Expecting More from Less

If you want to see what the future of book publishing looks like, check out my classmate’s post on the subject. What interests me most is what Tom says about small publishers and niche markets. In his view, small publishers will continue to suffer from a lack of marketing and sales force unless their product is of interest to niche consumers.

A chronic marketing and sales deficiency is something all small publishers struggle with and Ooligan Press is no exception. Our difficulties are compounded as a teaching press, part trade publisher, part classroom. Add to that a cultural distaste for salesmanship and advertising, lack of funding, and a shocking rate of staff turn-over.

But wait, there’s more…

One of my greatest frustrations at Ooligan is the expectation that we mimmic other publishing houses, even when it’s clear we are not like other publishing houses. The question is often asked: How can we, with our limited resources, do what they do? The answer, of course, is we can’t.

The future of publishing will include big publishing houses, and whether their sales force is selling to online or offline retailers, they will have the advantage. We will also see a rise in small businesses and freelance professionals, empowered by accessible and user-friendly technology. It would be foolish, however, to think that this technology is some kind of secret passage allowing small publishers to transcend their limitations, or that the viral nature of the Web can, like a wildfire, spark instantaneous success.

In a recent discussion during my online marketing class, it was decided that what Ooligan Press needed was better submissions that would lead to better selling books. This was during a visit by Jeffrey Selin and came after he mentioned how great it would be if Ooligan landed an author like those in Chuck Palahniuk’s writing group.

(Yeah, and maybe God would let us publish His memoirs, too.)

The truth is, a run-away best seller can sink a small publisher. If you don’t have the money on hand to pay for printing, you can’t expect people to wait until you do. And if you can’t provide proper marketing support, what incentive do you have to entice authors of a certain calibre? Still, the lottery game mentality of capitalism persists, as if we’re all just six numbers away from total financial glory.

The true inspiration in Selin’s visit, at least for me, was his attitude toward his own small business, Writer’s Dojo. Designed as a writer’s room and a creative-fostering community, Dojo is, by Selin’s own admission, “Not a business plan you’d use if you want to make a lot of money.” He’s driven instead by his passion for writing and his desire to provide a meaningful experience.

In the digital world of long-tail commerce, large publishers will sell less of more. They can sell more products in more forms, but they will sell less of them. For small publishers, the key may be just the opposite. Narrow the focus (find a niche, or create one) and apply all of your efforts there. If the perfect submission does not land on your doorstep, then go out and find it, or commission it. Otherwise, you’re a magpie chasing every shiny object that passes before your eyes and will end up with a nest full of shiny objects, none of which cuts glass.

This is not a matter of lowering expectations, but of taking pride in what you do, however humble. Using the big boys and their blockbusters as our standard of success will only make the rest of us losers. Being honest about what you do best, and continuing to do it well, is not the same thing as failure.

Say What?

When I was in film school there was a group the others called continuity geeks.

“Dude. His sword is supposed to glow when orcs are nearby.”
“They’re not orcs, they’re goblins.”
“Nuh-uh. The goblins attacked them earlier.”
“Goblins and orcs are the same thing. Orc is the Scottish word for goblin. Dude’s right.”
“Whatever. Orcs stand upright and move like men. Goblins walk on all fours.”
“Actually, Goblins are northern orcs from the misty mountains.”
“…”
“…”
“The director probably just wanted to avoid the whole lightsaber thing.”
“Yeah.”

Literary editors are kind of like that.

Studying book editing has been a humbling experience. I considered myself a good writer but editing class forced me to admit how little I know about the English language. I went to the library for help, sat down to perform a book search, and promptly misspelled grammar.

Oops.

I wasn’t one of the continuity geeks. I don’t care if a boom mic slips into view or that a cigarette smokes backward. As long as the thing holds up in its entirety, I’ll forgive the details. I quickly learned that the continuity geeks made the best critics. Along with bits about collars up, then down, and shifting hairlines, there were also insights into clarity of purpose and meaning.  It’s not easy putting your work up for comment, but if you’re able to set aside your ego, the process can only improve it.

The same can be true for writing. Good editing is less about correcting and more about clarifying. Proper use of the language is not always the same as effective writing. I worry about this when it comes to publishing on the Web. I understand that blogging is meant to be informal and not subject to the same kind of scrutiny. I also don’t care much about texting-influenced acronyms, or bullet points in place of paragraphs. My worry is that editors are only seen as grammar police, continuity geeks that will spend hours arguing the differences between orcs and goblins. It’s tempting to think that personality can compensate for precision of thought, that gossip is the same thing as news, and that as a self-publishing writer, you have no need for a second opinion.

