by Steve Jordan
In order for the e-book marketplace to make sense to Amazon, there had to be more order to it. If there was more order, it would be possible to optimize and profit from the market. And Amazon realized it was one of a very few organizations in a position to establish any kind of order to e-books. So, like the Martians in H.G. Welles’ novel, its executives watched the industry, and began quietly developing their plans to take over the e-book world.
~
One of the most important decisions the company had to make was regarding the final form of the e-books delivered to the customer. They had three likely choices: Offering multiple formats created by other parties, as some e-book sellers did at that time; choosing and offering a single existing format from another party; or creating their own, proprietary format. Enough damage had already been done to the industry by creating new formats, and there would be a significant development curve involved, so that idea was out. The economics of offering a single format were much better than supplying multiple formats, but there was the concern that a format they did not own might change, and force expensive and extensive work to re-accommodate the changes. Amazon decided the best way to combat that was to identify an existing format, one that was technically “stable” and well-suited for literature delivery for some time to come… and buy it.
So Amazon bought the MobiPocket format. MobiPocket was one of the most stable of e-book formats, and because it was already capable of being read on almost any electronic device imaginable, it was already one of the most popular single e-book formats. This news led to some trepidation in the e-book world, as consumers hoped Amazon would not somehow prevent MobiPocket from continuing to offer the same quality e-books on almost any reading device. Perhaps Amazon hoped that MobiPocket users would swarm to them and become instant customers… but considering the track record of companies that had bought their way into the e-book industry previously, that was not likely to happen.
Although Amazon had a lot going for it—an extensive reach into the publishing world, impressive corporate power, and now a stable e-book format—they did not have the overwhelming support of publishers. In fact, publishers would have been just as happy to opt out of the whole e-book project right off the bat. However, Amazon had a lot of clout, mainly because they were one of the major international booksellers in the industry. They were able to convince the publishers to go with them as e-book sellers, and the publishers, concerned over the possibility of losing major markets by defying Amazon, tentatively agreed.
They did have a stipulation, though: They wanted their content protected from piracy. And they left it up to Amazon to work that little problem out.
Amazon’s solution was very similar to Apple’s iPod/iTunes model: An integrated store and hardware device combination that would allow Amazon some control over the delivery of content. For the hardware component, Amazon decided to provide the hardware: Amazon’s Kindle e-book reader, one of the first of the eInk-screened devices on the market, and with the instant-gratification ability to download new books wirelessly, provided a buying and reading experience that was very different from that of other reading devices. A major advantage to the device was its eInk screen, a new display technology that more closely simulated the experience of reading on paper than LCD displays, something that many consumers demanded in order to make e-book reading work for them. Consumer reaction to eInk was phenomenal, and suddenly, people who previously hadn’t considered the possibility of reading e-books were recommending to their friends that they check out the Kindle.
Though the Kindle device wasn’t perfect in its functionality, nor considered attractive in design, it had another thing going for it: The promotional strength of Amazon, powerful and influential enough to sell devices that couldn’t even be seen in a store. Between major press events, purchasing of newspaper and magazine space, arranging for articles and hands-on reviews by prominent people, and of course, getting the endorsement of popular television personality Oprah Winfrey in the U.S., Amazon jet-propelled the Kindle and Kindle store into the American consciousness. Within the first year, Amazon’s Kindle was selling incredibly well, and suddenly the country—not just the relatively few e-book enthusiasts, but the entire country—was beginning to seriously talk about e-books.
~
Amazon had another ace up its sleeve: Winning additional public support by making it possible to self-publish works into the Kindle store. The Desktop Publishing (DTP) self-service system was set up so that independent and potential authors could upload a manuscript with a few keystrokes, and find themselves (theoretically) competing against the latest bestseller in a day. The PR value of this move cannot be underestimated: It put a smiling face on the corporate giant, and drew a lot of attention from hopeful authors.
The big publishers were not thrilled about the prospect of amateur e-books selling next to their own. On the other hand, they had the money to pay for superior advertising campaigns, and were sure that amateur e-books couldn’t hold a candle to their own, popularity- and quality-wise. If anything, it encouraged them to step up the usual disinformation campaign against indie writers and publishers. Amazingly, even some indie publishers adding their works to the Kindle system acted as if the rest of the indie authors were indeed crap, though they themselves were still just waiting to be discovered… so powerful was the venerable Big Pub campaign, that even those authors on the outside, the “unwashed masses,” were sure that getting on the inside was the only way to legitimacy.
For most authors, it did not work. In fact, most publishers still took the attitude that those who had published independently were somehow “damaged goods,” and therefore would never publish them. A few publishers were willing to take on an indie author they believed in, if they thought it would make them enough money to be worth their while. But those publishers were few and far between, and the chances of an author being “discovered” that way were akin to playing the lottery.
