Seen in today's Ansible:
"A Games Workshop mole reports sweeping cuts in their publishing arm after a poor Christmas for games sales. Marc Gascoigne, founder of the imprints Solaris (sf/fantasy) and Black Library (game ties), is now on 'gardening leave' with redundancy expected to follow. BL seems safe but the future of Solaris is less certain."
Anyone know anything about this? It's news to me.
Showing posts with label publishers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label publishers. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Friday, February 1, 2008
A veritable flood
It's been a dry winter in New York, with our first snowless January in more than 70 years, but at least we got a temporary respite from the book drought today (along with some nasty freezing rain). Apparently the good folks at Tor wanted to send us all their May, June, and July titles at once, and we also got a handful of galleys from Eos, Five Star, and Subterranean. I'm now a bit less worried about the need for review rationing.
Planet Stories also sent us a package. It contains two finished copies of December titles (far too late to review or mention in notes, sadly) and a packet of Robert E. Howard tie-in tea promoting the forthcoming Almuric. I wish I had my camera here, because it sort of has to be seen to be believed. The label, which includes the appropriately gory and sensationalist cover image of the book, reads "Almuric Oolong Tea: An Interplanetary sensation that's out of this world!" On the back it says "Planet Stories: Brewed to Perfection!" (Capitalization as in the original.) My hat is doffed to the publicist who came up with that idea. What they did not include was a galley of Almuric itself, rendering the tea somewhat less useful for promotional purposes*, but it is certainly very useful for drinking purposes, and I plan to enjoy it.
Me: "They included very formal instructions. Warm up the pot with hot water, wake up the tea..."
Josh: "Crush the tea like the bones of your enemies! Steep three minutes with the lamentations of their women and children!"
Planet Stories also sent us a package. It contains two finished copies of December titles (far too late to review or mention in notes, sadly) and a packet of Robert E. Howard tie-in tea promoting the forthcoming Almuric. I wish I had my camera here, because it sort of has to be seen to be believed. The label, which includes the appropriately gory and sensationalist cover image of the book, reads "Almuric Oolong Tea: An Interplanetary sensation that's out of this world!" On the back it says "Planet Stories: Brewed to Perfection!" (Capitalization as in the original.) My hat is doffed to the publicist who came up with that idea. What they did not include was a galley of Almuric itself, rendering the tea somewhat less useful for promotional purposes*, but it is certainly very useful for drinking purposes, and I plan to enjoy it.
Me: "They included very formal instructions. Warm up the pot with hot water, wake up the tea..."
Josh: "Crush the tea like the bones of your enemies! Steep three minutes with the lamentations of their women and children!"
Monday, January 7, 2008
Feast or famine
As I just posted over on James Nicoll's LJ:
In the meantime, I get to decide whether to put shorter drops (five or six books) in our first two February issues in case this is a real drought, or to bulk them up (eight books) on the expectation of a late-month flood. Fortunately I don't have to decide that for certain until next week, as right now I'm working on wedging every possible March book into our last January issue. Too bad I can't hold some of those over another week or two.
Right now on the "slated for magazine reviews" list I have thirteen April titles, three May, and no June. At the very least we should have more April books than that, and I have no idea where all the late spring/early summer titles are.By December 7th, we had sent out 23 March titles for review, so it's kind of nuts to only have 13 April titles out on January 7th. Those three May books were sent to reviewers on 11/30, 11/30, and 12/17, so we certainly should have gotten several more May titles and at least one or two June titles by now. I guess everyone's taking extra care with their big summer releases this year.
In the meantime, I get to decide whether to put shorter drops (five or six books) in our first two February issues in case this is a real drought, or to bulk them up (eight books) on the expectation of a late-month flood. Fortunately I don't have to decide that for certain until next week, as right now I'm working on wedging every possible March book into our last January issue. Too bad I can't hold some of those over another week or two.
Friday, January 4, 2008
How I do PW stuff, part 2: all imprints great and small
A brief preamble: please to note that these posts are about how I do PW stuff. Other editors may work very differently.
One of the things I love about my job is that I get to send out letters like this.
On the flip side, I don't hesitate to pass over titles from major houses that arrive too late for review (though if they look really spectacular, I'll give them a review on the web). A certain big name publisher who should know better just sent us copies of one of their February titles. December's over and done, so they went straight onto the reject shelf. Right now I'm scrambling to get quick reviews for interesting March titles that just showed up. Don't make me scramble! No one wants a rushed review.
It's PW policy to ignore self-published books, and I think that's probably a very reasonable policy. I'm also not shy about passing on books that look really dreadful or are clearly unedited; we don't pay our reviewers enough to waste their time. What I don't do is reject the unfamiliar out of hand. Think you've got something really great? Send it on over. I promise to give it the same consideration I give everything else.
I've been out of the office for most of the last few weeks due to holidays and illness, but everything's back on track now; look for more "How I do PW stuff" entries soon.
One of the things I love about my job is that I get to send out letters like this.
