The Passive Voice

A good discussion of some typical publishing contract clauses from Victoria Strauss at Writer Beware:

Over the past couple of days I’ve gotten several emails and Facebook posts alerting me to a blog post by writer Mandy DeGeit about her bad experience with a small publisher called Undead Press. When she received her author’s copy of the anthology in which her story was published, she discovered, to her dismay, that not only was there a mistake in her title (an inappropriate apostrophe), but…

They changed my story without telling me.

Let’s see: They turned a non-gendered character into a boy, they named the best friend, they created a memory for the main character about animal abuse. They added a suggestion of rape at the end…

When she complained about, among other things, the gratuitous addition of sexual content, she received this delightfully professional response from the publisher, Anthony Giangregorio:

on the contract, it clearly says publisher has the right to EDIT work. you signed it. are you saying you are a dishonest and immoral person and will now try to deny you signed the contract? well i have a copy right here
and as for the story. the editor had a hard time with it, it was very rough and he did alot to make it readable. despite what you think, your writing has a long way to go before its worthy of being printed professionally.
we did what we had to do to make the story printable. you should be thankful, not complaining. ah, the ungrateful writer, gotta love it

. . . .

Editing clauses are one of those contract areas where there needs to be a balance between the publisher’s interests and the writer’s. A publisher needs a certain amount of latitude to edit a manuscript to prepare it for publication (assuming it’s professional enough to do editing at all–you might be surprised how many small press contracts I see that don’t include editing clauses). It also needs to have the right to final approval–it doesn’t want to be forced to publish a manuscript that the author can’t or won’t revise to the publisher’s satisfaction.

A writer, on the other hand, needs assurance that they will be a partner in the editing process, and that their work won’t be changed in major ways without their permission.

. . . .

Here’s an example of an editing clause you don’t want to see (this and other clauses quoted below are taken from actual contracts in my possession):

Publisher shall have the right to edit and revise the Work for any and all uses contemplated under this Agreement.

What’s missing here? Any obligation on the publisher’s part to seek your approval before making the edits and revisions. A clause like this allows the publisher to edit at will without consulting you or asking your permission. If you sign a contract with this kind of  language, you are at the publisher’s mercy, and shouldn’t be surprised if the publisher takes advantage of it.

. . . .

So what should you look for? Here are several examples of better editing language, taken from various book contracts I’ve seen, including my own:

The Publisher shall make no changes in, additions to, or eliminations from the manuscript, except for typographical, spelling, and grammatical errors, without Author’s consent. Any other edits will be requested of the author and agreed upon between the author and editor prior to preparation for sale.

Link to the rest at Writer Beware and thanks to Sophie for the tip.

PG will add one more piece of general advice concerning all types of agreements: Don’t do deals with crooks or jerks.

Even with the best contract in the world, if the people on the other side of the agreement are crooks or jerks, you’re going to have a difficult time. On more than one occasion, PG has told a client something like, “With some work, I can probably get your contract whipped into shape, but this guy is still going to drive you crazy and figure out some way to steal from you.”

PG has read enough contracts so he sometimes picks up hints of jerkiness in the way the contracts are worded or assembled.

He can think of one contract from a romance publisher that included all sorts of short clauses about minor items he doesn’t usually see in publishing contracts. The net impression for PG was that the owner of the publisher was a control freak who was going to tell the author exactly how every little thing would be and expected no back talk. The answer to any question or objection by the author would be, “I’m the publisher and you’re not.”

Science fiction is no more written for scientists than ghost stories are written for ghosts.

Brian Aldiss

From PC Magazine:

While rumors have been circulating for months about Apple releasing a smaller version of the iPad, rival tablet maker Amazon might be looking to do just the opposite, according to a new report.

DigiTimes reported that “market rumors” indicate that Amazon is planning to launch a 10.1-inch Kindle Fire in the third quarter of the year. The Kindle Fire currently has a 7-inch screen.

Amazon is reportedly looking to simplify its product lineup and launch the 10.1-inch Kindle Fire tablet to compete with Apple’s iPad, which has a 9.7-inch screen.

. . . .

Meanwhile, rumors have been flying for months that Apple is working on an iPad with a smaller screen, which would compete with Amazon’s affordably priced tablet.

The rumors first cropped up back in December, when Apple reportedly purchased 7.85-inch panels from LG Display and AU Optronics. Last week, the website iMore claimed to have a “reliable” source who said Apple is planning to release a smaller version of its coveted tablet in October for $200 to $250. The Cupertino tech giant is looking to price its so-called iPad mini aggressively to “leave absolutely no space for competitors,” the site reported.