~
Still, the splash made by the Kindle, the Kindle store and the DTP system made waves that reached clean across the country, and even overseas to countries that did not have access to the Kindle, but wanted it. Amazon had managed to do what no other hardware or software company to date had managed to do in the New World: In the space of a year, they had singlehandedly brought presence and legitimacy to e-books.
Other companies immediately took notice. Suddenly, the companies that manufactured the eInk screens for the Kindle and other dedicated reading devices were besieged with manufacturing orders, and other companies tried to quickly retool for manufacturing of e-book reading hardware. Pundits were predicting a wave of eInk readers, finally bringing e-books to the masses.
Publishers who had previously shunned e-books also took notice, mainly because Amazon was doing all of the work that they hadn’t figured out how to do for themselves. Because Amazon’s formula seemed to be successful, they allowed Amazon to dictate terms to them, even when those terms were rather harsh. But even if they weren’t thrilled with their profit margins, they could hardly argue with Amazon’s results. E-books suddenly seemed to work, and they inspired the inevitable attempts by other e-booksellers to copy their business model.
But, as pointed out earlier, Amazon’s system depended on artificially tying their e-books to a reading device, to mimic the “physical product” model that the industry was familiar with. And that model was a throwback to pre-21st century business models. Only Amazon sold the Kindle, and it was too early in the history of the Kindle store to find out what would happen if the public decided they didn’t like the Kindle, the store, or Amazon; how would people feel about getting rid of their Kindle, and losing out on all the books they’d purchased? Would Amazon continue to improve on the Kindle, or would they one day stop supporting it? What about reading books from other stores? Why wasn’t one format the same as another?
Amazon’s bandwagon was big, pretty, and fast. But in the end, it was still being driven just like the other bandwagons, and it stood a go
od chance of being driven over a cliff. The future—even of Amazon’s e-book venture—was uncertain.
18: The amateur authors—Gonna fly now
With the creation of the Kindle Store and DTP system, many professional and amateur authors found a new outlet for their works. The Kindle DTP was quickly inundated with self-published and non-published manuscripts from authors who hoped the new Kindle would introduce a realm of new consumers to their works.
Many brand new authors also flooded into the Kindle DTP, hoping that the new system would not only make it exceedingly easy to get their works published, but would succeed in creating their “big break” into writing success.
The phenomenon is familiar to anyone who has seen movies like “Rocky,” the story of an underdog fighter who serendipitously gets the chance to fight the champion, and proves himself as good as the pros through sheer effort and raw dedication. This is one of the greatest elements (some might say “myths”) of the American Dream, the idea that anyone can make it with enough honest, hard work—and the idea that position and advantage don’t necessarily guarantee success.
~
Many of these budding authors were ready, with finished and proofed manuscripts, and some of them had already gone through the self-publishing process. That usually meant they had paid for a “vanity publishing” and had printed copies of their books previously. The success of those books was all over the map, but to the authors, it mattered little how successful the printed books were: If they had been successful, it was a clear indication that there was a greater market out there, waiting for them; if they had not sold well, it was an indication of the regional limitations of self-published printing distribution, or of an audience not yet found. Either way, the Kindle store was seen as a way to beat the physical limitations that vanity publishing suffered.
Many of these accomplished authors had also gone through the e-book process independently—which, up until the Kindle store, generally meant using multiple software applications, cutting and pasting, manually adjusting layouts and manipulating covers, and outputting e-books in one or more formats; and then setting up websites, creating money-handling accounts, and creating their own online storefronts. Although some authors were willing to do all that, many of them felt that they should not have to go through the trouble of all that conversion… after all, to paraphrase a certain sci-fi TV doctor: “I’m a writer, not a programmer!” They were also frustrated with the many different e-book formats to choose from, and the varying opinions about which were the most popular, the most flexible, the most attractive, and especially how many of them should be considered mandatory to include versions of their e-books to ensure the most sales for the least amount of trouble.
To be sure, there were some writers who didn’t mind all of this non-writing work to sell their e-books. Those who felt comfortable going through the entire process likened themselves to well-rounded Jacks-of-all-Trades, and considered themselves that much more accomplished thanks to their wider skillsets. There was considerable doubt in the community, however, whether or not that wider skillset made them better authors.
Nonetheless, all of these authors agreed that the Kindle store would extend their market, hopefully to e-book enthusiasts who were eager to explore new e-book formats, and to print readers who were eager to try this new reading experience.
~
Of the many unpublished authors who quickly latched onto the Kindle store, many of them had originally sent their manuscripts to publishers and agents, only to be lost in the slush piles; or maybe they actually received form letters registering no interest in their work. Though some authors take this as a sign that they are, in fact, unpublishable, and eventually stop writing, most authors continue to work away at their craft, sure that some more polishing will do the job, or that they simply haven’t been discovered yet.
