slated to bring in approximately 150,000 people. That number represents only a fraction of the Los Angeles reading public. Make no doubt about it, even for those who happen to be geographically close to UCLA, attending this event is a day-long affair. It’s clear that Los Angeles residents have a desire to be in touch with the reading community. And one thing the LATFoB does very well is highlight the diversity of readers in the city.

Would that the Los Angeles Times Book Review do the same thing. The recent clunky makeover does not disguise the fact that community and diversity are not part of the section’s plan. In a recent interview, editor David Ulin suggested that the time had come “…to start thinking as a community of like-minded readers and writers for whom books and literature are as essential as food.”

Actually, that should have happened ten years ago, when the first writing appeared on the first wall. Now publications like the Los Angeles Times Book Review are playing catch-up with the rest of the Internet. Ulin noted several reasons why this must be the case, concluding:

Because of this, we can’t help but move more slowly than a lot of web sites; when we publish web-only content, it is edited, copy edited, vetted and checked just like a piece written for print. We (our writers and editors) are individuals, but we are also speaking from within a larger institution, and all the paper’s ethical and structural guidelines apply.

He then goes on to cite innovations like LATFoB podcast and live chats as seeming innovations (surely not the case — they had these last year, right? Right?). He highlights an email interview as an unusual approach to communicating. Ulin may not be much of a web user, based on his statements, but surely he can find the right kind of people to help push his Review into the 21st century.

We have been a little too Cassandra on this topic, even for our own smug taste, but we have one more prediction. Saving book coverage in major newspapers as it is today will not solve the problem. Old-school book coverage — a one-way conversation if ever there was one — won’t work. Readers are desperately seeking community. The question now is whether the book editors of the world have the vision they need to bring those readers into a clean, well-lighted place.

Why would today’s reader turn to his or her local paper to discover new books?

The reason, naturally, is that motion picture studios use co-op dollars to partner with local theaters, creating advertising along with time and date information. Books and music don’t have this sort of immediacy. Hmm, not quite true. The same kind of cooperative partnerships that motion pictures enjoy with local theaters are enjoyed by books and CDs…only the co-op dollars are spent in-store (though, as the music store becomes more and more an artifact, the economics are changing).

In-store displays command most of the marketing budgets for books. While review copies are sent to and fro by marketing staffs, whether or not they land on the desks of grateful recipients is questionable. One thing most reviewers complain of — an irony if ever one existed — is that there are simply too many books. Even the legendary Harriet Klausner (yes, she really is real) cannot keep up with the publishing industry output. She tries, oh, she tries, but it’s clear from her slapdash reviews, often riddled with errors, that fast trumps quality in her quest to maintain her top billing.

In many instances, authors take on the role of marketing professionals, some successfully, some not so much. Once upon a time, perhaps roles were clearer: one person wrote the book, one person edited it, and another made sure the general public handed over cold, hard cash to read it. Increasingly, these roles are consolidated on the shoulders of the authors, yet their share in the proceeds of their effort is not increasing. This may be why some authors are seeking other opportunities in the form of increased shares in the success of their books.

But we’re talking about newspapers, not royalties. Why would today’s reader turn to his or her local paper to discover new books? Is a static review, out of context and minus community, really that effective? Sure, we imagine there are some who have the necessary luxury of time required to read a newspaper cover-to-cover. We, being overbooked and understaffed, consider it a small victory when we skim the headlines; we read news online. It’s more immediate and allows us, should we choose, to go deeper into the story.

As newspapers grow reluctant to devote column inches and entire trees to book reviews, they’re likely to be more receptive to devoting online space (much cheaper) to reviews, interviews, and, yes, community. Discussion. Back-and-forth between readers (still, may we note, the most important link in the publishing chain). Yes, they’re going to want advertising money from publishers. Web servers and bandwidth do not come free, though they do come relatively cheap.

