Apple Slashes App Store Fees for Smaller Developers

From The Wall Street Journal:

Apple Inc. is halving the commission it charges smaller developers that sell software through its App Store, a partial concession in its battle with critics over how it wields power in its digital ecosystem.

The iPhone maker said that starting next year it will collect 15% rather than 30% of App Store sales from companies that generate no more than $1 million in revenue through the software platform, including in-app purchases. The fee will remain 30% for developers whose sales through the App Store, excluding commission payments, exceed $1 million—meaning the reduction won’t affect such vocal Apple opponents as videogame company Epic Games Inc.

Apple’s 30% take has been at the heart of complaints this year from other tech companies and some users over how it manages the vast digital world of people who use iPhones, iPads and other Apple devices. The policy is also central to a major legal battle with Epic, and to government examinations in the U.S. and Europe of Apple’s competitive behavior as a gatekeeper between software makers and the hundreds of millions of people who use Apple’s gadgets.

Critics have charged that Apple’s commission is too large, is unfairly levied against different companies, leaves customers footing the bill and leads to workarounds by some developers to avoid the fees.

. . . .

A tiny fraction of developers account for the vast majority of sales in the App Store, which is central to a services unit that brought Apple $53.77 billion in revenue in its latest fiscal year. Research firm Sensor Tower estimates that only about 0.2% of the 1.8 million apps in the App Store generated more than $1 million last year, and says that group accounted for an estimated 92% of Apple’s App Store revenue.

The fee cut, therefore, gives Apple ammunition to rebut claims that its practices hurt smaller developers, while leaving untouched the vast bulk of its App Store revenue.

Link to the rest at The Wall Street Journal (PG apologizes for the paywall, but hasn’t figured out a way around it.)

PG was interested in this article because apps and ebooks are really quite similar to each other (although a dropsy epidemic would rage through New York publishing if such a statement were to be uttered within hearing range.)

Apps are electronic code and ebooks are electronic code as well. Apps run on tablets, smartphones, etc., and ebooks “run” on the same devices. Ebook readers don’t use their thumbs as actively as people who play app games on their phones, but, fundamentally, both purchase software for their electronic devices.

Apps and ebooks are sold online through digital storefronts in exactly the same manner.

Unlike app developers, when it comes to royalties, more than a few authors may analogize the sales of ebooks to the sales of printed books with printing costs, shipping fees, physical stores, warehouses full of books, etc., etc.

From the point of view of those who are running ecommerce at Amazon and Apple, ebooks and apps are just two different file formats.

It would be interesting if the people running iBooks caught the spirit of their much larger and more profitable contemporaries in the App department and decided that indie authors are pretty much like small app developers and should be paid 85% of the purchase price of ebooks instead of a much small percentage.

On more than one occasion, PG has been accused of being an Amazon shill because he likes the way Amazon treats indie authors and says so.

However, PG thinks it would be a great idea if Amazon treated indie authors like Apple treats small indie app developers and reduced Amazon’s take on KDP indie ebooks so authors received 85% of the proceeds Amazon collected for their books. (Amazon could also get rid of its ridiculous “Delivery Cost for a Digital Book” charge at the same time.)

Authors Guild Statement on Delayed Royalty Payments

From The Authors Guild:

The Authors Guild stands with the Albert Whitman & Company (“AW&C “) authors’ demands for transparency and immediate rectification of past due royalties.

You may have seen tweets and other posts of AW&C authors recently complaining that they have not been paid their royalties. This is an ongoing problem with the publisher. Over the last few years, the Authors Guild has contacted AW&C on numerous occasions to convey members’ concerns involving delayed royalty payments and the accuracy of accounting reports. In April 2019, we had a phone conference with AW&C’s accounting team and leadership during which we discussed their consistent irregularity in paying authors and addressing the author’s concerns about the accuracy of royalty reporting.

Yet despite having notice of these complaints for years, AW&C continues to neglect its obligations to issue timely and transparent royalty statements and render accurate royalty payments, as is required under its book contracts. The irregularities are not limited to one author or one instance, but multiple authors with multiple complaints. 

