Will Write For Food

I'm a latecomer to artist/musician Amanda Palmer's TED talk, but her thoughts on the changing relationship between artists and fans may be even more relevant now than it was in 2013. In her talk, Ms. Palmer argues that artists shouldn't sell their work--instead, they should give it away for free and trust that their fans will be generous enough to support them.

Ms. Palmer gives numerous touching examples from her own life where this patron/artist model has worked for her: an immigrant family that gave up their beds for the night so her crew could have a place to stay; a nurse that drove across town to deliver a neti pot when Ms. Palmer requested one on Twitter; a sheepish downloader who handed her a $10 bill by way of apology. It's clear that Ms. Palmer has many fans and this system really works for her.

I love her message of allowing people into your life and not being afraid to ask for help. I'm a firm believer that most people have generous hearts and jump at the chance to help when given the opportunity. I admire the close relationships she's developed with her fans and how she uses social media to connect with them.

Still, I have to admit I'm struggling a bit with the overall message. Somehow, it feels like this barter-economy cheapens art.

Part of the reason why the music and publishing industries are experiencing growing pains is that no one can seem to agree on how much a creative work is worth.  Even Hachette and Amazon can't agree on the price of an ebook. We can price out the cost of paper, bindings, and distribution to determine the physical cost of production, but when the book is turned into a digital format it becomes immaterial. We are forced to put a value exclusively on the content.

How do we quantify the personal experience, the imagination, the skill that goes into writing a book? Even if we determined that a writer should only be reimbursed an hourly wage--say, for the sake of argument, a paltry $1 per hour--most books would costs thousands of dollars to produce. As a culture, we view the artist's time as free, and by extension, their work, too. We balk at $24 hardcovers and $12 ebooks, but happily fork over the same amount for a meal out, alcoholic drinks, or another t-shirt that we probably don't need.

Ms. Palmer touches upon an economic truth--an object's value is based on what someone is willing to pay for it. Sadly, a great many of us have decided that we don't want to pay much at all for books or music. Has our collective attitude toward artists gotten so low that Ms. Palmer's barter system looks like a viable option? Why must the artistic economy be any different than any other form of commerce? When we see the doctor, he doesn't treat us for free in hopes that we'll offer him a chicken dinner in exchange. At a store we don't grab a pair of jeans off the rack and offer the cashier what we think it's worth. Shouldn't we view artists and their works with the same respect?

What do you think? Is Amanda Palmer's patronage model a clever solution to a shifting paradigm    or does it devalue art?

Agents Are Evil and Other Publishing Myths

The recent dispute between Hachette and Amazon has brought out the publishing industry haters again. I've been reading through some of the comments people have been leaving and are shocked by the number of people who are pro-Amazon and anti-publishing. The issue is complicated and nuanced and as an author whose books are available through Amazon, it would be hypocritical for me to take a stand at the moment--but I reserve the right to do so in the future. As a consumer I have enjoyed Amazon's low pricing as much as anyone, though I will say that the company's recent practices have made me re-think the true cost of underpricing books. From now on, I will be making more purchases at my local independent book store.

What I do want to take a stand on, though, is the constant demonization of publishers and agents. Yes,  over the past twenty years the major publishing houses have consolidated to the point where there are only four major houses remaining. Yes, the bottom line is important to them--and why wouldn't it be? Profit margins have been shrinking. Book stores are closing. People are downloading books for free. The industry is in jeopardy. Contrary to popular belief, books are not cheap to produce. Every book that is published is handled by a managing editor, a copy editor, a fact checker, a book designer, a publicist, and a sales team. Then there's the cost of production and distribution.

Even though money is a big issue at the corporate level, to say that these houses are populated by cynical drones is plain false. I have worked with three different publishers in the course of my career, and every editor I've ever met is an extremely hardworking, deeply passionate, certifiable book geek. Yes, they do edit--though the writer generally has veto power, so if I book seems like it wasn't edited well maybe you ought to blame the author. (Typos, on the other hand manage to slip through no matter how carefully you edit. Quite a maddening experience, to which I can attest.) Editors are very fond of their authors and only take on projects they feel strongly about. I'm sure they all want to find the next THE FAULT IN OUR STARS, but since no one can predict what will be the next big hit, an overall love of the written word is the major motivating factor. Publishing jobs pay too little and the hours are too long for it to be otherwise.

Good agents get paid well, but they earn their keep. I worked at Writers House Agency for six years in the accounting department and have had three different agents in the course of my career (two left the industry). I can tell you that an agent's primary concern is for the author. Period. Contrary to popular belief, they are not shills for publishers. They are not unnecessary middlemen. They act as contract lawyers, editors, mediators, accountants, and career managers. Whenever someone asks me if they need an agent, my answer is always an unequivocal yes. Sure, you can get your work in print without one given all the new methods of publishing these days, but I wouldn't try it. An agent's commission seems like a small price to pay for all the services you get in exchange, plus the time that is freed up for writing instead of negotiating a contract or scanning royalty statements for errors.

I just finished writing a novel and my agent has it right now. He's going to tell me where the weak spots are so I can polish it up before we send it off to find a publisher. As he's reading it, he'll be thinking about various editors who might be excited by this particular story and with any luck, we'll find someone who will want to spend the next year working with me to make it the best story it can be. Then we'll all work together to find an audience for it. And it will be a pleasure to be surrounded by professional people who truly have a love for the written word.