Dear [independent publisher]:I mean every word. If you're a publisher, fill in your own name there and then send us galleys. (If you're a writer, make sure your publisher does this!) I don't care if you only put out one book a year, or one book every five years. If you can get us two galleys three months before publication, do. I can't promise we'll review them, but I'll certainly give them my full consideration. As an editor, I want my section to really reflect what's being published. As a critic, I want to support the independent presses that keep the publishing industry vibrant. As a reader, I want to encourage publishers and writers who take chances. I also consider it a matter of honor and fairness to give books from independent publishers the same treatment--which is to say, honest reviews by appropriate, unbiased reviewers--that I give books from Tor and Ace and Baen.
I've been seeing a lot of buzz about [title] lately, and I was a bit surprised to realize that as far as I could tell, Publishers Weekly has never received galleys for it or any other [publisher] publication. I'd like to encourage you to send us galleys for review. I have a firm policy of reviewing books from new writers and independent presses, and you seem to be putting out a lot of interesting titles that we'd want to pay attention to.
Our submission guidelines are here:
http://www.publishersweekly.com/info/CA6428088.html
If there's a specific reason you haven't been sending us review copies, please let me know; and if you know of any other publishers who have hesitated to send us galleys for whatever reason, please pass this link and my contact information on to them. We welcome all submissions from all sources, as long as they follow those guidelines, and I would be happy to answer any questions or concerns you have.
Cheers,
Rose Fox
Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror Reviews Editor
Publishers Weekly
On the flip side, I don't hesitate to pass over titles from major houses that arrive too late for review (though if they look really spectacular, I'll give them a review on the web). A certain big name publisher who should know better just sent us copies of one of their February titles. December's over and done, so they went straight onto the reject shelf. Right now I'm scrambling to get quick reviews for interesting March titles that just showed up. Don't make me scramble! No one wants a rushed review.
It's PW policy to ignore self-published books, and I think that's probably a very reasonable policy. I'm also not shy about passing on books that look really dreadful or are clearly unedited; we don't pay our reviewers enough to waste their time. What I don't do is reject the unfamiliar out of hand. Think you've got something really great? Send it on over. I promise to give it the same consideration I give everything else.
I've been out of the office for most of the last few weeks due to holidays and illness, but everything's back on track now; look for more "How I do PW stuff" entries soon.
Monday, December 17, 2007
How I do PW stuff, part 1: "When will my book be reviewed?"
A brief preamble: please to note that these posts are about how I do PW stuff. Other editors may work very differently.
One of the most common questions we get from publishers is "When will my book be reviewed?". I hate this question. I get it all the time and even when I know the answer--which I don't, always, as things frequently get shuffled around--it's a pain to look it up for every query and then send a reply.
There are plenty of reasons a review might be pushed forward or back at the last minute. We might find out in proofs that we have too many reviews, or too few. We might have three starred reviews slated for this week and none for next week, or vice versa. I might realize that three of the six reviews slated for this week come from the same publisher, and choose either to include a seventh review from another publisher or move one of the three to a different drop. A usually punctual reviewer might be late just this once. I can tell you which reviews I expect to publish in all four January issues, but I can pretty much guarantee that at least one of those drops will be rearranged between now and then.
I do understand that some publishers may find this frustrating. Fortunately, with a bit of calculation, it's easy enough to figure out approximately when a review will appear (A), based on when the galleys were sent (S) and the book's publication date (D):
S + 60 days < A < D - 35 days
That is to say, the review is unlikely to appear fewer than 60 days after the galleys were sent, or fewer than 35 days before the publication date. There are always exceptions, of course, but that's a good rule of thumb. As an example, today (December 17th) we received galleys for a book that will be published on April 15th. Since we got the galley today, let's assume it was sent December 14th.
12/14/07 + 60 < A < 4/15/08 - 35
2/12/08 < A < 3/10/08
Of course, since it's an April book, A has to be less than 3/1/08, and A is always a Monday, which further narrows it down; but still, that gives us plenty of time to have the review published on 2/18 or 2/25, and if the reviewer is quick I could even get it into the 2/11 issue. That's a pretty comfortable window.
60 days may seem like a long time. I was a little startled the first time I worked out that number, but it's pretty accurate. Here's where it comes from: the life cycle of the average PW review.
Day 0: Two galleys of a title are shipped to PW.
Day 1: Galleys arrive at PW. Bookroom staff open the envelope and shelve the galleys in the appropriate section of the bookroom.
Day 4: I go to the bookroom and see the galleys on my shelf. I decide whether the title is worth reviewing. If it isn't, I put it on our reject shelf and pretty much forget about it. (I don't log or track my rejects or inform publishers that their books have been rejected; don't have the time for it. I keep them until the pub date is past and then they go on the Free to a Good Home cart outside the bookroom.) If it is, I choose a reviewer.
This is the first major possible delay point. If I think a particular reviewer is just right for a book, but they're already working on something else for me or they're on vacation or whatever, I will wait to send it to them until they're ready to get it. I try not to keep galleys around for more than a week, but it can go as long as two or three if we get the galleys far enough in advance of the title's publication date. More on that below. At any rate, let's say that this time we only waited two days for the right reviewer to become available.
Day 6: One galley is mailed to the reviewer. The other is put in a pile on my desk.
Day 8: The reviewer receives the galley.