There are other places where good, healthy book discussions can take place, online and offline. Going to a bookstore gives you more interaction. Joining a bookclub yields more recommendations. Listening to NPR or public radio even. Conversation is the key. As we lament the decline of newspaper coverage of books, we wonder if these reviews are really as useful as they might be. We also wonder if there’s a better way.

Of course the answer is yes. More thoughts to come. We promise.

By failing to include a broad range of readers, dedicated book review sections are hurting themselves.

The NYTBR was called on the carpet because male reviewers outnumbered female reviewers approximately two to one. At the time, then-editor Charles McGrath explained this disparity with unsupported, unsubstantiated logic: “…more books are written by men than by women.” When Sam Tanenhaus took over the Review after McGrath left, he opted to punt on the issue, saying that comparing numbers would be a mistake.

A high-profile study that exposes gender disparity, an editor who defends his publication’s position without factual support, and another editor who thinks that considering the issue would be a mistake. With this kind of foundation, it makes perfect sense that Barry Gewen would clarify the issue like this:

In what even he described as a “Larry Summers moment” he explained that the reason so few women reviewers appear in the NYTBR is that they just can’t write for a general audience about such topics as military history.

Setting aside the question of how many books on military history the NYTBR reviews on a weekly (heck, monthly) basis — apparently the genre is far more popular with the reading public than we previously believed — it makes one wonder why Gewen believes women aren’t capable of this type of reviewing. But he explains it, and we know where he’s coming from:

He explained that NYTBR editors find reviewers by talking to colleagues and reading publications such as The New Yorker, The New York Review of Books, and The New Republic, insisting that he and his colleagues are not overtly prejudiced people but admitted they might have subconscious prejudices.

Let us state, up front and for the record, that we will likely never write about military history with anything resembling authority. This is not, as Barry Gewen of the New York Times Book Review would have it, because of our overabundance of X chromosomes. It has more to do with our lack of interest in the topic. Luckily for us, military history is not the only general interest subject available in the reviewing world.

In many ways, this gets back to the brouhaha between Susan Estrich and Michael Kinsley over the lack of female voices on the opinion pages of major newspapers. There may be some overt sexism at the NYTBR, but the real culprit is process. Gewen cheerfully admits that he taps a limited set of resources; those resources likely follow the same process. You think there’s a lot of incestuous behavior in the blogosphere? Where do you think we learned about the print media equivalent of the old boys’ network?

We have long believed that the editors of book review sections for major newspapers are out of touch with their constituency (note: more women buy books than men). Each editor brings a specific set of biases to the publication and molds the review section to that vision. This process of disenfranchising readers creates a book review section that contradicts the desires of the community’s readers — we are not suggesting that, oh, the Los Angeles Times Book Review forego its obsession with the history of Hollywood, but it might be beneficial to also look beyond the bias and try a little inclusiveness.

We say this only because the latest scheme by LAT executives seems a bit, oh, wow, insane. In what is presumably a desire to meld opinion with opinion, the new review section will, oh, we’ll quote from LA Observed:

Newsroom sources at the Times expect the Sunday Book Review will be folded into a new hybrid opinion section and delivered in Saturday papers. The new section that some staffers have seen would be tabloid-sized, with the favored format apparently using dual front pages like the New York City tabs. A reader could pick up the section and begin with the book pages, or flip to the back page — then rotate the whole section 180 degrees — to begin with the opinion pieces. Books fans and readers looking for opinion would both get a section front to draw them in, but those who like to browse through from front to back could be annoyed at having to rotate mid-way through. (I haven’t seen the prototype so I can’t tell if it’s as bush league as it sounds.) Apparently the opinion portion would run without editorials or letters. Some believe the revamp has already received bean-counter approval to launch after the Times Festival of Books in April — it just wouldn’t do to have the rookie publisher and editor jeered at the paper’s biggest (by far) community event.

Or the delay could have something to with the LAT staff going to blogging boot camp. Hard to say.

