is Australian publishing an art, a science or a gamble?
- Written by Katherine Day, Lecturer, Publishing, The University of Melbourne
Jason Epstein was the publisher and editor of authors such as Norman Mailer, Vladimir Nabokov, Philip Roth and Gore Vidal. In his 2001 book, Book Business[1], he described how the once-relaxed Random House – where authors frequented the publishing office (and sometimes slept there), and where editors had stronger relationships with their authors than they did their colleagues – metamorphosed during the 1990s into a corporate powerhouse.
Three decades later, publishing appears much less intimate than it was. And a proposed merger of two of the “big five[2]” publishers – Penguin Random House (itself made up of two big publishers, Penguin and Random House, which merged in 2013) and Simon and Schuster – promises to complicate it further.
As The Conversation recently reported[3], the US Department of Justice has filed an antitrust lawsuit, “arguing that the merger will drive down author advances, result in fewer books being published, and provide less variety for consumers”.
In his testimony, Penguin Random House chief executive Markus Dohle declared publishers are at the mercy of an unpredictable and unforgiving market, rendering them incapable of stealing the predicted 50% market share if the merger goes ahead. “Everything is random,” he was quoted[4] as saying. “So that’s why we are the Random House.”
Other publishing executives described fluctuating calculations for advance payments and costings, and inconsistent publicity and marketing investment.
Chaotic hubs or savvy decision-making?
These revelations have surprised avid readers. Are Australian publishing houses, too, chaotic hubs where creatives seemingly “throw it against the wall to see if it’ll stick”?
Books are commercial commodities[5] in the retail and wholesale trade industry in Australia – but they’re not essential in the same way as shoes, food, clothing or even cars. As cultural goods, books are arguably more dependent on trends and tastes, which are notoriously difficult to measure quantatively.
Publishing studies scholar John Thompson[6] has described the industry as a risk-taking venture that gambles on the success of speculative acquisitions. While educated guesses can be made – sometimes based on whether the title satisfies a popular genre, features a person with a big public profile, topical subject matter or a recent event, or simply compares with a title with tremendous sales figures on Nielsen Bookscan[7] – the calculations don’t always get the expected results.
Read more: The US government is trying to stop the merger of two of the world's biggest publishers – but will it help authors?[8]
“The entire industry is based on hunches,” says literary agent Martin Shaw, who was head book buyer at Readings for 20 years before he became an agent.
“More than half the books you publish either lose money or don’t make money. And that’s true – week in, week out, year in year out – whether you’re a small, medium or big publisher,” claims Henry Rosenbloom, founder of Scribe Publications[9], which has been acquiring books since 1976. This can be a heartbreaking reality for the in-house staff. “I’ve personally spent months editing books, and you publish the book and no one’s interested,” Henry adds.
But surely the heartbreak can be avoided via some savvy decision-making? The prevalence of hit-and-miss lists across all publishing houses, despite experienced and dedicated staff, suggests not. “There was this book we did about a swimming coach legend (though it was more a literary memoir and beautifully written) that I and the editor had endorsed and thought would sell vast numbers. Wrong,” admits Wakefield Press[10] publisher Michael Bollen.
University of Queensland Press[11] publisher Aviva Tuffield agrees. “I don’t really want to name names,” she says, “but celebrity books are cited in the S&S/PRH case.” Authors cited include Amy Schumer and an unspecified Real Housewife.
There’s an understanding that the “dud” could happen to any experienced acquisitions team. Martin Hughes, chief executive of Affirm Press[12], shares that “there have been plenty of books in our industry over recent years that have not come close to earning out”. But he’s quick to reserve judgement, adding he’d “never gloat over someone else’s failures and risk putting ourselves in the crosshairs of karma!”
An industry insider named a couple of recent Australian books acquired for huge sums, amid huge hype. Below Deck[13] by Sophie (now Dylin) Hardcastle, published in February 2020, just a month before the pandemic, was acquired for a six-figure sum and got some great[14] reviews. (Australian Book Review[15] called it “a stunning literary novel”.) But it didn’t make the bestseller charts.
Shiver[16], a high-concept thriller by former pro snowboarder Allie Reynolds, got a six-figure, two-book deal, but never cracked the Australian top ten. “I would’ve thought, for the kind of investment it got upon acquisition, it would have cracked over into mainstream consciousness like The Dry[17],” says the insider.
Stella PrizeTuffield says a lot of “unscientific factors” influence how a book will perform (especially with fiction). There’s the competition factor: is it released in the same month as books by big-name novelists that take a lot of sales and attention – or has a novel with a similar theme or setting just appeared? For a positive boost, a book might win a prize or get lots of prize attention. Evelyn Araluen’s Stella Prize-winning poetry book, Dropbear[18], has been one of UQP’s bestselling titles of the past year. Other boosts include being picked for a big TV or radio slot, or selected by schools.
Of course, publishers work strategically to create the best timing and line up opportunities for a book – but it’s impossible to guarantee a sales outcome.
Read more: First Nations poet Evelyn Araluen wins the 2022 Stella Prize with a 'wild ride' skewering colonial mythologies[19]
Auctions, advances and the ones that got away
“Unexpected fizzers”, as Bollen describes them, are sometimes due to a larger-than-normal advance – which heightens expectations, and thus disappointment when they aren’t met. Book auctions push up advances. This practice is at the core of the US government’s issue with the Penguin Random House merger. The big five publishers have the most clout when it comes to bidding for big books, because they have the most money and transnational reach. If the big five becomes a big four, advances for authors will surely be reduced.
So, how do advance payments work in Australia? The prevailing rule of thumb is that an advance equals 50% of the first print run (although one publisher reports calculating advances on two-thirds of the first print run). But, as Shaw points out, “when a publisher also sees an author as a future investment, beyond the individual title pitched, the level of advance can go up significantly”. So, there’s a rule, but it’s not fixed and is often strategically broken.