Here's the second major delay point. Most of our reviewers can review a book in about two weeks, but some take as long as three or four. Let's assume this one takes two weeks.
Day 22: The reviewer sends me the review.
Here's the third major delay point. I often get reviews weeks in advance of when they'll be published. Today I received the review for a title that's not slated to appear in the magazine until our third January issue. I schedule things this way so that if someone fails to make a deadline, I have plenty of backup material. Let's say this review is slated for the drop that's due two weeks after I receive it; that's about average.
Day 33: I edit the review, using the duplicate galley for fact-checking.
Day 34: I realize that it's a starred review and I already have two starred reviews for this drop. I don't like including more than two stars per week--it makes us look like we give them out too freely--and all three titles really deserve their stars, so I bump this title to next week's drop.
Day 43: I turn in the drop that the title appears in.
Day 46: I answer copyediting queries for that drop.
Day 50: I go over the page proofs and make final corrections.
Day 60: The issue appears.
I didn't fudge those numbers even a tiny bit, by the way. They came out to 60 all by themselves!
Not every title takes two months from receipt to review--it's conceivable that I could get something in today, give it to one of our super-fast last-minute reviewers, get the review Wednesday, and put it in Friday's drop--but I'd say that's about average. Now factor in that we review books at least two calendar months ahead of publication (which in practice means at least five weeks, as e.g. an early March book could be reviewed in the last January issue), and you can see why we request that publishers send us books at least three and preferably four months in advance of the pub date. To go back to that formula (S + 60 < A < D - 35), it's in the publisher's best interests to make sure that the set of possible dates for A is as large as possible. If S + 60 = D - 35, I'll have to rush to fit a review in; you don't want a rushed review, or a rushed editing job on that review. If S + 60 > D - 35, we may not be able to review the book in the magazine at all.
Stay tuned for our next installment: starred reviews. I may also expand on earlier discussions of galleys and editing to PW's very tight wordcounts. Suggestions for other posts in this vein are very welcome.
One of the most common questions we get from publishers is "When will my book be reviewed?". I hate this question. I get it all the time and even when I know the answer--which I don't, always, as things frequently get shuffled around--it's a pain to look it up for every query and then send a reply.
There are plenty of reasons a review might be pushed forward or back at the last minute. We might find out in proofs that we have too many reviews, or too few. We might have three starred reviews slated for this week and none for next week, or vice versa. I might realize that three of the six reviews slated for this week come from the same publisher, and choose either to include a seventh review from another publisher or move one of the three to a different drop. A usually punctual reviewer might be late just this once. I can tell you which reviews I expect to publish in all four January issues, but I can pretty much guarantee that at least one of those drops will be rearranged between now and then.
I do understand that some publishers may find this frustrating. Fortunately, with a bit of calculation, it's easy enough to figure out approximately when a review will appear (A), based on when the galleys were sent (S) and the book's publication date (D):
S + 60 days < A < D - 35 days
That is to say, the review is unlikely to appear fewer than 60 days after the galleys were sent, or fewer than 35 days before the publication date. There are always exceptions, of course, but that's a good rule of thumb. As an example, today (December 17th) we received galleys for a book that will be published on April 15th. Since we got the galley today, let's assume it was sent December 14th.
12/14/07 + 60 < A < 4/15/08 - 35
2/12/08 < A < 3/10/08
Of course, since it's an April book, A has to be less than 3/1/08, and A is always a Monday, which further narrows it down; but still, that gives us plenty of time to have the review published on 2/18 or 2/25, and if the reviewer is quick I could even get it into the 2/11 issue. That's a pretty comfortable window.
60 days may seem like a long time. I was a little startled the first time I worked out that number, but it's pretty accurate. Here's where it comes from: the life cycle of the average PW review.
Day 0: Two galleys of a title are shipped to PW.
Day 1: Galleys arrive at PW. Bookroom staff open the envelope and shelve the galleys in the appropriate section of the bookroom.
Day 4: I go to the bookroom and see the galleys on my shelf. I decide whether the title is worth reviewing. If it isn't, I put it on our reject shelf and pretty much forget about it. (I don't log or track my rejects or inform publishers that their books have been rejected; don't have the time for it. I keep them until the pub date is past and then they go on the Free to a Good Home cart outside the bookroom.) If it is, I choose a reviewer.
This is the first major possible delay point. If I think a particular reviewer is just right for a book, but they're already working on something else for me or they're on vacation or whatever, I will wait to send it to them until they're ready to get it. I try not to keep galleys around for more than a week, but it can go as long as two or three if we get the galleys far enough in advance of the title's publication date. More on that below. At any rate, let's say that this time we only waited two days for the right reviewer to become available.
Day 6: One galley is mailed to the reviewer. The other is put in a pile on my desk.
Day 8: The reviewer receives the galley.
Here's the second major delay point. Most of our reviewers can review a book in about two weeks, but some take as long as three or four. Let's assume this one takes two weeks.
Day 22: The reviewer sends me the review.