I was once the editor for a small community magazine and inherited its political commentator. I found myself telling the writer things like, “It weakens your argument when you call the President a dumb ass.” He didn’t believe me. Today, he has a blog, and twice as many readers.

Born Again. And Again. And Again. And Again.

I was asked to write about a book that changed my life. I’ve already shared part of the list of books that have had the greatest influence on me. I didn’t post the complete list of twenty-five which was topped off with a book I’ve never even read, The Holy Bible. I included it because of the impact its had on the culture in which I live, from popular movies to criminal law. Other books I’ve never read could be considered, such as Sigmund Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams or Das Kapital by Karl Marx, but no book has been as influential or as successful as the “Good Book.”

The Bible is the best-selling book of all time. In fact, it’s been the best-selling book every year since, well, at least since Gutenberg invented the printing press. That’s five-hundred and fifty-seven years on top. This is a book that is sold to people who, by now, are already familiar with it, and in many cases, already own a copy. As a marketer, I wonder if there is anything to be learned by this book’s popularity? Here are a few of my thoughts on why this book continues to be a success.

Mashup: As long as the original is given proper attribution, let people remix and reshape your product. This will only drive traffic back to the Source.

Merchandise: Crosses. Bumper stickers. Same thing. It’s all advertising.

Innovate: From audio books with Samuel L. Jackson as God to Biblezines, keep the format fresh even if the content isn’t.

Free!: The Christian business and professional men’s association, the Gideons, gave away fifty-six million bibles last year. It didn’t put a dent in sales.

Community: Build a community around your product. This idea didn’t begin with Facebook, but don’t worry, you can find Him there, too.

MPFree

In a recent conversation about copyright law and the emergence of a so-called gift economy, I was surprised to find myself arguing on the side of capitalism. It wasn’t that simple, of course, but I often find myself perplexed by what I see as the MPFree mentality. I was appalled by Napster. A friend asked me how that was different from me taping a CD and giving it to a friend. I don’t have fifty million friends, I said.

The person I talked with recently believes that anyone should be able to make a movie based on a book as long as the source of inspiration is attributed. Why? Because the dissemination of information is for the public good. He also believes the book should be free.

“There are a lot of free comic strips on the Web,” he says.
“How do the authors make any money?” I ask.
“They sell t-shirts and coffee mugs through their site.”
“So, they give away the product, then sell the advertising?”
“Yeah.”

I’d rather they just sold the product. It’s tempting to believe that a new economic model will become the economic model, but I wonder. Freebies-as-marketing-tool is nothing new. People love free stuff. Well, except me. Perhaps I’m alone here? Don’t get me wrong, if we were talking houses or flat-screen TVs, I’d buy the t-shirt. As an effective marketing strategy, I have some concerns about free.

People love free stuff!: People who love free are, by definition, people who don’t like to pay. What makes you think they’ll buy whatever else it is your selling? Personally, I would want customers who don’t mind spending their money. But that’s me.

Environmental responsibility: When we say free stuff, what we mean is free crap. Free crap that will end in a drawer and then a land-fill. If you’re giving away your product and then selling the free crap, why not figure out a way to sell the product and help save the planet?

It works: If this is your only concern then why not just slap some tits and ass on the packaging? We know that works.

Perceived quality: Henry Ford once said he could give away his cars and still make a fortune selling parts. If you give away your product, what does that say about it? Besides, Henry never did give away his cars, did he?

I Would Tattoo His Name on My Ass

That is, if I didn’t think tattoos were for mindless posers bidding for some affected tribal street-cred.

(Dude. Harsh!)

Maybe I should explain. When I was in High School there was a group of students that rebelled against the suffocating conformity of where we lived by dressing in black, spiking their hair, and wearing eye-liner. Adopting Gothic style was neither original or daring, and they did little more than replace one clique with another. Here in Portland, the city is full of anti-establishment types. Their appearance is a carefully crafted, second-hand eclectic of the fashionably-sensitive-but-too-cool-to-care variety. I can’t tell them apart. They all look the same.

Anyway, that’s not what this post is about. This post is about whether I’ve ever bought something as a result of an email marketing campaign, a question posed by one of my instructors. It might be surprising how long this post is considering the answer is no.

Or is that the answer?

I’m a focused shopper. Availability and convenience are what’s important to me. I don’t opt-in to commercial newsletters. I do get notices from makers of products that required I register them, and I promptly opt-out or ignore them. I wouldn’t have, political junkie that I am, given my email address to the Democratic National Party if it hadn’t been research for a writing assignment. But register I did, and eventually, donated to Obama’s presidential campaign. It was a first for me.

Barack Obama’s campaign was not just about issues, or even character. It was also about crafting an image. The Obama brand. His marketing, from the now-iconic Fairey poster to Facebook-inspired social networking, was impeccable. The emails that arrived in my inbox were slick, precise calls to action. But that’s not why I made a donation.

