Royalties

A New York Times Bestselling author recently told me that you don't make any money until book #5. I'm paraphrasing:

"Don't quick your day job until you have five books in print, on the shelves. That's when you've earned out your advance and the royalties start. That's when your publisher will start pushing your books harder. Paperbacks are the important thing."

Since I knew he had a (reported) 120k print run in hardcover, I politely told him he was full of shit.

"I only sold through about 60k books in hardcover. That didn't make a dent in my advance. The paperbacks are the money makers."

The author went on to describe how small the advances were for his first few books. Years later, they have all been in multiple printings, and have long earned out their meager advances.

"Hardcovers are nothing but an advertisement for the paperbacks," he said.

I can understand his logic. A hardcover has a shelf life of less than a year--- and usually has only four months (average) to make a sales dent. But while this hardcover is taking up the coop space on the new release tables, it's signaling to people to check out this author's other books; books that have been selling for years.

While a hardcover can make money, the book usually doesn't get into a royalty situation until the paperback is released. Each year, the publisher's marketing dollars push the new hardcover, which reminds people about the backlist.

My royalty statements confirm this. As of my statement of June 2006, both Whiskey Sour and Bloody Mary have earned out their advances. They did this on the paperback releases.

Unfortunately, I won't see any royalties until next year, because of basketing. Basketing is a form of joint accounting. When books are basketed in a contract, the publisher doesn't pay out royalties until all of the books have earned out. So the earnings from Whiskey and Bloody are paying the advance for Rusty Nail. Which is fine. By next year, I should be in a royalty situation. This is a good thing.

Royalties are like found money. You're earning on work you did years ago. Your publisher also likes royalties. They no longer have to spend marketing dollars on your backlist, but it keeps generating income. Earning out an advance is a good indicator that the book made a profit, and the longer it stays in print, the more profitable it becomes.

But how does someone stay in print? What are the minimum sales that have to be reached each year to keep a book on the shelf?

I confess that I have no idea. I'm guessing it varies. But I can make an educated guess on why books stay in print.

First, there has to be a demand. This demand is fueled by old fans and new readers. Word of mouth is important.

Second, your publisher needs to be behind you. They are the ones with the deep pockets who can market you effectively, helping to establish your brand. They are also the ones who decide when to pull the plug.

Third, there should be growth. Steadily rising print runs, and corresponding sales, make everyone happy. As my friend said, hardcovers do sell the backlist. And the bigger the hardcover, the bigger the marketing campaign, the likelier backlist books will sell.

By book #6, I'm hoping to have a dump box (also called a cameo.) These are the stand alone cardboard displays featuring six different books all by the same author. These sell books like crazy. They also cost your publisher a mint, in both corrugation (the cost of the stands) and coop (the price of the real estate they occupy.)

We all hear the stories of the new authors who signed a huge deal and get a gigantic print run and marketing campaign. This is a great thing when it happens, but it's also a gamble.

Building up an author's fanbase with modest print runs and a solid backlist is a safer way to make money. Slow and steady wins the race. And it stands to reason that if your backlist is earning money, there will be more money available to promote your recently released title. Once you're in a royalty situation, you're no longer a gamble--you're a sure thing.

At least, until demand drops off.

That's where you come in.

I've heard a lot of authors talk about the insanity of doing an 8 hour store signing, handselling books to everyone who walks in the bookstore. "I could never do that," they say.

They also say that visiting 500 bookstores in a summer is even crazier. They talk about how their time is better spent writing. They talk about their shyness. They talk about how it's the publishers job to sell books. They say that if they just write a really good book, it will find an audience.

But they're overlooking a major plus of self-promotion; once you're in a royalty situation, every book you sell is making you money. The more you sell, the more you earn. And it's exponential--if you sell one book to a customer, that customer can buy your backlist, your future books, and tell everyone they know about you.

You're not working for free. You get a check. And the effort you put in will sell books above and beyond what would have normally sold.