Here's the third major delay point. I often get reviews weeks in advance of when they'll be published. Today I received the review for a title that's not slated to appear in the magazine until our third January issue. I schedule things this way so that if someone fails to make a deadline, I have plenty of backup material. Let's say this review is slated for the drop that's due two weeks after I receive it; that's about average.
Day 33: I edit the review, using the duplicate galley for fact-checking.
Day 34: I realize that it's a starred review and I already have two starred reviews for this drop. I don't like including more than two stars per week--it makes us look like we give them out too freely--and all three titles really deserve their stars, so I bump this title to next week's drop.
Day 43: I turn in the drop that the title appears in.
Day 46: I answer copyediting queries for that drop.
Day 50: I go over the page proofs and make final corrections.
Day 60: The issue appears.
I didn't fudge those numbers even a tiny bit, by the way. They came out to 60 all by themselves!
Not every title takes two months from receipt to review--it's conceivable that I could get something in today, give it to one of our super-fast last-minute reviewers, get the review Wednesday, and put it in Friday's drop--but I'd say that's about average. Now factor in that we review books at least two calendar months ahead of publication (which in practice means at least five weeks, as e.g. an early March book could be reviewed in the last January issue), and you can see why we request that publishers send us books at least three and preferably four months in advance of the pub date. To go back to that formula (S + 60 < A < D - 35), it's in the publisher's best interests to make sure that the set of possible dates for A is as large as possible. If S + 60 = D - 35, I'll have to rush to fit a review in; you don't want a rushed review, or a rushed editing job on that review. If S + 60 > D - 35, we may not be able to review the book in the magazine at all.
Stay tuned for our next installment: starred reviews. I may also expand on earlier discussions of galleys and editing to PW's very tight wordcounts. Suggestions for other posts in this vein are very welcome.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
eeee!
There are few things that will make my day like casually asking Bill Schafer of Subterranean Press whether he might someday do a snazzy boxed set of one of my favorite trilogies, and being told it's already in contract. I wrote back "You just made me squee like a Japanese fangirl!" and belatedly thought that perhaps that wouldn't do very much for my professional image... but here I am bouncing at my desk and very quietly going "eeee!" so as not to bother my cube-neighbors, so I might as well be honest about it.
(It hasn't been formally announced yet, so I can't divulge titles. But trust me, it's awesome.)
(It hasn't been formally announced yet, so I can't divulge titles. But trust me, it's awesome.)
Friday, November 2, 2007
Letter from the editor
Dear publicists:
When you send us galleys, please include the book's ISBN, price, and publication date. If I can't find that information on your website or on Amazon, I will assume the book has been removed from your line-up, and I will toss it.
If you do include that information on your galleys, please do not then cover it up with a sticker bearing the publicist's name and phone number. While it's useful to be able to call the publicist and say "Why does the back cover of the galley say this is $16.95 when the publicity materials say it's $13.95?", it would be even more useful to be able to see that under the sticker, the galley says "$13.95 / Canada " right before it says "$16.95".
Many thanks,
your tired, congested, easily irritated PW reviews editor
When you send us galleys, please include the book's ISBN, price, and publication date. If I can't find that information on your website or on Amazon, I will assume the book has been removed from your line-up, and I will toss it.
If you do include that information on your galleys, please do not then cover it up with a sticker bearing the publicist's name and phone number. While it's useful to be able to call the publicist and say "Why does the back cover of the galley say this is $16.95 when the publicity materials say it's $13.95?", it would be even more useful to be able to see that under the sticker, the galley says "$13.95 / Canada " right before it says "$16.95".
Many thanks,
your tired, congested, easily irritated PW reviews editor
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Is there a logic course that one of us could enroll in?
I've been following the debate over the cover of the new anthology coming out from Night Shade, but I haven't said much. It's a big topic and there's a lot to think about.
A lot of the problems I see in the ensuing debate are problems of language, and of familiarity with the situation. The people who are used to writing and reading blog entries about racism and sexism start out weary. They've seen it all before. They have their bingo cards ready. The people who are not used to online discussion of these issues have no idea that the phrases that come to mind as perfectly reasonable responses are not only unoriginal but also rife with unintentional prejudice. The experienced -ism bloggers are outraged (understandably) and say "You should know better!" and the inexperienced ones feel insulted (understandably) and blow their tops, lather rinse repeat. It is all very predictable, like watching two people play chess when one is an old hand who can see several moves ahead and the other learned yesterday and is still trying to remember which way the knight moves. Being able to beat someone at chess under those circumstances says nothing about skill or intelligence or righteousness. It's just about training. Using that training to grind someone into the dirt is, shall we say, less than sportsmanlike.
This is escalated in the SF community, because we all know one another personally, and as hard as it is to critique someone's behavior when you don't have a personal connection, it's much harder when there's history between you, whether friendship or rivalry or mutual dislike. The worst thing that can happen in this kind of discussion is for someone to make it personal--whether by taking critique of behavior to equal critique of self or by turning critique into insult and ad hominem attack or even, in many cases, by saying "I'm telling you this as someone who cares about you"--and with this set-up it's pretty much inevitable.