No, we don’t think the new format will do much to encourage readers to devour the LAT book review section; we also don’t think that the NYTBR will change its male-centric bias until it changes its process — or top editorial staff. The book lovers who have been excluded from these sections have already moved on. They have found alternate sources — magazines, journals, blogs, websites, friends — of information.

Losing readers may be a fine plan, it’s hard to say. But lower readership leads to lower advertising dollars, and while we doubt the NYTBR will ever lose the lemming-like infusion of publisher dollars (why, we always wonder, do industries spend so much money marketing to themselves?), we are seeing the trickle-down effect of lack of readership: newspapers are cutting book review column inches. This is a shame and a disservice to the community these newspapers serve. By failing to include a broad range of readers, dedicated book review sections are hurting themselves. When a section of a newspaper is perceived to be cost inefficient, cuts are necessarily made.

Book review sections of newspapers are, by definition, serving a large spectrum of the public. While it is fine and dandy for the editorial team to craft a publication that suits their particular vision, it is worth recalling the multitudes who are not served by this approach. It is also worth recalling that there is more to general interest than military history.

• Military history is for mail writers only
• Boy, Birl, Boy
• A Matter of Opinion
• A Larry Summers Moment
• Thinking About Gender Bias
• LAT Book Review in for a change

Technorati Tags: books, reviewing, publishing, new york times, los angeles times, new york times book review, nytbr, los angeles times book review, latbr, la observed, charles mcgrath, sam tanenhaus, gender bias

The thought that fake fiction had made its way into our home is alarming

Dowd’s faux outrage was because the sea of chicklit that threatened to drown out the classics. Yeah, it’s not like most of those are force fed to young readers in ways that make them grow up to hate literary standards. But that’s another rant for another day. Dowd pretends to be shocked, shocked!, by the continuing popularity of chicklit, noting, rather unsuccessfully, that it expanded seemingly overnight beyond the original confines of young editor in the city desperately seeking a halfway decent guy for a lifetime of contentment.

Someone needs to tell Dowd to wander over to the manga aisle. That’s going to give her nightmares for decades.

Then there are the sub-genres of chicklit, which, when you get right down to it, are merely nice marketing niches. Clearly Dowd doesn’t read her own paper. If she had, she might have thought twice about condemning, at the very least, the trend of “Bollywood chicklit”. As Rachel Donadio noted last year, on the international stage, these stories are exposing female readers to societal injustices and alternative viewpoints on what it means to be female in a patriarchal society. She also, probably, wouldn’t have made the egregious error of equating young adult fiction with regular adult fiction. Sloppy, that.

Jane Austen and the authors who preceded her — authors of books Dowd acknowledges have always been linked to female reader — used their fiction as a way of subverting authority. The tradition continues. Even the Harlequin romances dismissed by Dowd challenged the patriarchal status quo, what with depicting satisfied, successful career women during eras where June Cleaver was the epitome of femininity. Yeah, they also noted that coupledom and family are critical to the human experience. Hello? They are. Men and women seek this. Women, at least, explore the challenges of wanting it all, having it all, and realizing that it all changes over time.

We digress. Novels change society. Novels expose hypocrisy. They get the message out to the masses. What better way to pass new ideas in societies where two or more females in a gathering is considered a danger to a culture? Novels are a time-honored way to share subversive thoughts with a potentially receptive readership.

Step one, of course, is to convince the reader that opening the book is worthwhile. Step two, naturally, is to convince the reader to move beyond the first page. Step three, it only goes to follow, is to create a world so absorbing that the reader is enthralled enough to read, learn, and think.

Dowd’s outrage is stemmed at readers who, wow, this is hard to say, buy books and read them. Those crazy gals! Imagine — they’re enjoying the beauty of books! They’re treating fiction like it’s something to be…liked. Don’t they realize that fiction is like cod liver oil? Taking a spoonful of sugar in your fiction will not help the medicine go down.