Is it what you signed on for when you became a writer? No. But if you'd like to be doing this as a career, and someday hope to make a decent living (or a wealthy living) writing books, perhaps you should reconsider your priorities and what you're truly capable of doing.

I've said, from the very beginning of my career, that my goal is to make money for my publisher.

For my first two books, I'm doing just that. It will be interesting to see where it takes me.

Odds and Ends

It's been a while since I posted a tour update, so here's where I'm at on the Rusty Nail 500:

Books signed: 4422
Books hand sold: 244
Booksellers met: 1012
Bookstores visited: 530
States visited: 26

I still have to visit about 50 bookstores in my area, and about 15 in Milwaukee.

Also, though I missed Cleveland on my original tour, I'll be signing in that city on October 16th. If you're in the area and want to buy me beer, email me.

In November I'll be at two conferences, one in Muskego Wisconsin, and one in Manhattan Kansas (which will be the 27th state I've been to on this tour.) My webiste has details.

Remember Doug Hansen, my friend in the military stationed in Iraq?

He's received enough books to open up the first US Library in the Middle East.

Doug thanks everyone for their generosity, as do the hundreds of troops who have gotten books thanks to your efforts.

But, believe it or not, they could still use more books. They could also use things like notebook paper, pens, toothpaste, deodorant, soap, eye drops, sun glasses, sunscreen, etc. Don't send food--it gets thrown away.

If you haven't sent anything overseas yet, consider it--especially with the holiday season almost upon us. Here's his address again:

SFC Douglas Hansen
C Co / 163 MI Bn
COB Speicher
APO AE 09393

Karmela Lejarde, please email me--you get signed copies of my three hardcovers for sending Doug the most books---almost 200 of them.

Apex Digest, the magazine that was going out of business because they didn't have enough money to pay the printer, is back in business due in part to contributions by viewers like you (I sound like a PBS station.) Nice work, folks! I find it tremendously rewarding that the people who read this blog are so supportive of the writing community. You guys rock.

The New Zoo Review

Let's talk about reviews.

The four main reviewing publications are Library Journal, Booklist, Kirkus, and Publishers Weekly. There are also hundreds of newspapers and magazines, and thousands of websites, that review books. Some reviewers are professional (paid.) Some are semi-professional (not paid but they appear in respectable publications.) Some are simply readers without any writing experience who share their thoughts on Amazon.com or elsewhere.

If you're a writer, you want to be reviewed in as many places as possible. A good review in a respectable publication will lead to three important things: in-house enthusiasm, bookseller and library orders, and sales to fans.

Consider Marcus Sakey, whose novel The Blade Itself recently received a starred review in PW which said, "A brilliant debut and a must-read, filled with unbearable tension." Will that help him sell some books? Of course it will. Do you think that made his publisher happy? Of course it did. It also made Marcus happy, and for three days afterward he was forced to tether himself to a chair to keep from floating away.

Any review is better than no review at all. Whiskey Sour received some good reviews: "The best debut of the year so far." - Chicago Sun Times, and "A fine debut thriller." - Kirkus.

But it also received some less than glowing reviews: "This ill-conceived cross between Carl Hiaasen and Thomas Harris should appeal to less-descriminating suspense fans." - PW.

Bloody Mary also got reamed by PW: "Konrath's predictable sequel is no more original than its predecessor."

Oddly enough, PW's review of Rusty Nail began: "Konrath's third outing to feature Chicago police lieutenant Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels, like its predecessors, Whiskey Sour and Bloody Mary, offers violent thrills peppered with hilarious one-liners."

Even bad reviews can sell books. It's better to be talked about in negative terms than not talked about at all. A review has your name and book title on it. If a person sees your name and title enough, it will stick in their head. You want to stick in their head.

Some writers claim they don't read their reviews, and perhaps they are telling the truth. I read all of my reviews. But I don't listen to any of my reviews. I don't take them to heart. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and all opinions are valid. I'd much rather have someone read me and hate me than never try me at all.