Link to the rest at PC Magazine

Price competition can be great for consumers.

From screenwriter Aaron Ginsburg, a story demonstrating that authors of work not appearing in book form are also disrespected sometimes:

So there I was, standing on the stage next to Rachael Leigh Cook before a packed, wildly appreciative audience at the Sundance Film Festival. Flashbulbs were popping. Next to Rachael, another star, Johnny Galecki, gestured to my writing partner Wade and me, “Who are those guys?” Rachael shot him a stern look, “They’re the writers.”

We wrote the film as a favor.  Kevin, an up-and-coming director who was attached to direct one of our feature scripts, called one day asking for help.  He had an idea for a short film and wondered if Wade and I would “take a pass” on the script.

Wade was skeptical at first, but I thought it would be a great way to demonstrate how well the three of us could work together.  If we pulled off a quality short, it would only strengthen the viability of Kevin (as a first time feature director) and of us (as first time feature writers).  Kevin faxed the script the very next day.

However, after a cursory glance, we realized certain things were notably missing from Kevin’s “draft.”  Things like structure, plot, snappy dialogue… even basic fundamental formatting.  Kevin had a nice concept and a few good sight gags, but did he have a short film here?  No.

For the next week, we rewrote Kevin’s entire “script.”  We added characters.  We added dialogue and tone and clever punchlines.  Hell, we even added a cat.  Kevin was pleased, and soon cameras were rented, actors cast, and we were filming the sucker on 35mm.

About a month later, Kevin called, ecstatic:  “We got into Sundance!”

. . . .

It turned out, Robert Redford had even better news for us.  In addition to our Golden Ticket to Park City, our little short would also be premiering in a prime slot before a feature starring Rachael Leigh Cook and Johnny Galecki.  Sundance received over 3,500 shorts that year and selected only 90.  From the 90, only five were chosen to screen before features.  We’d lucked into one of the highest-profile spots of the entire festival.

We reveled in our good fortune, but the exciting news was eventually undermined by the ego-shattering discovery that we wouldn’t be receiving complimentary tickets to see our own film.  Kevin would.  Sure.  He was the director.  The production company that produced our film would, of course.  They were producers.  But we were the writers.  We would have to purchase tickets just like everybody else.  I’m pretty sure the second assistant grip’s sister’s boyfriend gets better treatment.

. . . .

While packing up the car for the trek to Utah, our lawyer called.  She’d watched our film and was confused.  “Funny short.  Any clue why you’re not credited as the writers?”

My heart stopped.  “What…?”

Our lawyer continued, “Yeah, the credits read, ‘Written and Directed by Kevin Lee.’  Toward the end of the crawl, I did find you guys listed under something called ‘additional writing.’”

. . . .

While walking down Park City’s quaint Main Street searching for the theater that would be premiering our film (without us?) later that day, Wade and I tried to remain optimistic.

“What if we stood outside wearing a big sign that reads, ‘We Wrote This Movie And We Can’t Get Tickets’?”

“Or Credit… ” he added.

. . . .

The theater doors opened, and the previously calm ticket-holders made a mad dash for the entrance: rowdy, careless, frenzied, embodying the spirit of a good, old-fashioned soccer riot.

We grabbed two seats right in the center.  A few rows ahead, I spotted Kevin schmoozing it up.  We made eye contact and Kevin grinned, showing no remorse, even giving me a “thumbs up.”  I forced a smile and offered him a peace sign.

. . . .

“Before the Q and A, I want to do something that never happens at these festivals.”  The feature director was at the podium addressing the enthusiastic crowd. “This never happens, but, could the writers and director of the short that kicked this evening off come up here and join me?”

The audience broke into applause as Wade and I tentatively rose from our seats.  We hadn’t asked for anything, but the director clearly wanted to pay us back for helping his family get in to see his film.  His gesture would work brilliantly as sweet justice, forcing Kevin to acknowledge us, in front of this giant crowd, as the guys who, you know, actually wrote his hit short.  We reached the front of the stage at the same time as Kevin.

. . . .

So, there I was, standing on the stage next to Rachael Leigh Cook before a packed, wildly appreciative audience at Sundance.  We’d overcome the odds.  We’d gotten tickets.  We’d gotten seats.  And while our names hadn’t been seen on the screen, we were now getting credit the old-fashioned way.

Next to Rachael, Johnny Galecki gestured flippantly toward Wade and me, “Who are those guys?”