. . . .

AW&C’s CEO John Quattrocchi recently stated in a blog post that the publisher will be “making necessary changes to create more honesty and transparency” in the company and setting deadlines to get the authors paid up. 

Link to the rest at The Authors Guild

Typically, deadlines for royalty payments are set forth in the publishing contract between an author and a publisher.

PG wonders if salaries are being paid to AW&C executives and employees.

Book Tours – Analyzed

The post that appeared immediately prior to this one included a video in which the author was performing a video substitute for a physical book tour. When PG posted the video from YouTube, it had received 2,594 views.

PG is of the gigantically, perennially and irrefutably humble opinion that traditional book tours where a publisher sends an author out to visit a number of bookstores for an event in the bookstore to which anyone who learns about the event can attend.

Typically, the bookstore staff sets up some chairs for the audience, has several stacks of the book being promoted spread around the store and provides the author a table and a chair.

Thereafter, the author makes a short speech about her/his book designed (almost always by the author) to induce members of the audience to buy a copy of the author’s book. After completing the pitch, the author sits at the table and autographs books that members of the audience have purchased, often with a trite phrase, “I hope you enjoy my book!” or something the purchaser requests, “For Lurlene from her loving granddaughter, MaryJoJean.”

After chatting with strangers and signing all the books that are purchased, the author packs up, thanks the bookstore staff (perhaps leaving them some candy) and exits the store to travel to the next bookstore on the tour schedule. On a large tour across the US, airplane travel and hotels are involved.

For a really, really, really bestselling author, the publisher might send a minder to help schlep the author around from place to place.

To PG, this sounds like a mid-Twentieth-Century marketing strategy. (“Housewives! Have we got something new to brighten your humdrum day! The latest scientific innovation in kitchen cleaners!”)

Let’s break the thinking behind what passes for the marketing strategy behind a book tour.

  1. The author’s time costs the publisher nothing.
  2. We will send one of our authors to a physical bookstore. We’ll have the bookstore create some sort of poster announcing a book signing by Arthur Author for his latest book.
  3. If the publisher is feeling really generous, it might pay to have some cheap promotional brochures printed and shipped to the bookstore so the store will have something for an employee to sprinkle around for most of its customers to ignore. If it’s colorful, children might pick up a brochure to leave in the back seat of the car when they get home.
  4. The bookstore will have its employees set up chairs and a signing table, unpack a couple of boxes of books, place a few books around the store and stack a bunch on the signing table.
  5. In advance of the designated time, the author will leave an inexpensive hotel room, drive a rental car to the store after cruising around a strange city for awhile, walk into the store and start meeting total strangers.
  6. The introverted author who hates speaking to groups of people will thereafter speak to a crowd of strangers which will always be smaller than the author expected to show up.
  7. After trying to be interesting and entertaining for 15-20 minutes, the introverted author will then have to talk to a stream of strangers for about 60 seconds each, try to appear to be enjoying the process of acting like a homecoming queen, and write something trite in each copy of the book.
  8. Emotionally exhausted, after the last customer has left, the author will then effusively thank the book store manager and staff for their efforts, glance at the large stack of unsold books, and stumble out to their means of transportation and try to remember where the next book-signing is scheduled and when she’s supposed to be there.
  9. If the author is sufficiently depressed, she may estimate how many copies of her book were sold at the book-signing, calculate the royalties she will receive from those sales and realize that each of the store employees earned more on a per-hour basis than the author did for the time she put into preparation, travel, getting dressed up, undergoing the introvert’s torture of talking to a bunch of strange people (including some who were stranger than others) in the store, then more travel.

Perhaps PG is missing some giant financial or psychological benefit that accrues to a typical author as a result of a traditional book-signing or series of book-signings, but he doesn’t think so.

Then, let’s consider that Amazon sells more books than any bookstore or chain of bookstores in the world.

And, the author earns a higher royalty when Amazon sells an ebook than when Joe’s Books and Bait Shop sells a paperback.

But, as always, PG could be wrong.