How does one get reviewed? It isn't easy. Reveiwers are bombarded with books. If your book is a lead title, you're a brand author, or there's a lot of buzz about it, you're likelier to be reviewed. Your publisher (or you) sends advanced reading copies to reviewers at least three months ahead of your street date, and you cross your fingers.

I didn't get as many reviews for Rusty Nail than I did for my previous books. This is something I'm going to work on changing for Dirty Martini. My plan is to send out the books myself, signed copies with personalized letters. David Ellis did this with In the Company of Liars, and tripled the number of reviews he normally received.

The hitman anthology I edited, These Guns for Hire, hits the streets today. It just received a glowing review in Booklist, which said: "Readers who aren’t keen on stories about paid assassins probably will pass on this collection, but that’s their loss. For everyone else, it’s a guaranteed hit." Library Journal also commented: "The many pleasures of pulp are here in abundance, befitting on several levels the anthology's subject."

I was happy. My publisher was happy. Hopefully it will help us sell a few.

Amazon.com has allowed reader comments for many years now. But just recently, they have allowed people to comment on comments. If you don't agree with a user review, you can post a rebuttle connected to their review.

I've gotten my share of negative reviews on Amazon, and when I saw that I was now able to reply to some of my critics, I considered it. But what would be the point? Would starting a flame war with some reader on Amazon help me sell books, or make me look like a petty egotist?

So I haven't replied to any comments. I do, however, encourage everyone who has read my books to leave comments on Amazon. We should all do that. I've reviewed several dozen books on Amazon, because it's a simple and effective way to support my peers.

And speaking of supporting your peers, while you're on Amazon pick up my latest Amazon Short collection, A Six Pack of Crime. It's six mystery thriller stories (over 15k words) for only 49 cents. There's a Jack Daniels story, and a Phineas Troutt story (which I consider the best thing I've ever written) and four more crime tales, some funny, some nail-biting.


All the cool kids are doing it. Get yours today.

And after you've read it, feel free to review it. Who knows? You may be hitting me up for a blurb one day...

Conferences

Last weekend I attended Bouchercon, and hung out with peers and fans. I had more fun this year than any other, because I was less focused on making an impression and more focused on simply being a nice guy. That meant taking the time to meet new people, reconnect with old friends, and basically smile and nod a lot.

I wasn't on any of the big panels in the big rooms, so my crowd was smaller and mostly made up of newbie writers. This meant I didn't win over new fans with my clever banter who then ran to the dealer room to buy my books. (At conferences, the size of your panel audience is usually proportional to the number of books you sell.) Instead, a lot of newbies cornered me for advice or praise or to ask me to look at their query letter. I'm fine with that.

I heard a lot of folks talking about my 500 bookstore tour, which made me blush. Over the weekend dozens of people came up to me, to offer congratulations, ask questions, or just meet me in person. I managed to sign for a solid 40 minutes at my autographing session, which was nice.

For the very first time at a conference, I felt as if all the hard work building a brand and establishing name recognition might be actually paying off.

Which means now it's time to quit them for a while.

Writing conventions are essential for newbie authors. Go to as many as you can afford, meet as many people as possible, network and schmooze and act like a writer, no matter how published or unpublished you are.

But eventually there comes a saturation point. Instead of your presence being a surprise, it has become expected. The cost of attending, both in time and money, may no longer be worthwhile. You see the same 800 people year after year. You wind up partying with the same two dozen of them. Bouchercon for me has become less about selling books and more about reconnecting with old friends.

If I were rich and famous, I'd treat it like a holiday and have huge parties like the always charming Lee Child, inviting everyone and footing the bill. Lee doesn't come to sell books. He comes to be available to his fans. (Thanks, Lee!)

I'm not nearly at his level. I'm a midlist author on a budget, and I could be doing other things to further my career. Less expensive things.