Across the Atlantic Ocean, Fay Weldon is expressing similar outrage, though far less gender specific. It’s like readers are the enemy. She cannot bear that some books achieve commercial success while “real” books, written by those who take writing “seriously” do not achieve the publishing version of success. Weldon neglects to indict herself in the novel-as-commercial-venture game; she, of course, accepted cash from Bulgari to include their products in a novel. We do not condemn Weldon’s decision, by the way. Writing is not a good way to get rich. If that’s your goal, we strongly suggest the lottery. Better odds.

Weldon is, we believe, complaining that publishing is a commercial venture. Publishers focus on hits, sequels to hits, cheap, quickly produced titles geared toward desperate shoppers, books that rake in cash with very little expense. Duh. If you truly believe that publishing is all about fantastic talent, you are doomed for disappointment. Or a career that makes your really happy while doing little to put food on the table. Again, no judgment. You follow your art, that’s what matters.

Dan Brown and J.K. Rowling are authors who especially aggrieve Weldon — how dare they write books that readers want to read? Especially Rowling, doesn’t she realize that “[c]hildren’s writers must stick to their age groups…”? As Weldon rants that the commercialization of the publishing industry (not new, by the way) leads to the death of creativity, citing the pigeon-holing of genre writers like children’s authors, she chooses to pick on the one author who gives lie to her argument.

Why is Rowling successful? In a word, archetypes. In more words, the heroic journey. In even more words, compelling storytelling that crosses generations. If only she hadn’t had the misfortune of success, then maybe she’d be taken seriously as an author. You live, you learn.

Both Dowd and Weldon fail to fully acknowledge the truth of what they see in the publishing business: a lot of decisions are made because it’s just good marketing. Commercial fiction (and, yes, commercial non-fiction) plays a critical role in any publishing house: it brings in pots of money. In order for publishers to acquire “real” books and pay the authors something resembling reasonable advances, there must be money in the bank. Editors simply cannot afford to buy “dignified” books; there is a need to keep the lights on, you know. Also, little known secret: editors must eat at least once a week. This requires a paycheck that doesn’t bounce.

Publishing is full of trade-offs, and, as Scott Pack notes in the essay printed just below Weldon’s, major houses have responsibilities that small presses can skirt (shareholders, for example). There’s a reason why a lot of great fiction is coming from small press publishers; the trade-off being that authors aren’t getting sumptuous advances. Major houses tend to overpay for fine literature, the general public, less so. Sorry. It’s true. If you’re going to be precious about fiction, you need to understand that it’s a diverse readership out there, and the fiction we champion isn’t always what the average reader wants.

This is not our way of saying that money equals bad fiction. Bills are paid when units are moved. Sales less returns are the only factor (also, other costs, but why ruin your day with algebra). Commercial fiction, or fiction deemed by marketing to fit a specific publishing niche, ranges from very good to very cringe inducing. A lifetime of reading literary fiction leads us to the same analysis. It is amazing what is considered well-written in some circles. Less amazing is the inability of serious fiction critics to admit the truth when encountering bad fiction.

No good can come from labeling readers “good” or “bad” because they read or don’t read certain types of books. No good can come from blaming authors for marketing decisions made by publishing houses, regardless of the content of their books. No good can come from deeming practical business decisions wrong, just because one isn’t getting the major advances one feels she should.

Shopping with Dowd that fateful day was Leon Wieseltier, the literary editor of The New Republic. Wieseltier shook his ponderous head (presumably) and tsk’d over the books he saw:

“These books do not seem particularly demanding in the manner of real novels,” Leon said. “And when we’re at war and the country is under threat, they seem a little insular. America’s reading women could do a lot worse than to put down ‘Will Francine Get Her Guy?’ and pick up ‘The Red Badge of Courage.’ ”

Thanks, Leon. Will file that under useless advice. Already did the Red Badge thing. Junior high. Good book. And what’s up with the notion that we must read books about war in times of war? By all accounts, the so-called War on Terror will continue for generations. That’s a lot of books about war. Do you offer the same advice to men who spend weekends glued to frivolous sporting events? Do you say, “C’mon, man, we’re at war. Drop and give me twenty.” Or is football sufficiently gladiatorial enough for your new rule?