Authors Guild COVID-19 Survey

From The Author’s Guild:

The Authors Guild recently completed a survey of its membership on the immediate impact of the COVID-19 crisis, receiving 940 responses. We thank the members who responded. The Guild asked a series of questions designed to gauge how the ongoing lockdown has affected authors, specifically when it comes to their incomes and other financial concerns. The first question asked of our members was a rather simple one: “Has your income from any source declined in recent weeks due to the crisis?” 54.1% responded “Yes,” compared to 45.3% who responded “No” (the remaining 0.6% did not answer).

For those who responded “Yes,” we then asked them to name the source of the missing or declining income (they could name more than one if they were missing income from multiple sources). Unsurprisingly, given the nature of the current crisis, 232 authors pointed to “Speaking/performance engagements cancelled,” which was by far the most identified missing income source. Following that was “Journalism” at 93 authors, then “Non-writing related work – furloughed or laid off” at 87, “Partner’s loss of income” at 75, “Book contracts cancelled or payments delayed” at 52, “Loss of book sales or revenue through self-publishing” at 45, and two different categories of “Teaching position – furloughed or laid off,” with writing-based positions identified by 34 authors and other subjects by 26 authors.

. . . .

We then asked if the authors had either just published a new book or were going to publish in the spring or summer. 46.1% indicated they had either recently published or would soon publish a new book, while 48.6% said they were not publishing at this time (an additional 5.3% did not answer the question). Of those with a recently or soon-to-be released book, we asked them if they were concerned about sales being lower than expected (or if they had already experienced lower sales, if their book was already out). A staggering 74.1% said they were concerned or impacted, compared to just 25.9% who indicated they were not.

On the subject of whether or not they’re doing more online marketing than in the past, 37.2% of respondents answered “Yes,” compared to 51.5% who said “No” (11.3% expressed no opinion). Another question asked whether members were having any issues with publishers not fulfilling terms of a contract, cancelling or threatening to cancel a contract, or not signing a deal that was close to final. The responses here were encouraging, with just 8.2% of authors saying this was the case. 84% answered “No” to this question, with another 7.8% declining to answer.

For the 8.2% of authors who did indicate some sort of issue with a publisher, we asked them to explain their issue further and then broke these down into categories. 21 respondents indicated their contract or publication was on hold, with many indicating they were simply not hearing back from their publisher despite previously being in the midst of negotiations. 19 authors indicated they were having an issue with a delayed advance or royalties not being paid. 7 more authors said their contract or project was cancelled outright.

Link to the rest at The Author’s Guild

Kindle Unlimited Per-Page Rate Jumped in November 2019

From The Digital Reader

The Kindle Unlimited funding pool increased by one hundred thousand dollars in November 2019, to $26.1 million, from $26 million in October 2019.

At the same time the per-page rate royalty jumped to d $0.004925, from $0.0046763  in October.

  • November 2019: $0.004925
  • October 2019: $0.0046763
  • September 2019: $0.0046799
  • August 2019:  $0.004387
  • July 2019 –  $0.004394
  • June 2019 – $0.004642
  • May 2019 – $0.0046598
  • April 2019 – $0.0046602
  • March 2019 – $0.0045124
  • February 2019 – $0.0047801
  • January 2019 – $0.0044227
  • December 2018 – $0.0048778
  • November 2018 – $0.0052056
  • October 2018 – $0.0048414
  • September 2008 – $0.004885
  • August 2018 – $0.0044914
  • July 2018 – $0.0044936

Link to the rest at The Digital Reader

The Curious Incident of the Dog & the Missing Royalties

From Dan Rhodes:

Every once in a while my reader in Cheltenham will get in touch, asking why I’ve not had a book out for such a long time. What follows is the short answer.