I don't want to be thought of as overexposed. I might even benefit from people saying "Where's Konrath?" rather than "There's Konrath." There is a value in being missed.

So unless my publisher asks me to go, or unless the conference organizers decide they must have me as a speaker and offer to pay my way, I'm going to take a year off from conferences.

Is that stupid? Crazy? The antithesis of everything I'm all about?

I don't think so. I believe both my career, and the conference world, can manage a year without me. And the several thousand bucks I spend every year on travel, conference fees, hotels, and food, could be put to different use.

Of course, nothing is set in stone. If I become rich within the next twelve months, you're all invited to the huge party I'm throwing at next years' Bouchercon. Especially that Child guy. I owe him a lot of beer.

Conference Tips

Bouchercon is this weekend in Madison. It's the biggest gathering of mystery writers and fans of the year.

If you are a writer attending for the first time, you might be wondering what to expect. Or, more to the point, what not to expect. Here's the quick and dirty version:

• Don't expect to be recognized. Readers don't normally put names to faces, unless you're already famous.
  
• Don't expect to sell a lot of books. Even bestsellers don't move huge numbers at events like this.
  
• Don't expect anyone to attend your panel to see you. People go to panels based on the topic and the star power. If you're reading this blog, I'm guessing you don't have the star power.
  
• Do expect to introduce yourself to as many people as you can. Sit next to strangers at lunch, shake hands, make a good impression. That's the reason you're there, not to drink with your friends.
  
• Do expect to schmooze the booksellers. If they don't carry your books, offer them some to sell at a discount (you travel with a box of your books, don't you?)
  
• Don't expect to get any writing done.
  
• Don't expect this to be worth your time and money. At least, tangibly. It will be fun and exciting, and at the same time sobering and ego-crushing. There are a lot of authors more popular than you are. Remember that you're not here as a salesperson. You're here as an ambassador. Radiate confidence. Spread good cheer. What you do here today may not pay off today, but it may pay off in 2009.
  

Many writers have a checklist of things they need to bring along. After doing a lot of these conferences, my checklist has narrowed considerably. I have some sort of give-away like flyers or coasters, business cards, and extra books in case the booksellers run out.

Many writers also fear public speaking, and do waaaay too much worrying and fretting and preparing for panels. If you're one of those kind of writers, here's a quick tutorial:

I've been to a lot of conventions, and I've been on a lot of panels. I've seen writers excel at their panel gigs, and I've seen writers fail miserably. A panel is a valuable opportunity to shine. Giving good panel will help fans remember you and your brand, which will lead to selling books. Barry Eisler has some guidelines for moderating panels, and I agree with his points. Many of these apply to being a panelist as well, but not all of them.

Here then is a Panelist's manifesto.

1. Be able to describe your book or series in 20 seconds or less. Whatever topic your panel is about, the ultimate reason you're at this conference is to self-promote. This is your chance to pitch the book to potential readers. Here's my pitch:

"My name is JA Konrath, and I write the Lt. Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels thriller series. The books are scary, like James Patterson and Patricia Cornwell, but funny like Evanovich and Dave Barry."

That's all you need. More than that, you'll lose your audience.

2. Once you've pitched your book, stop pitching your book. After you do your 20 second sound byte, stop trying to sell. Your job is to be entertaining. Focus on that. If a question directly pertains to one of your books, that's fine. If you want to make a point using one of your books, that's fine. But less is more. If you ramble too much about your books, the audience will lose interest.

3. Be funny. If you can't be funny, be brief. Studies have shown that if you can't get to the point in ten seconds, you've already lost your audience. (These studies were conducted by me, watching innumerable panels.)

The audience is interested in your answers, but only if those answers are entertaining. When you're on a panel, you're on stage. That means you're meant to perform. If you don't do well in front of an audience, let brevity be the true essence of wit.