I don't think efforts to uproot entrenched -isms are doomed to fail, but I do think all these factors need to be taken into consideration if conversations on these topics are going to be productive. I'm serious about phrasing critique as a response to a manuscript submission; it puts it in a familiar framework that in our community specifically indicates a critique of product rather than a critique of person, and there's plenty of room for personal nuance ("It's a fine story, but it just didn't grab me") and indicating where further discussion might occur ("I'd be happy to see other submissions from you/look this over after extensive revision"). It also makes the power relationship clear. Just as editors get to accept or reject manuscripts, consumers get to accept or reject finished books. While someone receiving multiple rejections would be perfectly within their rights to say that their unique artistic vision cannot be compromised by the sneers of the ignorant, they might also start considering whether perhaps some revisions are in order.
As for the specific topic at hand, my opinion is divided. On the one hand, Maureen McHugh's name on a cover excites me as a reader far more than Bruce Sterling's. On the other hand, when I'm urging my boss at PW to send a small press anthology out for review, I point to big names in the table of contents as evidence that it's likely worth paying attention to. (PW has no policy against reviewing terrible books and calling them out as terrible, but we do unofficially prefer to review good books rather than bad ones if we're given the choice.) On the gripping hand, the consumer side is what pays attention to the cover and the reviewer side is what looks at the TOC. Covers are meant to appeal to consumers. Maybe there's even market research out there showing that consumers prefer anthology covers with no more than five names on them, though I kind of doubt it.
So I think the cover should have six names on it: four big-name authors, two lesser-known authors with small but dedicated followings. I think that accurately reflects the TOC, and I suspect the gender split among those names would also be representative. I'm no fan of quotas or tokenism and wouldn't presume to suggest what the gender split should be, but if it's not reflective of the TOC, I'd see that as a flag of possible unconscious bias that might be worth consciously correcting. I was a little shocked to see comments from the folks at Night Shade that seemed to amount to "We don't intend the front cover to be representative of the book". That sounds to me like a betrayal of the reader's trust that can only reflect negatively on the publisher. People who pick up an anthology promoted by five male BNA names may not want an anthology with a TOC like Eclipse's. Why not promote it as the well-balanced book that it apparently is? If the idea is to hitch all those other authors to the BNA coattails, to subversively get their names and work in front of readers who would otherwise pass them by... honestly, that seems a little insulting to both the authors and the reader. Truth in advertising seems to me a pretty laudable goal here. If Night Shade's business model depends on deceiving readers, I think that's a problem with their business model, not a problem with the market.
Does the market need to be changed? That's not clear to me. A big part of the issue in the case of Eclipse was that all the BNAs in it happened to be men, or perhaps that all the women in it happened to not be BNAs. That's one anthology. That doesn't mean that all BNAs are male, or that all male writers are BNAs. It may well be that fewer women are offered the big advances or get the big sales numbers or have the household name recognition or get first novel contracts or appear in small press anthologies or however you want to quantify success and achievement in this field, but this particular incident doesn't prove any of that. I haven't seen any data on those things. If anyone has it, I'd love to know. If not, I'd love to see someone with more readership than I have collecting that information (and please, not via LJ poll; limiting poll-takers to LJ account users automatically skews the data). The publishing industry's apathy towards market research never fails to amaze me. I hope that apathy won't be matched by people on the consumer end of things. Let's get some hard data here and see where it takes us.
A lot of the problems I see in the ensuing debate are problems of language, and of familiarity with the situation. The people who are used to writing and reading blog entries about racism and sexism start out weary. They've seen it all before. They have their bingo cards ready. The people who are not used to online discussion of these issues have no idea that the phrases that come to mind as perfectly reasonable responses are not only unoriginal but also rife with unintentional prejudice. The experienced -ism bloggers are outraged (understandably) and say "You should know better!" and the inexperienced ones feel insulted (understandably) and blow their tops, lather rinse repeat. It is all very predictable, like watching two people play chess when one is an old hand who can see several moves ahead and the other learned yesterday and is still trying to remember which way the knight moves. Being able to beat someone at chess under those circumstances says nothing about skill or intelligence or righteousness. It's just about training. Using that training to grind someone into the dirt is, shall we say, less than sportsmanlike.
This is escalated in the SF community, because we all know one another personally, and as hard as it is to critique someone's behavior when you don't have a personal connection, it's much harder when there's history between you, whether friendship or rivalry or mutual dislike. The worst thing that can happen in this kind of discussion is for someone to make it personal--whether by taking critique of behavior to equal critique of self or by turning critique into insult and ad hominem attack or even, in many cases, by saying "I'm telling you this as someone who cares about you"--and with this set-up it's pretty much inevitable.
I don't think efforts to uproot entrenched -isms are doomed to fail, but I do think all these factors need to be taken into consideration if conversations on these topics are going to be productive. I'm serious about phrasing critique as a response to a manuscript submission; it puts it in a familiar framework that in our community specifically indicates a critique of product rather than a critique of person, and there's plenty of room for personal nuance ("It's a fine story, but it just didn't grab me") and indicating where further discussion might occur ("I'd be happy to see other submissions from you/look this over after extensive revision"). It also makes the power relationship clear. Just as editors get to accept or reject manuscripts, consumers get to accept or reject finished books. While someone receiving multiple rejections would be perfectly within their rights to say that their unique artistic vision cannot be compromised by the sneers of the ignorant, they might also start considering whether perhaps some revisions are in order.