In October of last year, 2017, I made the heartbreaking decision to pull all but one of my books out of print. I had lost faith in their publisher, Canongate Books. The main problem was the lack of communication. This had been an issue for some years, and I’d even discovered, by chance, three editions of my work that nobody had told me about. I wonder how many more there are that I’ve never seen (seriously, publishers – if you’re going to print a distinct edition of a book, the least you could do is tell the person who wrote it. It’s balls-out dereliction of duty not to). Every time something like this happened, and I found out, they would say, Oooh, it won’t happen again, but there seems to be no introspection at management level and, with stultifying predictability, it would happen again. This was frustrating enough, and when my main contact took to ignoring my humdrum queries about contracts/royalty statements/rights, etc., alarm bells rang. (I can sense you stifling a yawn. You’re right, this is tiresome, but having set up these deals without an agent I had to keep on top of this sort of thing myself.)

I’d lost patience with them and had taken my most recent book elsewhere, but my backlist remained in place. I’d hoped we could stay on civil terms for the sake of the children, but it wasn’t to be. Not wanting to be stuck doing business with people who were cagey about finances, I requested they return the rights. They insisted on keeping hold of them (while still not answering the questions I’d been asking – they were, and continue to be, particularly evasive about the editions they’d published in the U.S. a few years back) so I dug in, looking for a way out by spending every spare moment combing through old correspondence, contracts and royalty statements, with all the joy that brought.

Throughout all this, something kept niggling: I’d not been paid a penny for my novel Timoleon Vieta Come Home since 2004, the year after it came out. I’d raised this with my main contact in 2010, after yet another demoralising £0 balance on a royalty statement. This kind of enquiry is an awkward one, because you wouldn’t be making it if you weren’t concerned that something was amiss; an author/publisher relationship is built on trust, and the clear subtext here is that your faith in their accounting has wavered. It’s obviously a very big deal to raise these reservations, yet a recent trawl through old correspondence reminded me that it took three letters of decreasing diplomacy to get an answer (seriously, publishers – if an author makes an enquiry, just answer it. It’s part of your job, and if you don’t we’ll start wondering whether you’re up to something. Perhaps you are). Eventually I was told that they’d looked into it and that everything was as it ought to be, that I’d accrued a debt on the title for deep accounting reasons that I couldn’t possibly understand. ‘Fair enough,’ I said, embarrassed for having asked.

It never seemed quite right, though – I couldn’t help feeling as if they had patted me on the head and told me to run along. I tried to push these suspicions away, because quite often people who think that money is being kept from them are having a funny five minutes. And besides, I’d had my answer: they’d looked into it, and everything was fine. Where do you go from there?

These misgivings – loopy as they seemed – kept coming back. Years of demoralising £0 balances and questioning-my-sanity later, I tentatively mentioned this odd-seeming number-crunching to a few allies in the biz (I do have some, believe it or not), and every one of them spluttered into their cornflakes. I don’t know why they were all eating cornflakes when I told them, but they were. The more people I mentioned this to, the more cornflakes were spluttered into – everybody I spoke to thought it sounded as fishy as Milky Pimms. Only Canongate Books’ cornflakes remained unsullied by splutter; only they didn’t seem to think it was odd that I’d not been paid for this book, which had been a modest success, since the year after it came out. I asked them again to look into this, but my increasingly desperate enquiries were casually batted aside, and then blanked. The old Closing Ranks/Wall of Silence trick. At every point I was treated as though I were Foolish and Deluded and an Author of No Brain at All. There were times when I thought they could be right, but the longer this went on the surer I became that my books were not in safe hands.

. . . .

I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford to send in auditors or pay for legal letters. I am, though, blessed with the tenacity of a rabbiting terrier. In the absence of civil answers to civil questions (or, latterly, incandescent ones) I decided to conduct my own audit. I have no idea how to conduct an audit, so I just gave it the full Chris-R. Faced with this, they finally – finally – scuttled back to their financial records. In the days before Christmas they returned with the admission that my hunch was bang on: in spite of their assurances to the contrary I had indeed been horrendously underpaid for ‘Timoleon Vieta Come Home’. If you want to know how it feels to find out that you aren’t mad after all, that your publisher really hadn’t been paying you properly for thirteen years, this just about sums it up. It was not a fun time.