4. About that brevity thing. Sometimes your answers may tend to run long. Try to curtail this. You think you're more interesting than you actually are. There can be anywhere from three to ten other panelists, and they all deserve equal time---don't infringe upon theirs.

5. Speak like a professional. Make sure you're loud enough so everyone can hear you. Avoid speech hesitations like um, ah, and uh. Sit up straight. Make eye contact with as many people in the audience as you can. Smile. Laugh. You should only speak if you have something to enhance the conversation. Many writers feel they have to get "their time in." If that time is boring, they're doing more harm than good.

6. Engage the audience. Public speaking isn't a monologue; it's a dialog where half of the conversation (the audience) isn't very vocal. But give and take is happening.

You want your audience to be responsive, to show their interest through body language. Do the people look bored? Get them to pay attention. Is someone burning to ask a question? Stop talking and let them ask it. Pay attention to their reactions and responses. Your responses won't be remembered, but your enthusiasm will be.

Be confidant, not cocky. Never talk down to an audience; always assume they are smarter than you are. Before a panel, I try to shake the hand of everyone in the audience, and hand out a signed coaster. This gets them on my side before I say word one.

7. Look professional. Dress for success. Appearance means a lot. Business casual or nicer. Pay attention to how you're sitting, and what you're doing, the entire time you're on the panel, even if you're not the one speaking. No eating, chewing gum, picking your fingernails, drinking anything other than bottled water.

8. Know the topic, don't read the topic. You will be asked to appear on panels that have nothing to do with your books. This happens. When it does, you need to prepare beforehand and make sure you have something interesting to say about this topic. But DO NOT READ YOUR ANSWER!

It's okay to have notes, but once you start speaking, you must never refer to those notes. Reading is not engaging. Glancing down at a piece of paper is distracting to the audience.

9. Talk when you need to talk, but otherwise wait your turn. When the moderator, a panelist, or an audience member asks you something, you should always respond, but the length of the response should depend on if you truly have something to say about the topic. Just because you have the chance to speak does not mean you should speak.

Passing off questions to other people on the panel who might be better suited to answer them is a classy move. Interrupting other panelists constantly with your monologues is bad bad bad.

10. Interrupt when needed. Sometimes a panelist is monopolizing the panel, and the moderator isn't doing anything about it. Sometimes someone says something that screams for a response or a joke. Remember why you're there: to entertain. If you have a joke, say it. If you disagree with someone, start a polite argument then and there. It makes panels more interesting, and more fun.

Lee Goldberg is brilliant with one liners, and he always makes the panel fun. David Morrell isn't afraid to disagree with his fellow panelists, and this always makes the discussion more entertaining and exciting.

11. Help the moderator. Sometimes your moderator will suck. If the ship is sinking because the captain is incompetent, do something or you'll go down with the ship. Start asking questions of your fellow panelists, or of the audience. Interrupt the moderator if she's talking too much about herself, reading bios or questions, seems ill-prepared, can't keep the discussion going, or is otherwise crashing and burning.

Also, if the moderator doesn't say anything about herself (when I moderate, I rarely even introduce myself) it's a classy move to ask the moderator some occasional questions. If another panelist isn't getting a chance to speak, ask her questions to get her to speak. If another panelist is rambling, stop it somehow.

12. Bring copy of your book with you. Many in the audience won't know you, or your books. Having your book next to you will help them find it when they're back in the dealer room. It's subtle, subconscious brand reinforcement, and it links your face to your cover. Some authors don't do this, because they don't like how it looks. My rule of thumb is: If at least one other author has their book propped up, you should too. But you don't want to be the only one with a book, because that looks needy. Consequently, being the only one without a book looks forgetful.

13. Stick around. If you did well, people will approach you after the panel has ended. They'll ask follow-up questions, bring you things to sign, or just want to shake your hand and tell you how much they enjoyed it. Bask in this, and thank them for coming. Also thank the moderator if they did a good job.