Rachael shot him a stern look, “They’re the writers.”

Damn right.

Kristine Kathryn Rusch writes about the recent New York Times article that described a brutal 2,000 words per day writing pace. As usual, she picks out some important points most of us overlooked:

The New York Times article deals with what seems like, to traditional publishers and bestsellers, a rapid change in publishing. For decades, publishers forced bestselling writers to slow down to create demand for a product.  Traditional publishers ignored evidence that readers wanted as much product as they could get from their favorite writers, calling writers like Nora Roberts, who publishes on average six books per year (plus some novellas), outliers whose fans were “unusually rabid.”

Stephen King writes about the difficulties in slowing down in the opening to Bag of Bones. The writer in that novel writes his normal four-to-six books per year, and puts all but two in a drawer, as “reserve” for times when he’s ill or unable to write.

The slowdown that publishers forced on their writers—with no evidence that it created more demand—was unnatural, and difficult to maintain.

. . . .

So why, in reality, did publishers force the slowdown? Money, time, and attention. But mostly, money.

Two months ago, I showed you how much it costs traditional publishers to produce a book. The average cost of a midlist novel is $250,000. It costs more to produce a bestseller—more paper costs, more shipping costs, and primarily more promotion cost. Until a few years ago, the average profit margin a publisher expected to make on a book was four percent. That meant if a book—even a bestselling book—sold fewer copies than expected, the profit margin for that book got eaten up fairly quickly.

Traditional publishers have a two-to-three year publishing schedule. It has some give, but not much. So if the publisher plans to publish four titles by Big Bestseller Guy in 2012, and the second of those four titles sells marginally less than the first, the publisher will start to panic.

Because the money in books three and four has already been invested into those projects. In fact, most of that money has been spent long ago. If Big Bestseller Guy publishes four books in 2012, you can bet he also has four books on the schedule in 2013 and 2014, and a lot of that money has also been spent.

Four books per year by Big Bestseller Guy was a gamble too large for most traditional publishers to take unless Big Bestseller Guy was SuperHuge Bestseller Person, like Nora Roberts, whose books outsold her competition two to one. You could take that kind of gamble on SuperHuge Bestseller Person because her books made more than a four percent profit, so a loss on book two of four books in 2012 probably won’t hurt the bottom line much at all.

But most bestsellers still operated within that four percent margin, and so publishers were unwilling to rock the boat.

. . . .

Then the e-publishing revolution hit. While publishing profits went up, they went up only on the digital side. Every other indicator, from hardcover to mass market went down.

In the March 19^th issue, Publishers Weekly published its annual Facts & Figures for publishing. The article that lead the examination of 2011’s numerical state of hardcover publishing had this headline: “Lower Unit Sales, Fewer Titles.”

Realize that PW’s F&F issue concerns itself with bestsellers only. No one looks at the numbers for the midlist. The only bestsellers that get counted “are based on shipped-and-billed figures supplied by publishers for new books with sales of 100,000+; all reflect only 2011 domestic retail sales for print books.”

No e-books, no self-published books, and tellingly, no returns. Since we’re dealing with print books, we have no idea if these books that have shipped and billed at 100,000 copies actually sold 50,000, 75,000 or 95,000 copies. That’s why publishers hold reserve against returns (which can happen up to a year after publication) and why these figures must be taken with a grain of salt.

That said, realize that these figures are the highest calculation of sales possible. Actual sales will be lower.

And the key here is that fewer books sold at 100,000 copies in 2011 in paper and fewer new authors made bestseller lists in paper in 2011.

. . . .

Writers make significantly less on their e-book sales, even—especially—bestselling titles. Publishers are doing their best to get rid of the mass market paperback, by producing fewer and by putting most books into trade paper (as the paper format). Publishers are starting to think of the “cheap” edition of the book as the e-book, which is great for publishers, but crappy for bestsellers and other writers, because the e-book royalty terms are abysmal.

No matter what traditional publishers say, e-books cost less to produce. There are no returns on e-books, so publishers don’t have to produce two books to sell one, and publishers pay the authors less. So of course, publishers are moving traditional writers into e-books.

And self-published authors taught publishers something that they should have already known: Readers want a lot of books by their favorite authors.

Which has forced traditional publishing into a complete reversal of the editorial model it held just three years ago. Back then, writers were discouraged from publishing a lot of books. Now, publishers want as many books as possible.

Especially e-book-only novellas. Ironically, as you’ll note from the New York Times story, bestselling authors usually don’t get an advance on the short e-books they write for their publishers. And bestsellers get the same crappy royalty the rest of us do.