Perhaps, Leon, you should spend some time actually considering the reading habits of American women rather than condemning them wholesale based on lame evidence (major chain bookstore, covers chosen by marketing, titles, ditto). You might be surprised. Remember, Leon, that women tend to read more fiction than men. Romantic fiction comprises approximately 50% of fiction sales, sure, but that leaves, wow, a whole lot of room for “real” novels. A little logic suggests that women are buying and reading those, too.

Oh, and Leon, what is a real novel anyway? Are there specific guidelines? Are all those books you see fake? What if, by chance, a real novel found itself disguised as a fake novel? These are not rhetorical questions. We really want to know. After all, our desk is littered with books. The thought that fake fiction had made its way into our home is alarming. When that happens, surely the terrorists have won.

In many ways, both Dowd and Weldon are judging books by their covers. They are blaming readers, authors, and publishers for the fact that some books sell well and others don’t. There is no good explanation for the success of The Da Vinci Code but one: it struck a chord with readers. There is no good explanation for the success of the entire Harry Potter series but one: it struck a chord with readers. Far more readers than Dan Brown’s book, but, as noted, Rowling’s work crosses generations.

Dowd doesn’t like books with pink covers, and the best thing about our free world is that she doesn’t have to buy or read them. Weldon wants to change the definition of success from the perspective of the publishing business, and the cool thing is that all she needs to do is change publishing houses.

Technorati Tags: maureen dowd, fay weldon, rachel donadio, scott pack, fiction, writin, publishing, chicklit, dan brown, jk rowling, harry potter, the da vinci code, Leon Wieseltier

• Heels over Hemingway (TimesSelect, paid version)
• Heels over Hemingway (free version, not at Times site)
• The tyranny of bestsellers

What gave us pause was the phrasing in an email from the company to an author (see page two of the story)– while Slate’s reading of the service was that the review would be written by a New York Times bestselling author (in this case, probably the extremely extended list), the company’s email to the self-published author suggests that the review is an actual New York Times review.

Big difference.

But oddly, not the most interesting part of this story. As we were somewhat intrigued by this story, we thought we’d engage in “research” (clicking on links and whatnot). What to our wondering eyes did appear but…wait for it…nada! All copy referencing the review, one Ellen Tanner Marsh, has been removed from the BookSurge site. Wethinks someone realized some bad mojo was happening.

Marsh’s reviews still appear on Amazon, but the paid service has been, shall we say, discontinued. Without explanation. Okay, so someone figured out this wasn’t the best way to do business. Sure, BookSurge (and probably Marsh) made some money, but a single review on for a self-published novel simply isn’t going to be effective. Despite our own career as a book reviewer, we are not entirely sure that reviews have that much power over the consumer anyway.

Here’s why: people are cynical. One review by someone the reader has never heard of is not enough to sway opinion. We’ll go so far as to say that savvy readers expect friends of the author to post glowing reviews on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other places. For self-published authors, these reviews likely don’t do much to sway staff at newspapers or magazines either. It’s that cynicism thing again. The truth of the matter is that self-published authors need to work harder to get their books read.

We’re sorry to say this, but the barrier for entry into the world of being a published author is low. Getting distribution via Amazon isn’t that hard. Selling your book to interested customers is. It requires a lot of good, old-fashioned legwork. Paying for reviews might seem like a brilliant shortcut, but it isn’t.

Someone else, of course, is that narrow strata of readers who are clamoring for yet another expose of the real Shakespeare. Or a translation of a great Hungarian novel about oppression, strife, and disaffected youth at the turn of the century.