In hindsight, this was a sort of grotesque deus ex machina: having spent such a long time haughtily dismissing my concerns, there was now no way they could continue to hold on to the books. They paid the acknowledged missing cash, and put a bit on top that they had unilaterally decided would make up for lost interest over the preceding years. I didn’t agree with the figure they’d settled on, and couldn’t convince them (still can’t) to acknowledge the arbitration clause in the contract, so it took a further six months of gruelling warfare, culminating in a close reading and furious waving of the as-fun-as-it-sounds Late Payment of Commercial Debts (Interest) Act 1998, to squeeze an acceptable settlement out of them.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: everybody makes mistakes – it could have been an oversight, a slip of the quill. Maybe it was, but it didn’t just happen once – it happened twice. Twice! I wonder whether Lady Bracknell would have had something to say about that. So why did the dough go missing in the first place? I wish I knew. The extent of their explanation was: The team here has calculated that due to errors on the royalty book that happened in 2004 and 2005 – where duplicate records of unearned balances were noted – you were underpaid £x. I expect that made your eyes hurt. (Seriously, publishers – next time you find yourself explaining how a huge amount of a hard-working author’s royalties came to end up in the silken pocket of your company’s Oxford bags you might want to try doing a bit better than this). A request for clarification didn’t yield any more than it having been human error. That’s something of a catch-all: a human had certainly erred. Beyond that, it was all left vague. They sent through some single-page summaries of accounts, as if that would clear things up. All I knew for sure was that a lot of money that should have come my way had, for deep accounting reasons that I couldn’t possibly understand, stopped shy of my bank account. I asked for a fuller picture of how this could have happened – twice – at which the human error line was modified to the comparably helpful Oooh, it’s all very complicated and we don’t really know. Unlike me, they weren’t interested in finding out. In lieu of proper answers they sent some further impenetrable spreadsheets, none which helped me get my head around it all. Somewhere along the line I discovered that these anomalies had happened in the vicinity of the U.S. operation that I’d had (and still have) so much trouble getting answers about.

Canongate Books’ final line is that it was a mistake. I’m not going to argue with that, but again it’s a catch-all. Maybe it really was a simple case of my royalties being innocently siphoned away on two separate occasions. I am very much open to the possibility that the version of events that they’ve settled on is correct, that the quality of their bookkeeping really was in freefall to the point where they were inadvertently, and repeatedly, keeping one of their authors’ wages to themselves. (And these are wages – though this may be in conflict with popular perception, people who write books are still sent electricity bills, and every sale counts towards our livelihoods. It’s rarely enough – most of us have to work shifts at Spatula City to make ends meet. I know I do.) I can’t help wondering, though, who was doing their internal stocktaking at this time. Sooty & Sweep I would guess, judging by the quality of their work. It’s all very well playing the human error card – and it may of course have been just that; everybody makes mistakes at work from time to time – but a company that is fit to trade should surely have a system in place to see that errors are caught and corrected. Mistakes of this magnitude, however accidental, should have been spotted, if not shortly after they were made, then when I pointed straight at them in 2010. We’re talking thousands and thousands of sales. Thousands!

Link to the rest at Dan Rhodes and thanks to A. for the tip.

The OP continues further and is well worth the read.

This is a cautionary tale for all authors.

Here are some basic business steps to take with royalties:

  1. Check your royalty statement – carefully – promptly – every time you receive one.
  2. If you see anything fishy or anything you don’t understand, send a letter pointing out the fish and ask for an explanation. (An email will probably work as well, but why not send both a letter and an email!)
  3. Save a copy of the royalty statement (of course) and save a copy of everything else you receive from or send to the publisher. Make certain it’s stored where your dog (digital or actual) can’t read it.
  4. If you don’t receive a useful response or at least an acknowledgment of receipt with a promise to send more information shortly within a week, send another communication reminding them that they owe you information and copy someone else at the publisher who ranks higher in the organization than the person to whom you sent.
  5. Continue until you receive a useful response. Add a paragraph that lists all your prior communications with the date and a note describing the nature of any response or that you received no response. Keep adding more people to the list to whom you are sending copies and note all the people you are copying at the bottom of the letter, email, fax, etc. Don’t remove anyone from the cc: list for subsequent letters/emails, just add new recipients.
    1. If your publisher is part of a larger publishing group or owned by another company, start copying people higher up the chain.
    2. If the publisher or an owner of the publisher has a legal department, send a copy to someone in the legal department.
    3. If this doesn’t generate a response, look up the contact information for the Attorney General in the state where the publisher has an office and add her/him to your copy list.
    4. If the publisher or its owner is a publicly-traded company you can probably find a list of its board of directors and add them to your CC: recipients.
    5. Send a copy of your letter to any authors’ organizations you can think of.