When I first heard this from a bestseller friend of mine, I simply assumed he hadn’t negotiated hard enough for an advance. (He hadn’t. He has since gotten better about this.) Then I heard from bestselling romance writer after bestselling romance writer, all of whom were asked to write novellas for no advance and crappy terms—and most of whom did so. (!!!!)

Traditionally published bestsellers are being told that writing the short story/novella length  piece will aid in the sales of the next book, so therefore the short work is simply part of marketing—like a long book tour. Yeah, it’ll take your time from your next paying project, but you’re already doing a tour for free, so why not do this too?

. . . .

The key quote in the New York Times article isn’t Scottoline’s “brutal” schedule, which everyone seems to talk about, but a quote from internationally bestselling thriller writer Lee Child:

“Everybody’s doing a little more,” said Child. “It seems like we’re all running faster to stay in the same place.”

Exactly. And it doesn’t just seem that way. It is that way for bestselling authors. They signed contracts that give them spectacular (in traditional publishing terms) royalties on their hardcovers, with escalators that provide even more profit when the book sells more than 150,000 copies, 250,000 copies, 500,000 copies and so on. The escalators and excellent royalty rates exist on the mass market paperback side too (and mass market is being slowly phased out).

The royalties aren’t as good for most bestselling writers on trade paper, because ten years ago when those royalty rates got negotiated, no one thought the trade paper format would ever replace mass market. What no one realized is that trade paper cannibalized hardcover as the hardcovers got too expensive. Even so, the bestsellers still get better royalty rates on their trade papers than they do on e-books.

Every writer gets better terms from traditional publishing on paper formats than they do on e-formats.

With paper sales down and e-book sales up, even if a bestseller sells more total copies of a book than they did of a similar book the year before, the bestseller is going to get smaller and smaller paychecks. Advances are way down, due to the recession—even for bestsellers—and now royalties are down too.

Link to much more at Kristine Kathryn Rusch

From The Swivet:

A recent comment on a writing blog caused me to start mumbling under my breath and making impolite mutterings to my cats and furniture. (This is what one does when one is housebound and sick for a long time.) I’m paraphrasing the commenter here, who said something to the effect that s/he missed the good old days of publishing, when writers only had to write the books and publishers marketed them all, but alas, writers no longer live in that world and now we are (wailing and gnashing of teeth!) forced to (horrors!) self-promote!!!

I have news for you: We have never lived in that fantasy world.

Not ever.

Most authors have been responsible for the bulk of their own self-promotion all the way back to Dickens’ time. (And Dickens was a master of self-promotion, by the way.) Because publishing brings in such a narrow margin of profit, publishers have always relegated the bulk of their promotional resources to those books that they see as their best opportunity for a return on their investment. And the more money they have invested in the manuscript, the more they’re going to want to promote that manuscript. It’s pretty simple math.

. . . .

Well, stop whining and suck it up. Every job comes with unpleasant tasks, even being a published writer.

When I first started working in bookstores in the early 1980s, new authors came by our tiny little store every week to self-promote, setting up their own signings, and leaving flyers, brochures and sample chapters that they’d created themselves. And might I remind you that this was years before word processors, people. Think about how much time and energy they’d invested. (Have you ever tried using rub-off typesetters letters from film? It’s not easy!)

They had elaborate mailing lists – MAIL! ON PAPER! WITH STAMPS! – that they’d use to invite friends, neighbors and business colleagues. (Stamps, people! USPS!) And it worked, because the writers worked their collective asses off.

Link to the rest at The Swivet

I have been successful probably because I have always realized that I knew nothing about writing and have merely tried to tell an interesting story entertainingly.

Edgar Rice Burroughs

From TechDirt:

We recently pointed out that book publishers are fooling themselves by thinking that they must charge super high prices on ebooks. That post seemed to set off some angry folks inside the publishing industry who did the standard thing: talking about all of the overhead that goes into publishing a book. We hear this all the time. But it’s meaningless. It’s cost-based accounting, rather than value-based accounting.

The consumer doesn’t care how much it cost you to make the original.

Nor should they. They only care about the value to them of the single copy they get.

. . . .

In many ways this is reminiscent of the stupid debate we’ve had for years, where a lobbyist from NBC Universal kept challenging me to explain how he could keep making $200 million movies. But that’s stupid. If you start from the assumption of a high cost, you’re not building value, you’re just spending budget. All we should care about is how people can make profitable offerings, and there are lots of ways to do that at a variety of price points — but you should never set the pricing decisions on the fixed costs, because the buyer simply doesn’t care.