Barack Obama certainly didn’t look like any other presidential candidate, but just because he looked different didn’t mean he was different. The opposite can be true, too. Just because you look like the others doesn’t make you a clone. I knew many of the Goth kids during High School, and they were good people. The hipsters in Portland are part of the city’s charm and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Tattooing may be an all-too-literal means of branding, but it’s also a form of art.

We’re all our own little marketing campaigns, with varying degree of success. My queer on the inside, Columbia casual on the outside, Pacific Northwest brand of cynicism is no exception. We pride ourselves on our individuality but our greatest strength is in our numbers. (Duh.) As much pride as I take in my appearance, I’d still have to admit my ass is not prime real estate for anyone’s logo.

There has been much talk about Obama’s online fundraising. He raised an unprecedented amount of money through the Internet, a good example of long-tail economics. Lots gave a little and it added up. That’s why I donated. Obama wasn’t above my poorly sum. He asked for my help, and along with millions of others, I helped get him elected. The Obama marketing team made it convenient for me, and I got to name my price, but as impressive as this was it may prove to be the easy part. Brand loyalty will be much harder to come by.

I Used to Be Snow White, but I Drifted

Sometimes I think Americans have a Madonna-Whore complex. As much as we’re committed to (obsessed by) unfettered capitalism, it seems we are just as uncomfortable with (hysterical about) blatant salesmanship. We ridicule television commercials and then saddle-up to watch the Super Bowl just to see them. We mock PBS for its fund-raising efforts then pony-up for Presidential candidates.

One of the most helpful classes in the book publishing program at PSU is one titled Publications Management. In it, students are taken through the process of developing a business plan and the financial documentation that goes with it. It was a sobering experience. The American Dream, it turns out, is more hard day’s work than winning lottery ticket. The class provided perspective on the process behind many decisions made in the publishing industry, and art-for-art’s-sake was rarely behind those decisions. For those who imagined publishing to be full of high-minded editors cranking out cultural treasure after cultural treasure, it was a big blow and they were left questioning their entire reason for being. For those already aware that Shakespeare wrote for the masses and Kerouac edited his manuscripts, it was an opportunity to learn and adopt the language and practices of the business end of publishing.

Part of the problem, I think, is the poor job Sales & Marketing does of selling and marketing Sales & Marketing. When you mention sales, people imagine a polyester-clad used car dealer perched to jack their paycheck. Viral marketing, the latest marketing buzzword, may be accurate, but it does nothing more than conjure images of boogery doorknobs and buses crowded with tuberculosis.

As a waiter, I resented the label of sales person. It may have been an accurate title but was it an accurate description of the job? I saw myself as a medium between a guest (customer) and the menu (product). If I knew the menu well and asked the right questions, the sales would come. Changing the language used to describe what I did made a world of difference. I began to see my job less as selling a product and more as providing an experience.

During my time in the publishing program I’ve become somewhat of a marketing “evangelist.” Not because I’m a fan of the financial hustle, but because I see it less as marketing and more as communication. Getting the word out is just as useful to commerce as it is to activism, and a great artist without promotion is just an amateur. Yes, trying to convince people that soap will improve their sex life is stupid, but not bathing is no way to get a date.

Re: Email

When did email become so complicated? At Ooligan Press we are often overwhelmed with managing the opportunities and headaches that email provides. It often seems like the latter outweigh the former. A survey of my personal relationship to email may prove that the problem is not so much provider as it is user.

Yaboo!: The first email account I set up was with Yahoo!. I stopped using it because of the ads, spam, and things that go blink. I do like the news feed, however, and I’ll keep it around for no other reason than the archive of messages from those who will appear in my memoirs (and you know who you are).

Webfail: Now that I have some Web experience I try to have empathy for the IT department here at school, but it’s really, really difficult. Not unlike using the required student email. File under: things I won’t miss about Portland State University.

SMac: Apple computers are addictive. They know this and make it difficult to kick the habit. I’m starting small by not using the email that comes with my Mac.com account. That’ll show ‘em.

Emale: This is the account I set up for online hook-ups. I no longer check it because it’s always empty. Except for the tumbleweeds.

Blah: I use this email account for my other blog. Yeah, I know, what blog? But the sender name is really cool and people will be really impressed if I ever get the chance to use it.

MySelf: This is the account I use for family and friends. Those that aren’t already on Facebook.

Homey G-Word: This is the account I use for business and the account I’m trying to fold my other accounts into. Google has some very cool features and one email address really should be enough. It’s also now synched with my phone for the time when I’m forced to choose between paying my broadband provider and paying my phone bill.