As for the specific topic at hand, my opinion is divided. On the one hand, Maureen McHugh's name on a cover excites me as a reader far more than Bruce Sterling's. On the other hand, when I'm urging my boss at PW to send a small press anthology out for review, I point to big names in the table of contents as evidence that it's likely worth paying attention to. (PW has no policy against reviewing terrible books and calling them out as terrible, but we do unofficially prefer to review good books rather than bad ones if we're given the choice.) On the gripping hand, the consumer side is what pays attention to the cover and the reviewer side is what looks at the TOC. Covers are meant to appeal to consumers. Maybe there's even market research out there showing that consumers prefer anthology covers with no more than five names on them, though I kind of doubt it.
So I think the cover should have six names on it: four big-name authors, two lesser-known authors with small but dedicated followings. I think that accurately reflects the TOC, and I suspect the gender split among those names would also be representative. I'm no fan of quotas or tokenism and wouldn't presume to suggest what the gender split should be, but if it's not reflective of the TOC, I'd see that as a flag of possible unconscious bias that might be worth consciously correcting. I was a little shocked to see comments from the folks at Night Shade that seemed to amount to "We don't intend the front cover to be representative of the book". That sounds to me like a betrayal of the reader's trust that can only reflect negatively on the publisher. People who pick up an anthology promoted by five male BNA names may not want an anthology with a TOC like Eclipse's. Why not promote it as the well-balanced book that it apparently is? If the idea is to hitch all those other authors to the BNA coattails, to subversively get their names and work in front of readers who would otherwise pass them by... honestly, that seems a little insulting to both the authors and the reader. Truth in advertising seems to me a pretty laudable goal here. If Night Shade's business model depends on deceiving readers, I think that's a problem with their business model, not a problem with the market.
Does the market need to be changed? That's not clear to me. A big part of the issue in the case of Eclipse was that all the BNAs in it happened to be men, or perhaps that all the women in it happened to not be BNAs. That's one anthology. That doesn't mean that all BNAs are male, or that all male writers are BNAs. It may well be that fewer women are offered the big advances or get the big sales numbers or have the household name recognition or get first novel contracts or appear in small press anthologies or however you want to quantify success and achievement in this field, but this particular incident doesn't prove any of that. I haven't seen any data on those things. If anyone has it, I'd love to know. If not, I'd love to see someone with more readership than I have collecting that information (and please, not via LJ poll; limiting poll-takers to LJ account users automatically skews the data). The publishing industry's apathy towards market research never fails to amaze me. I hope that apathy won't be matched by people on the consumer end of things. Let's get some hard data here and see where it takes us.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
To whom it may concern
Many publishers and publicists include letters of introduction with their galleys as a way of making it look like they're personally recommending the book to you rather than having some overworked, underpaid intern shove it in an envelope and slap on a mail merge address label. (Instead, the overworked, underpaid intern wedges a folded piece of paper into the galley before shoving it in an envelope and slapping on a mail merge address label.) I would never suspect any of our reviewers of intentionally cribbing from these letters, of course, but sometimes phrases pop up in your brain when you're writing to deadline, and it's not always easy to remember where they came from, so I always glance at them despite knowing full well that the content is full of ridiculous hype and probably factually inaccurate.
I just came across a publicity letter that begins "Dear Piblishers Weekly". I can only hope that was the fault of the above-mentioned overworked, underpaid intern and not the press's editor and publisher, whose signature--actual, not scanned-and-printed--appears at the bottom of the page. Best of all would be a mistake in their mail merge database. I'll have to see if I catch the same error on letters accompanying their future books.
I just came across a publicity letter that begins "Dear Piblishers Weekly". I can only hope that was the fault of the above-mentioned overworked, underpaid intern and not the press's editor and publisher, whose signature--actual, not scanned-and-printed--appears at the bottom of the page. Best of all would be a mistake in their mail merge database. I'll have to see if I catch the same error on letters accompanying their future books.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
So many--four!
-- [Publisher] publicity, this is [name].
-- Hi, this is Rose Fox at Publishers Weekly. I'm working on our review of [title], by [author], and I was wondering if you have the final page count for the book.
-- Sure, hold on. Okay, I've got the finished book here. Do you just want the number on the last page, or do you count the blank page that comes after it?
-- ...
What I did not say: Page counts include all pages. They're always divisible by four--and usually, for trade-size books, by 16--because books are printed on large sheets that are then folded and cut. (This is, by the way, the reason for many intentionally blank pages.) The reason I called in the first place is that the page count on the book's Amazon listing was given as 275, and I knew that couldn't be right. Galley page counts often differ from those for the finished book, so I can't go by that either. This is the sort of information publicists are supposed to have at their fingertips.
What I said:
-- Don't worry about it. I'll just go by what Amazon has. Thanks.
*sigh*
-- Hi, this is Rose Fox at Publishers Weekly. I'm working on our review of [title], by [author], and I was wondering if you have the final page count for the book.