There were also many prospective authors who had never submitted their works to a publisher before. Some of those, before the Kindle store, had never seriously tried to get published—or even to write. Maybe they felt they had no real chance to break into writing, or maybe they simply expected the process to be more work than they could handle, the same reason why more established writers had not yet gone the e-book route.
The Kindle store was seen by many to solve both of their problems: It would get their work out there for people to finally see; and, once seen, they would surely become famous like Rocky Balboa and get snagged by some warm-hearted publisher interested in furthering their career.
So, many unpublished works came out, and many new works were created in record time, to be uploaded into the Kindle store. The Kindle tools made it easy enough to do: Anyone with a modern browser and a Word file could upload a document in minutes. These unpublished works joined the many previously-published works in the rapidly-growing Kindle store, amateurs and professional authors side-by-side selling their works; a chance to prove themselves against the bestselling authors of the world.
~
The influx of authors swelled the offerings of the Kindle store, something that Amazon was more than happy to see. However, Big Pub was less than enthused, because of the sudden “democratization” of books and authors in the Kindle Store: Suddenly, their best-selling and Nobel-winning authors were positioned next to housewives from Scranton and blue-collar autobiographers, in some cases with little distinguishing them from each other.
This prompted Big Pub to re-emphasize their subtle PR campaigns against non-published authors, promoting the advantages of being vetted by professionals. The publishers also took advantage of their advertising positions with Amazon, and made sure their products were being featured prominently in the Kindle store.
Amazon had other tools besides standard advertising techniques that Big Pub also knew how to take advantage of. Amazon’s data-tracking systems were capable of analyzing sales and providing information to the visitor such as purchases made by others who’d already bought the item being considered, similar products, complementary products, and comments about the products. Many of the amateur authors sought to take advantage of this by directly asking friends or readers for comments, or encouraging sales through the Kindle store, in order to get more “buzz” attached to their products. In many cases, this active “seeding” of comments and positive reviews was seen as a blatant attempt to manipulate Amazon’s system to their own ends.
However, the publishers had been taking advantage of these methods for years, through cross-promotion of their books by contracted authors, and by using their extensive networks to submit materials for comments and reviews. Though they used many of the same techniques that the amateurs were now using, somehow the publishers were not accused of “gaming the system” or taking advantage of their status. And as long as some amateur works still surfaced among their more heavily-popularized works, the publishers could avoid any semblance of dominating or controlling the market, and amateurs could still believe they had a shot at the American Dream.
~
It did not take long before a few amateur and unpublished authors surfaced within the Kindle store, whose works were every bit as good as those available through the publishers—and, many argued, some even better.
Some of these authors had not published before, and so had never had the benefit of the services a publisher has to offer, such as editing, proofing and layout professionals, helping to polish a work to perfection. Of these authors, many had proven themselves equal to second-party proofing and editing… many had, in fact, worked as editors or proofers in the past, and simply applied their already-established skills to the job. Others had taken advantage of professionals or friends to edit or proof their work, demonstrating an ability to follow the same steps as a professional publishing firm, but on an informal or contracting basis.
Some of these authors were those who had published before, but were not bound by contract to submit a new work to a publisher. Those authors often took similar steps as unpublished authors, either applying their own sk
illsets to proofing and editing a manuscript, or hiring/drafting pros or friends to help them with that task.
Many of the stories by these amateurs and unpublished authors were notable, either by the way they so effectively matched the established storylines of Big Pub novels, or by the ways they proved more inventive and unique, showing a writing style and substance that most Big Pub content seemed to be sorely lacking. Many of them were simply tapping into markets that Big Pub was sure had no demand or profit potential, and were therefore ignored.
But the quality of these writers presented a disturbing reality: They proved that the services offered by Big Pub were not necessarily required to be a Good Author. Though admittedly rare, it demonstrated that the major publishers were not indispensible.
The publishers had a way around this problem, of course: Signing those authors. By offering independent authors publishing contracts, the publishers could accomplish two things: One, they could profit from their popularity and skill; and two, they could divorce them from their indie status and sweep their once-independent past under the rug. Very few authors would turn down such an offer, of course, as it was not only a publicly-accepted de-facto statement that they had “made it,” but it all but guaranteed the author would make more money through the Big Pub machine than they could make on their own.
In this way, Big Pub could keep the perception of amateur writing quality low by removing any authors that threatened to upset the perception… and authors were more than happy to go along. Clearly there were a few Rocky Balboas in the crowd, but isolating them from their peers kept their status as indie successes quiet. For most of the rest of the amateur authors, they continued to struggle along, but received no recognition by Big Pub, and remained fully in its shadow.
19: The pro authors—Fight or flight