Your childhood etiquette instructor would probably say this isn’t polite, but you tried polite with your early communications and failed to receive a polite response. You might conclude that polite isn’t going to work in this case.

There is an old saying (at least in the US) that a squeaky wheel gets the most grease.

If you’re not being treated in a professional manner by a publisher, you’re not receiving grease.

If your bank misplaced some of your money and didn’t respond to your questions right away, you wouldn’t (or shouldn’t) hesitate to make a fuss. If your publisher is keeping money that belongs to you, it’s the same situation.

Accounting mistakes can and do happen. When such mistakes occur, ethical business organizations promptly own up to those mistakes, make the numbers right for their customers and tell them what happened.

Properly-run businesses don’t repeatedly make accounting mistakes, particularly accounting mistakes that reduce their payments to others. PG says don’t patronize or partner with businesses that aren’t managed properly.

Don’t fall into the insecurity trap of thinking something like, “If I cause too much trouble, my publisher won’t publish any more of my books.”

If you’re an amateur who writes for fun, that might be a reasonable train of thought.

If you’re a professional and want to be paid for your work, it’s irrational.

Allow PG to rephrase the insecurity trap: “If I cause too much trouble, my publisher won’t publish any more books that I won’t get paid for.”

Spotify Ad Draws Criticism over How It (Under)Pays Musicians

From TNW:

Spotify tweeted an ad for its new partnership with Hulu, along with a comment about “budgets.” Several people, including one particularly savage songwriter, pointed out the company shouldn’t be the one to talk about money when it offers such a paltry sum to the artists whose music it hosts.

The ad itself isn’t anything terribly insensitive. Spotify announced its new bundle a few weeks ago — which gives Premium users a free Hulu subscription — and the ad was promoting this. It shows two different shows and songs for “Payday” and “Rent’s Due,” and then says “Feel more of what you’re feeling.” The tweet itself says “What’s a budget, anyway?” which is a bit of an odd caption considering you’d think this deal would be perfect for those with a budget.

. . . .

But as several users responded, Spotify should really think twice before mentioning budgets, considering the price artists’ pay for the company’s low prices.

. . . .

As he pointed out, Spotify streams earn artists exceptionally little money. Spotify, in Lowery’s words, spends a great deal of its money on things such as its pricey offices, and it’s currently appealing the rates set by the Copyright Royalty Board in an effort to pay even less.

. . . .

Lowery and singer-songwriter Melissa Ferrick both sued Spotify in 2015 for distributing songs without paying the proper licensing fees. Spotify’s go-to defense at the time was that it was putting aside money to pay rightsholders — it just had insufficient information on who the rightsholders were in this case. The lawsuit was settled in 2017, with Spotify setting up a $43.4 million fund to pay for those whose rights had been infringed.

Link to the rest at TNW

I Was Paid £12,500 to Write My Book. Here’s Why I’m Revealing That

From The Guardian:

I was paid a £12,500 advance to write my book, Open Up. Sharing this publicly, even as the author of a book about our emotional relationship with money, was initially petrifying, but I ended up revealing it in the book – it’s there on page 17. When I got the book deal, I’d excitedly tell people and they’d inevitably ask: “Did you get an advance?” And like most chats about money, the conversation would abruptly stop there.