-- Sure, hold on. Okay, I've got the finished book here. Do you just want the number on the last page, or do you count the blank page that comes after it?
-- ...
What I did not say: Page counts include all pages. They're always divisible by four--and usually, for trade-size books, by 16--because books are printed on large sheets that are then folded and cut. (This is, by the way, the reason for many intentionally blank pages.) The reason I called in the first place is that the page count on the book's Amazon listing was given as 275, and I knew that couldn't be right. Galley page counts often differ from those for the finished book, so I can't go by that either. This is the sort of information publicists are supposed to have at their fingertips.
What I said:
-- Don't worry about it. I'll just go by what Amazon has. Thanks.
*sigh*
Monday, July 30, 2007
Galley slave
I'm covering for one of the nonfiction reviews editors* this week, and it's striking to see the different ways that various nonfiction publishers do galleys. University presses and cookbook publishers make beautiful galleys, often full of color photos (which must be pretty pricy, but is extremely useful for reviewers). Self-help galleys, on the other hand, are quite likely to be manuscript pages that some intern got spiral-bound at Kinko's. If you're really lucky, they have completely blank cardboard covers.
* I hasten to note that all of our reviews are, in fact, nonfiction.
Fiction galleys run the gamut. Every house has its own style. For example, Random House helpfully stamps the imprint all over the cover like a wallpaper pattern. Less helpfully, they put a gritty B&W image of the cover on the flyleaf page, where they also put the jacket copy. This is very frustrating. I need to look at the jacket copy and cover image much more often than I need to figure out which imprint the book is under. Golden Gryphon goes one better: the covers of their galleys are entirely blank--even the spines--except for the GG logo and a number that I assume is the book's catalog number. If all the covers were identical, I would just chalk it up to having too low a budget to design and print individual ones. Given that they put a different number on each book, however, they could at least also put the author's name and the book title on the front cover and the spine.
Really, though, the best galleys are the ones that are essentially indistinguishable from the finished product except by the words "ADVANCE READING COPY" across the front (while I appreciate the compliment from galleys that call me an "advanced reader", they also make me cringe a little) and the edition and promo information on the back. Despite the brouhaha a while ago where it was suggested that sending spiffy galleys is tantamount to bribing reviewers, my preferences in this area have nothing to do with whether I want to keep the galley. It's simply easier to give an accurate review with a galley that gives you a reading experience as close as possible to the purchaser's reading experience, and it's easier to do good fact-checking if the author's name and the title are on the front and spine and the biblio data and jacket copy are on the back. For that matter, it's easier to find the book in the piles and piles and piles of books that cover every available surface in our office. We stack our books spine-out, like most people. If the spine of a galley is blank or shows nothing but the edges of manuscript pages, that makes it less memorable, and in turn less likely to be pulled out of the stack and assigned to a reviewer. I would think that publishers would want to make our job easier, not harder.
Look at any one of our reviews in the magazine or on the website and at the top you will see something that looks like this:
Title Title Title
Author Name, trans. from the language by Translator Name. Publisher/Imprint (www.imprint.publisher.com), $XX.XX (XXXp) ISBN 978-XXXXXXXXXX
At the end of the review, you might see:
64 color and 100 b&w photos. Author tour. (Oct.)
Publishers who include all that information on the galley cover have my undying gratitude. That won't affect whether the book gets a good review, of course, but it does make it more likely that the biblio text on our review will be accurate, which is very, very important to us and to publishers. (The worst sin that I can commit, as an editor, is failing to correct an erroneous ISBN.)
At the very least, galleys in book form are really a must. I've seen "galleys" that were rubber-banded manuscripts. We like our reviewers and we want to stay on good terms with them; we're not going to send them piles of paper unless we really have to review the book for some reason, and if we do, the reviewer will approach the book with a feeling of dread and irritation even before the first word is read. I assume that's not how publishers want their books to be approached, so I have no idea why they do this. I think it reflects very poorly on the publisher, and thereby on the book. Why not send a galley that encourages the reviewer to approach it with joyful anticipation? That's not bribery; it's just good sense.
* I hasten to note that all of our reviews are, in fact, nonfiction.
Fiction galleys run the gamut. Every house has its own style. For example, Random House helpfully stamps the imprint all over the cover like a wallpaper pattern. Less helpfully, they put a gritty B&W image of the cover on the flyleaf page, where they also put the jacket copy. This is very frustrating. I need to look at the jacket copy and cover image much more often than I need to figure out which imprint the book is under. Golden Gryphon goes one better: the covers of their galleys are entirely blank--even the spines--except for the GG logo and a number that I assume is the book's catalog number. If all the covers were identical, I would just chalk it up to having too low a budget to design and print individual ones. Given that they put a different number on each book, however, they could at least also put the author's name and the book title on the front cover and the spine.
