Indies and Es

I promised yesterday that I would post today on the question of Independent Booksellers and their relationship with eBooks, and here we are.

Yes, Indies sell eBooks, more and more Indies all the time.  They (and I, frankly) have too long been frustrated by watching their customers browse the shelves, stand reading a book for a minute, put it back on the shelf, and pick up their phone to type away.

And that customer ain’t typing notes for their own novel, you can bet your bottom dollar on that.  No, they’re sending their order to a retailer that doesn’t have the bother and overhead of running a store with actual shelves.

But now, there are actual bricks-and-mortar (or in California, two-bys-and-stucco) stores that can deliver your eBook into your device, quick and easy and at the same price as the big boys.

For example, my own county’s venerable and vibrant Bookshop Santa Cruz.  Take a look at their home page, here. You will see, directly below the “buy books” search in the sidebar, a “Search Google eBooks” box.  If you type in Pirate King, you’ll see my novel, at the same price Amazon sells it for.  My other local, Capitola BookCafe (whose site is here), has a box that searches books and eBooks together.  Pirate King takes you to the hardback that is sitting on the store’s shelves, under which is a note, Other Editions of this Title.  Et voilà, the eBook, same price.

(Although as with the question of e-versus paper-royalties, it’s not simple.  Some publishers don’t follow what’s called the “agency model,” which means Amazon’s versions of their eBooks may be cheaper than Google’s. But let’s not get complicated here.)

Now, the booksellers don’t earn as much for an eBook as they do for an actual physical book. On the other hand, they aren’t bleeding ongoing transfusions into the veins of online marketers.

But there’s one catch.  And that is, Amazon doesn’t always play well with others (see “agency model” above) and eBooks are one of those places.  If you have a Kindle reader, you pretty much have to buy the books that go onto it in the proprietary Kindle format.  Other readers are okay with the Kindle app; Kindle isn’t okay with the apps from Sony or iPad or Nook.

Which doesn’t mean you should toss the Kindle your Mom gave you for Christmas, although for the next one you buy, you might consider one of the android versions.

For those of you who have one of those other devices, Indie Bound has a list of shops that you can support by buying your eBooks through them, here.

If you are a bookseller, or if you know and love a bookseller, you might mention to them two helpful additions to the machinery of getting customers in the habit of buying eBooks from stores instead of Brazilian Rivers:

1. Put up a few notices, at the cash register and on the shelves, to let the customer know that it can be done.

2. To make it even easier for the customer, set up a QR code leading directly to the store’s ordering page and add it to those notes.  Customers can just scan the code and key in their order.  This is what a QR code looks like—point your smart phone at this one and you end up at my own home page—and they’re as simple to set up as it is simple to download a QR reader app to a smart phone:

So, that is today’s public service announcement: Support your local Indie, buy an eBook from them today.

Of course, if you want an actual print book, maybe with the author’s signature, they can probably help you with that, too.

To E or not to E?

(Because this post has become a bit longer than I’d intended, I’ll divide it in half, with the first part All About Laurie, and the more important bit tomorrow.)

Twice a year, publishers send their authors a royalty statement (and, with luck, a check to go with it.)  These are daunting documents, page after page of columns designed primarily to intimidate the author into not worrying her pretty little head about what it all means.  And because they’re comprehensive statements, with columns that reflect earnings back to the beginnings of time for each book, much of what they say is meaningless.  Do I really need the figures every six months for the To Play the Fool hardback, which hasn’t been available since 1997?

However, as you can imagine, the addition of columns for eBooks some years back has made for some interesting reflections on the nation’s changing interests.  Which amounts basically to: The eBook is here to stay.

From time to time, well-meaning readers have asked me which earns me more, a print book or an eBook.  And although my answer tends to be, They’re pretty much the same, since I’d rather people make their choice by what they like rather than what they think it places in my wallet, there’s another question that I personally find even more interesting, concerning bookstores.

