The Future of Publishing

Last night, I missed my bookclub*. My fault. I hate missing my bookclub meetings, but, well, someone screwed up her calendar. No names. When I first joined, I was a paranoid newcomer who thought it was about intellectual discussion and critical analysis. I read some serious dreck before I caught on. Maybe your bookclub trudges through slog, but, wow, mine is about the social. And the books. You’re reading but are you particpating? Reading is a beautifully solitary activity — I’ve mentioned before that my elementary school, a school based just outside Vandenberg Air Force Base, had a program called […]

I am not worried about the future of the book. I am not worried about the future of reading. I am not worried about the future of spelling (I am almost-but-not-quite ready to accept the “spelling is relative” argument, !@#$ British and their extraneous use of “U”). I am worried about the future of publishers. Your competition is not who you think it is. By publishers, I mean traditional, bound-copy based, royalty-paying publishers. Oh, I don’t think they’re going away for a good long time, but I do think we’re seeing the beginning of a serious challenge to the status

Imagine, if you will, a bright, cold Tuesday morning in New York City. But you don’t mind the chill outside because you’re inside, attending Day 2 of the second annual O’Reilly Tools of Change conference. In fact, at this moment, the only worry on you mind is what fantastic session to attend (don’t worry, I’m here to help). For those members of the publishing industry who still haven’t registered for next week’s conference, it’s not too late. For those members of the book community who are eager to learn more about the future of publishing, ditto. Recall, if you will,

Since Santa didn’t bring me a Kindle (probably fair on his part since I didn’t bake him any cookies), I have no choice but to worry about the future of the world. Or rather publishing. Or rather aspects of publishing. To sorta paraphrase Captain Jack Harkness, the 21st century is when everything changes, we have to be ready for it right now. Ask your mother to try your search engine. To my mind, the most important aspect of our future (media) culture is discoveribility. If you can’t be found, you won’t be found. This means, plain and simple, that —

There is no question that we are undergoing major change in the world of entertainment. The rate of change is both rapid and glacial. What is absolutely certain is that the next generation will consider our ways quaint and overly complex. They are growing up with a new set of expectations — and it is those expectations that publishing companies should start meeting now. How many publishers are working to make sure ebooks can easily be read on the iPhone? I’ve been talking about this for a while, but was reminded yesterday of the importance of planning for the future.

Yeah, well, you try to resist a bad pun first thing in the morning. So Amazon, as threatened, has released its e-reader, the Kindle (the naming of products remains one of those mysteries that will never be solved). It uses e-ink, has wireless connectivity, generous battery life, and kills germs. Why am I not excited? Let us count the ways.

The beauty of the various entertainment industries is that there are many parallels to be drawn. Despite their apparent differences — sound, pictures, and words — are built on common distribution methodologies, they use the same accounting principles as their base (tweaking as necessary), and they make the same mistakes. As noted about a gazillion times, the music industry completely lost control of the online music market. Given the size and portability of music, it made sense that songs would be the first major non-hyperlinked phenomenon of the Internet age. When faced with the chance to take the lead, to

I have been thinking a lot about about advertising lately. I have decided, much against my natural skeptical instinct, to accept the theory that it works. This despite the obviously flawed quality and rather obscure messages. Yesterday at the gym, I saw four commercials in a row…and not a single, clear, understandable explanation about the purpose of the products being advertised. Generic ads make readers feel like numbers. Though, after a day’s consideration, I have determined that the Council of Meadows has banded together with the Association of Shorelines to extol the virtues of both. I have long believed that

For the past week, the notion of genre and images has consumed me. Okay, also wondering what’s for lunch, but the genre question has been more than a little all-encompassing. In addition to the fantastic article written by Pam Jenoff for BS last week, back channel discussion about Nicola Griffith’s Always has been happening (Gwenda Bond, the one and only, has posted the first installment of said discussion here). The craziness might lead to another problem: readers who make their own books The question roiling in the scary place that is my mind is whether or not strict genre categorization