. . . .

Your costs don’t determine the price. The market determines the price, and ignoring what the market thinks is a big mistake.

Link to the rest at TechDirt

From The Trichordist:

Given the plight of Chinese poet Zhu Yufu today is a good day to think about the human rights of artists. The human rights of artists is a different concept from intellectual property rights, such as copyright. Intellectual property rights are created by national laws, and the human rights of artists are recognized as the fundamental rights of all persons by all of the central human rights documents to which hundreds of countries have agreed.

. . . .

[T]he International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights . . . was ratified by the United Nations General Assembly on December 16, 1966. It is important to remember that human rights are fundamental, inalienable and universal entitlements belonging to individuals, individual artists in our case. As a legal matter, human rights can be distinguished from intellectual property rights as intellectual property rights are arguably subordinate to human rights and actually implement at the national level the human rights recognized as transcending international and national intellectual property laws.

The Covenant recognizes everyone’s right—as a human right–to the protection and the benefits from the protection of the moral and material interests derived from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he or she is the author. This human right itself derives from the inherent dignity and worth of all persons. The Covenant recognizes these rights of artists (in article 15, paragraph 1 (c):“The right of everyone to benefit from the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he or she is the author.”

. . . .

The human rights of authors are recognized in a multitude of international agreements, including article 27, paragraph 2, of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: (“Everyone has the right to the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he is the author”); article 13, paragraph 2, of the American Declaration of the Rights and Duties of Man of 1948 (“Every person has the right…to the protection of his moral and material interests as regards his inventions or any literary, scientific or artistic works of which he is the author”); ; article 14, paragraph 1 (c), of the Additional Protocol to the American Convention on Human Rights in the Area of Economic, Social and Cultural Rights of 1988 (the Protocol of San Salvador) (“The States Parties to this Protocol recognize the right of everyone…[t]o benefit from the protection of moral and material interests deriving from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he is the author”); and article 1 of Protocol No. 1 to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of 1952 (the European Convention on Human Rights) (“Every natural or legal person is entitled to the peaceful enjoyment of his possessions. No one shall be deprived of his possessions except in the public interest and subject to the conditions provided for by law and by the general principles of international law”).

. . . .

These moral rights include the right of authors to be recognized as creators of their works and to object to any modification of their works that would be “prejudicial to their honor and reputation.” The protected interests of artists include the right to just remuneration for their labor as well as the moral right to the “intrinsically personal and durable link” between creators and their creations that survives even after the passing of the work into the public domain. This rule will no doubt come as a shock to those wishing to sell consumer electronics devices to the “remix culture” bent on perpetuating regurgitative “art.”

Link to the rest at The Trichordist

From veteran publishing consultant Mike Shatzkin:

In the 1990s, Bernie Rath was the head of the American Booksellers Association. (Bernie was not a popular man across the industry. Lawsuits about trading practices that troubled publishers really began with him.) He pushed the idea that publishers should stop printing prices on the books. Bernie’s logic was very simple. He pointed out that you paid more for a shirt or a couch if it was sold to you by a vendor in a high-rent location rather than one in a warehouse on the outskirts of town. He thought it was essential that the retailer be able to set prices so they could raise them if necessary to adjust to things like their rent. Otherwise, Bernie argued, books wouldn’t be sold in the best locations. Bernie thought the price having been printed on the book was what prevented the retailer from charging the “right” price for their sales venue.

My father (who always loved a rabble-rouser) was a friend of Bernie’s and saw merit in this argument. This was one time Dad and I didn’t agree, and I still think I am right on this.

In those pre-Amazon days, it was sometimes necessary for a publisher to sell a book directly to an end consumer. People who couldn’t find the book they wanted or a store that would order if for them (not uncommon for most of the 20th century) would, in desperation, contact the publisher. And the publisher would sell them the book. The publisher would sell at full retail price plus postage and handling. They didn’t seek that business; they didn’t actually want that business. But when it came their way, they extracted the maximum revenue from it. And in doing so, they kept stores from being unhappy with them because, after all, the customer would only buy at those prices from the publisher (and put up with the service issues dealing with a company that didn’t think much about individual consumers) if they felt they had no alternative.

. . . .

As we know, successful publishers unlearn old behavior very slowly. So it has taken some time for the big general houses to shed their prejudice against selling direct to end customers even though, in the digital age, it is actually essential that they do so.

Why?