Really, though, the best galleys are the ones that are essentially indistinguishable from the finished product except by the words "ADVANCE READING COPY" across the front (while I appreciate the compliment from galleys that call me an "advanced reader", they also make me cringe a little) and the edition and promo information on the back. Despite the brouhaha a while ago where it was suggested that sending spiffy galleys is tantamount to bribing reviewers, my preferences in this area have nothing to do with whether I want to keep the galley. It's simply easier to give an accurate review with a galley that gives you a reading experience as close as possible to the purchaser's reading experience, and it's easier to do good fact-checking if the author's name and the title are on the front and spine and the biblio data and jacket copy are on the back. For that matter, it's easier to find the book in the piles and piles and piles of books that cover every available surface in our office. We stack our books spine-out, like most people. If the spine of a galley is blank or shows nothing but the edges of manuscript pages, that makes it less memorable, and in turn less likely to be pulled out of the stack and assigned to a reviewer. I would think that publishers would want to make our job easier, not harder.
Look at any one of our reviews in the magazine or on the website and at the top you will see something that looks like this:
Title Title Title
Author Name, trans. from the language by Translator Name. Publisher/Imprint (www.imprint.publisher.com), $XX.XX (XXXp) ISBN 978-XXXXXXXXXX
At the end of the review, you might see:
64 color and 100 b&w photos. Author tour. (Oct.)
Publishers who include all that information on the galley cover have my undying gratitude. That won't affect whether the book gets a good review, of course, but it does make it more likely that the biblio text on our review will be accurate, which is very, very important to us and to publishers. (The worst sin that I can commit, as an editor, is failing to correct an erroneous ISBN.)
At the very least, galleys in book form are really a must. I've seen "galleys" that were rubber-banded manuscripts. We like our reviewers and we want to stay on good terms with them; we're not going to send them piles of paper unless we really have to review the book for some reason, and if we do, the reviewer will approach the book with a feeling of dread and irritation even before the first word is read. I assume that's not how publishers want their books to be approached, so I have no idea why they do this. I think it reflects very poorly on the publisher, and thereby on the book. Why not send a galley that encourages the reviewer to approach it with joyful anticipation? That's not bribery; it's just good sense.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
A red-letter day
Dear reviewers:
Big words only make you sound smarter if you use them correctly.
When giving a page number citation, please make sure it is the right page number.
Please keep your wordcount within 10% of the limits provided with the assignment.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear authors:
No, seriously, big words only make you sound smarter if you use them correctly.
When running a character name search/replace, make it case sensitive and select "whole word only". Otherwise you end up with interesting new words like "Kateegory" and "munSteveity", which somewhat disrupts the flow of your narrative.
Please make your character and place names pronounceable. It would be nice if they had similar linguistic origins, too. Do not, however, fill your dialogue with alien jargon in italics, no matter how great the temptation.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear publishers:
Please send galleys in reusable and/or recyclable packaging. A sturdy paper envelope is fine, really. Your book is not made of glass; there is no need to pack it in bubble wrap.
Comparing your author to three famous dead authors in the same breath, or rather, in the same breathless sentence, is good for a laugh but not much else. The only reason we read the promo copy is to make sure the reviewer isn't cribbing from it. We certainly don't count on it to be accurate about the spelling of the protagonist's name, much less the quality of the writing.
Putting my name on the envelope does nothing but annoy me, since then I have to carry the books to the book room myself rather than having the nice fellow who delivers our mail do it for me. Address it to "F&SF Editor" like our publication guidelines tell you.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear fellow editors:
Thank you for making loud, hilarious phone calls during working hours. They provide welcome relief from the frustrations detailed above.
I'm really proud of all of us for how rarely we flail our arms and swear at some of the terrible books we get.
If anyone has a bottle of good whiskey hidden in a filing cabinet someplace, please let me know.
Thank you,
Third cubicle on the left
Big words only make you sound smarter if you use them correctly.
When giving a page number citation, please make sure it is the right page number.
Please keep your wordcount within 10% of the limits provided with the assignment.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear authors:
No, seriously, big words only make you sound smarter if you use them correctly.
When running a character name search/replace, make it case sensitive and select "whole word only". Otherwise you end up with interesting new words like "Kateegory" and "munSteveity", which somewhat disrupts the flow of your narrative.
Please make your character and place names pronounceable. It would be nice if they had similar linguistic origins, too. Do not, however, fill your dialogue with alien jargon in italics, no matter how great the temptation.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear publishers:
Please send galleys in reusable and/or recyclable packaging. A sturdy paper envelope is fine, really. Your book is not made of glass; there is no need to pack it in bubble wrap.
Comparing your author to three famous dead authors in the same breath, or rather, in the same breathless sentence, is good for a laugh but not much else. The only reason we read the promo copy is to make sure the reviewer isn't cribbing from it. We certainly don't count on it to be accurate about the spelling of the protagonist's name, much less the quality of the writing.
Putting my name on the envelope does nothing but annoy me, since then I have to carry the books to the book room myself rather than having the nice fellow who delivers our mail do it for me. Address it to "F&SF Editor" like our publication guidelines tell you.
Thank you,
Ed.
Dear fellow editors:
Thank you for making loud, hilarious phone calls during working hours. They provide welcome relief from the frustrations detailed above.
I'm really proud of all of us for how rarely we flail our arms and swear at some of the terrible books we get.
If anyone has a bottle of good whiskey hidden in a filing cabinet someplace, please let me know.
Thank you,
Third cubicle on the left
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