We are not saying that niche novels do not deserve coverage by newspapers. Inf act, without reviews by major newspapers, these works might never come to the attention of the public. But the general tone of book sections in newspapers is elitist. There is no shame in elitism — we practice the hobby of snobbish intellectual elitism daily — but newspapers are all about casting a wide net. The New York Times might print a display ad of the new Nora Roberts book because her contract with her publisher compels them to purchase the advertisement, but the NYT will not review Roberts. She is perceived as not worthy of the time and effort.

This discounts the millions of readers who purchase her books, makes them believe that the newspaper perceive them as not worthy of the time and effort. Lack of genre fiction coverage is endemic to the industry. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again: genre fiction readers buy a lot of books. Many of them read voraciously outside their genre. Over and over and over again, we ask our friends if they open the Los Angeles Times Book Review section on Sunday mornings. Nobody does — it doesn’t speak to them on any level.

Our friends, by the way, read just about everything under the sun. Except, it appears, the LAT Book Review. That should tell the newspaper something very important: do a better job of reaching the audience.

We have posited that newspaper book review sections are killing themselves by exclusiveness. Part of this is the lack of advertising dollars coming in from the publishing industry. Scott Esposito said:

To suggest that newspapers should curtail their book coverage because the publishing industry doesn’t correctly “support” them with advertising is ridiculous.

However, you will note that arts coverage in newspapers is often supported by industry. Granted, we live in L.A., where the motion picture industry throws dollars at the “Calendar” section like they grow on trees. But if you look through the Calendar, you will see that arts dollars are coming from the opera, playhouses, performing arts centers, museums, concert venues…and sometimes a book ad for an author like James Patterson, someone who surely doesn’t need the exposure. The dedicated book review section has a fair bit of advertising, but, not surprisingly, the ads are completely out of sync with the content.

But Scott’s right — the coverage of books in newspapers should not be dependent upon ad dollars from the industry. This means, of course, that those ad dollars need to come from somewhere else. Which means that the section must be perceived as valuable to readers, because if you’re selling with the intent of catching eyeballs (and, like publishers, newspapers are not charities), then you need to have those eyeballs.

Books coverage doesn’t have to be fair and balanced across all genres, but it needs to be valuable to the people who matter most. We have all seen that readers are migrating to online venues to get their book news. Look at the genre fiction arena: you have robust communities that aren’t getting support from their local newspapers. These readers are long lost. Maybe it won’t be the next time, but there will be a moment in the near future where Nora Roberts’ publisher takes a look at effective use of advertising dollars and realizes that the community they’re trying to sell isn’t reading the NYT for book information. The publisher will go online, as well. What happens when the paper loses those advertising dollars?

We like to be snobby, but we have to be realistic. Newspapers are businesses who are losing readers and advertising dollars. But a lot of people still rely upon newspapers for information. Books tend to be the only major entertainment media where reviews are not done across the medium. In order for the readers to value book coverage, the coverage needs to value the readers. All of them.

Elsewhere:

• Support Your Local Book Pages!
• Books coverage, or lack thereof?
• Reviewing the State of Book Review Coverage

Technorati Tags: books, reviews, book reviews, publishing, newspapers, new york times, los angeles times

Not that we’d complain on that score, nosiree, nothing like living through 2005 again to get a girl all excited.

So, it’s all blah, blah, blah, too many reviews, readers don’t trust them, word-of-mouth, relationships, the usual, and then the kicker:

Already John Murray has decided to canvass the views of “ordinary readers” for the launch The Meaning of Night. How long before others follow? I suspect we will soon see publishers working much more closely with bloggers and reading groups. They will run ongoing focus group panels and maybe some will even follow the Miramax model and ruthlessly target awards and prizes. Exciting times are ahead for those switched on enough to recognise that a whole new “recommendation model” is needed. Let the fun and games begin.

Sure, okay, the UK is across the ocean, but no matter how many times we read the article (considering the source), we cannot help but return to our original thought. Which, of course, leads to calendar checking again.

• Sentenced to death?