By way of a quick (hah!) answer to the readers’ question, I’ll say that the author’s royalties on a $25 hardback like Pirate King are in the neighborhood of $3.75 (they were $2.50 for the first 5,000 sold; $3.13 for the second 5,000.)  Royalties for the Pirate King eBook, priced at $12.99, are slightly lower, at $3.25, will drop (to $1.95) as soon as I earn out the advance Random House gave me, then go lower if (when) they reduce the price of the eBook.

On the other hand, royalties for a $15 trade paperback such as The Beekeeper’s Apprentice are $1.13, whereas for its $9.99 eBook I get $1.50.

These figures don’t begin to touch on the questions of deep-discounting (when the publisher sells at a greater-than-standard discount to big-volume outlets, and narrows the author’s percentage accordingly) or Rights sales (Do I get royalties from large-print and Mystery Guild sales, or a flat rights sale?) and audio books (which have both rights and royalties) and how one publisher’s eBook royalties are 15% while others are considerably more generous.

You see why I tend not to answer the question of relative earnings?

However, believe it or not, this blog post is not All About Me.

What I started writing about with this post was the question of eBook sales in Independent bookstores.  And I will post more fully on that tomorrow.

The two-way pull

By the time I sent off the copyedit of Garment of Shadows the first week of January, my brain was empty of words.  In the last year, I’ve written short stories and introductions, guest blogs, essays, & silly stuff to do with the Pirate King publication, my half of The Arvon Book of Crime Writing, and this novel.  Fried synapses, anyone?

I’m now in the odd position of laying out plans for not one, but two very different novels.  The book I’ll be writing this year is set in Paris, 1929, and is about some of the characters from Touchstone. My shelves are filling with books from the library on Sylvia Beach, Hemingway, Man Ray, Kiki of Montparnasse, etc, and  I plan on a week in Paris this June to walk the territory and remind myself of the city’s flavor.

On the other hand, I’m going to Japan in April, for a book I won’t be writing for a year (yes, the “missing” Russell tale between The Game and Locked Rooms.)  Which means that I have to do a certain amount of research concerning Japan in 1924.

As well as work on a bit of the languages involved, so I can ask how much something is and where is the x.

Maybe I should just combine the two and write a Russell investigation with Bennett Grey and Harris Stuyvesant, about Japanoiserie in ‘Twenties Paris.

Confusion reigns.

Enough with the Sherlock, already

You know you’ve been doing too many events with a writer when:

Life in Baker Street

I’m in New York, for the annual festivities of the Baker Street Irregulars, that wild-and-crazy bunch of Sherlockians (it began as a drinking society, after all) that inexplicably welcomed me to its (mostly) manly bosom a couple of years ago.

Tonight begins with a distinguished speaker’s lecture, to get things off in the properly academic mood. Before which people have a drink, and after which everyone rushes off to dinner reservations with friends. Friday begins bright and early with the Gillette luncheon(drinks beforehand) run by ASH, the Adventuresses of Sherlock Holmes, which is dubbed the “distaff”side of the Holmes world. Frankly, I’ve always wanted to be an adventuress…

Then Friday night, the yearly bean feast that is the BSI dinner, in black tie (No, I do not wear an evening gown: writers are granted the Bohemian exemption.) which makes for an impressive group photo (another annual rite.)

(A thought: perhaps my refusal to don a gown relates to my lack of Adventuress status? One must admit, Adventuresses and kid evening gloves seem to go {ahem} hand in hand…)

Saturday, if you are about in Manhattan and have some dollars in your pocket, you could come to the Roosevelt Hotel (45 E 45th) from 9 to noon and buy a copy of A Study in Sherlock, having it signed by me, Les Klinger, Sj Rozan, Jan Burke, and Neil Gaiman. Also copies of The Grand Game (Les & Laurie) and various other books.

Then we BSI wander off for–you guessed it–a final drinks party.
I may need a few days at a spa, when this is over, sipping wheatgrass tea.