14. Get feedback. The best way to know how you did is to watch a videotape of it. You can learn a lot watching yourself. The next best way is to ask a member of the audience whom you trust. Ask how you could improve. Don't settle for less than the truth. We learn from criticism, not praise.

Remember that facts and opinions aren't interesting. Personality, humor, and conflicts are interesting. You're there to sell, but you shouldn't be selling, you should be entertaining. And if you're entertaining, you'll wind up selling.

See you in Madison!

Support the Infrastructure

I was lecturing the other day (I can't remember if it was in a class, online, or to some strangers in the Starbucks restroom) about supporting the system that sustains us.

How many writers have submitted stories to magazines they've never even read, let alone subscribe to?

You write books, but how many books do you buy?

You've got a new book out, or maybe a few, yet you come back from writing conferences empty-handed because you haven't bought a thing.

Yeah, I know books and mags are expensive, especially on a poverty level budget. But how can we truly expect to become part of the publishing industry if we don't support it with our dollars?

Well, here's a chance. Apex Science Fiction and Horror, a digest size journal available by subscription and at newsstands everywhere, is in trouble. They're one of the premeire markets for fantastic literature, but the editor of the mag (Jason Sizemore) got hit with a large printing bill and no way to pay it. How large? Two grand.

Now two grand isn't a lot of money. But most magazines are a labor of love that don't show a profit for the first few years, and Jason has been pumping a lot of his own money into this magazine since the very beginning. He has no more money to pump.

That's where you come in. Visit the Apex blog at http://apexdigest.livejournal.com/ and read about the uber-cool raffle that is being held to save the magazine. Lots of incredible merchandise is for sale for only a few dollars. One of the raffle prizes is a three chapter critique from a literary agent.

After you spend five or ten bucks on raffle tickets, go buy a subscription or a few back issues.

This isn't charity. You're getting somthing for your money. Besides the merchandise, you're keeping alive one more potential source for your writing. And with the sad state the short story market is in, we need all the potential sources we can get.

This is Your Career Wake Up Call

(ring, ring)

Good morning, this is your career. It's time for you to wake up.

You're in trouble.

You've written a good book, or maybe even a few, but you aren't selling as well as expected.

Your publisher is behind you, but they're spending most of their marketing dollars on books that are selling better than yours. That may seem unfair, but it is the way of the world.

You've done signings, but you've never done well at them.

You've got a website and a blog, but even though you seem to be getting some visitors, it isn't translating into sales.

You've gone to conventions, literary festivals, and conferences, but you've never sold enough books to justify the travel cost.

You're doing all the things you're supposed to be doing, but no one seems to care.

Don't you think it's time to quit?

You're never going to be a huge success. A few good reviews and a few fan letters don't mean a thing. This business is about numbers. And yours aren't nearly good enough. You're small potatoes, and you need to recognize that.

You got into this because you love to write. But now you have to deal with deadlines, bad reviews, and overwhelming apathy toward your work. People may think you're doing well, but they don't know the truth. You spend more time promoting than writing, and it never seems to pay off.

You aren't making enough money to justify all of your time and effort.

Don't feel bad. You gave it your best shot. No one could have asked for more. This is a hard business where only a few thrive. Did you really think you would be one of them?

Look at how many other writers you know. How many of them make a living at it? How many are bestsellers? Five? Maybe ten? Out of the five hundred you've met? Doesn't that tell you something?

Why torture yourself for years to come with dreams that will never be fulfilled? Why force yourself to visit one more bookstore, one more conference, one more event? Aren't you frustrated? Don't you realize that every other author has this same problem? You're all desperate and struggling, no matter how much bravado you show the public.

You'll never make a difference, and you'll never be happy.

Quit now, and save your sanity.

You'll never... hey, wait, don't hang up!

You have to listen to me! I'm the voice of reason! I'm cold, hard logic, telling you that you suck! You need to realize...

(click)

We apologize for the preceding announcement. That wake up call was not for you.

You may go back to sleep now.

Dream big.