Because the business of publishing digital books delivered online is entirely different than the business of publishing printed books sold through intermediaries. This was not instinctively understood by most publishers, particularly by big horizontal (not subject- or audience-focused) publishers.

. . . .

So selling individual titles one by one, which is what Amazon does (mostly) and which the publishers would like to be able to do as they build audiences, is a doomed exercise if the price in the marketplace isn’t fixed for that kind for that kind of transaction. If the publisher sells at the full price they’ve established, Amazon will use their power to control price to undercut the publisher and make them look foolish to their audience. If the publisher discounts, Amazon can always discount more.

But if the publisher discounts, they face another problem. Amazon (and every other retailer) would say, with ample justification, “the retail price my discount and margin should be based on is the price you sell it for.” If “publisher’s retail price” means anything, it must mean that! Just like when publishers didn’t sell direct in the all-print world before online happened, the price the publisher says is the retail price is what intermediaries would expect to see them sell the book for.

. . . .

But if the publisher can’t control the price of the book across resellers, then there is ultimately only one general publisher that will be able to sell direct, and that’s the one with enough names in its database to live without any other resellers.

We’d have rules that set it up so that Amazon can disintermediate the publishers, but the publishers can’t disintermediate them.

Link to the rest at The Shatzkin Files

Mike is a smart guy and PG usually takes Mike’s observations as a reflection of the best thinking going on among traditional publishers.

PG will make a couple of points:

1. Publishers don’t get to break the law because someone is competing against them, even disintermediating them.

2. PG was struck by the realization that all the price-fixing was motivated by an attempt to avoid dealing with channel conflict. If he had any doubt about the low quality of management in Big Publishing, this sealed the deal. They’d rather break the law than solve a problem.

Hundreds of companies, large and small, have successfully dealt with channel conflict. In 1999, PG prepared a roadmap describing how to do this for a large tech company that he can’t name. It’s not fun, but it’s far from one of the twelve labors of Hercules.

An overview of channel conflict from Wikipedia:

Channel conflict occurs when manufacturers (brands) disintermediate their channel partners, such as distributors, retailers, dealers, and sales representatives, by selling their products direct to consumers through general marketing methods and/or over the internet through eCommerce.

Some manufacturers want their brands to capture the power of the internet but do not want to create conflict with their other distribution channels, as these partners are necessary and viable for any manufacturer to maintain and gain success.

. . . .

According to Forrester Research and Gartner, despite the rapid growth of online commerce, an estimated 90 percent of manufacturers do not sell online and 66 percent identified channel conflict as their single biggest issue hindering online sales efforts.

Every manufacturer of a product that sells through Amazon and retailers and direct has dealt with the pricing issues Mike describes. The idea that publishers are somehow the first people to face this question or that publishing’s answers to channel conflict have to be different than anyone else’s is crazy.

Where can you buy Microsoft Office? Direct from Microsoft. From Amazon (actually from Amazon and several other etailers who sell through Amazon). From Walmart and Office Depot and Costco and Sam’s Club and a bunch of other retailers. Quicken sells the same way.

What’s the price of Office? It’s all over the place. Microsoft doesn’t worry about a level playing field. Microsoft sets the price it will charge for direct sales and lets retailers set the price they want to set. Ditto for Quicken.

How to sell ebooks without price-fixing is a problem that would only stump a bunch of monopolists.

The reason Big Publishing can’t disintermediate Amazon is because Amazon has worked its butt off building the best online bookselling experience on the planet and Big Publishing hasn’t.

Amazon opened for business in 1995 because the internet gold rush was starting. It began as a bookstore. All the world could see what Amazon was doing and how it did it. Any publisher who wanted to copy Amazon could easily do so. But they didn’t. The publishers probably worried about channel conflict.

The Sony LIBRIé ereader was introduced in 2004, three years before the first Kindle was released. It’s not a big revelation that Amazon used Sony’s ereaders as a model for the early Kindles. Hardware comparisons during this time almost always favored the Sony ereaders.

Anybody who wanted to sell ebooks could have built a business based on the Sony Reader and the Sony folks, who are pretty much into hardware, would have been delighted. Look how much money videogame companies have made from providing digital content for the Sony PlayStation. This was a great opportunity for publishers to piggyback on someone else’s technology into a dominant position in the ebook market. But they didn’t. They probably worried about channel conflict.

One can’t look at the history of Big Publishing (or Barnes & Noble) vs. Amazon and not see repeated failures of vision on the part of the people who were charged with making strategic decisions for Big Publishing. That same failed vision seems to continue today.