I worried about telling people the amount for so many reasons. I thought it would compromise my publisher or my agent. I worried it would compromise the book, and that people would think: “Oh, that’s not a large amount, it can’t be very good.” The only book deals we hear about are the six-figure ones, and they can be misleading; a headline-grabbing “£100,000 four-book deal” is really only £25,000 a book, and if a book takes a year to write, that pays the author a below-average salary.

We’re fascinated by what other people earn not only because we’re nosey, but because the more we know about what other people earn, the more we understand our own circumstances. You can’t tell if you’re being under- or overpaid without knowing what other people in your industry earn. Since my book was published, two authors have been in touch to say: “Thanks for sharing your advance. I thought my publishers were low-balling me.”

. . . .

I am fed up with navigating a culture that obsesses over who has what but discourages any conversation about our own finances, which was why I printed my advance. Others are starting to do the same, and not only through anonymous money diaries. Last week, blogger Alex Stedman behind the Frugality revealed that she pays herself an annual salary of £30,000. (“I am 35 years old. I am the breadwinner. And I am the richest I have ever been,” she wrote.) Earlier this month, podcaster Aminatou Sou divulged her 2018 salary in an interview with the Cut: more than $300,000 (£228,000), from a book deal along with “public speaking, the podcast and sponsored ‘influencer’ stuff”.

Link to the rest at The Guardian

2018 Streaming Price Bible

From The Trichordist:

This data set is isolated to the calendar year 2018 and represents a mid-sized indie label with an approximately 250+ album catalog now generating almost 1b streams annually. 2018 is the year we saw streaming truly mature as the dominant source of recorded music revenues.

In parsing the data provided we find that digital revenues are 86% of all recorded music revenues globally (RIAA Reports Digital Revenues as 90% of Total). Streaming is 80% (or more) of Digital Music Revenues. Downloads are about 20% of digital music revenues for the year, however if we isolate Q4, it would appear download revenues could be less than 15% of digital revenues. The transition from downloads to streaming is well beyond the tipping point and we wonder how long the major services (Apple, Amazon, Google) will continue to support the format.

As we dig down into the physical revenues much of the gross is eroded by manufacturing, shipping and inventory costs of both CDs and Vinyl. In short, the recorded music business is now the streaming music business. Whatever charm there is to vinyl, it is at best still a truly niche business in terms of meaningful net revenues.

. . . .

The Top 10 streamers account for over 97% of all music streaming revenues. The Top 5 account for over 88% of all streaming dollars.

. . . .

The biggest takeaway by far is that YouTube’s Content ID, (in our first truly comprehensive data set) shows a whopping 48% of all streams generate only 7% of revenue. Read that again. This is your value gap. Nearly 50% of all recorded music streams only generate 7% of revenue.

. . . .

The Spotify per stream rate drops again from .00397 to .00331 a decrease of 16%. Apple Music gains almost 3% for an total global marketshare of about just under 25% of all revenue.

Apple’s per stream rate drops from .00783 to .00495 a decrease of 36%. We need to state again, that 2018 saw a massive shift of revenues from downloads to streaming and no doubt this expansion of scale, combined with more aggressive bundling (free trials) as well as launching into more territories was bound to bring down the overall net per stream.

. . . .

Apple Music still lead in the sweet spot with about 10% of overall streams generating 25% of all revenue (despite the per stream rate drop). Spotify by comparison has nearly triple the marketshare in streams than Apple Music but generates less than double the revenues on that volume.

Link to the rest at The Trichordist

The OP includes a chart with more numbers.

PG is always interested in the similarities and differences between the music business and the book business. He suggests printed books are the CDs and Vinyl of the publishing world and will end up with as little relevance to overall revenues.

Once again, PG is reminded of Monty Python:

 

 

Why American Artists Should Benefit from the Resale of Their Works

From The Art Newspaper:

In the US, authors, musicians, actors, and others in the creative industries have royalties and residuals that reward their enduring stake in the redistribution of their intellectual property, when properly enforced. Yet while visual artists are entitled to royalties on commercial reproduction, there is currently little to no legal recourse for them to benefit from the resale of their work.

For a legacy interest to be codified across the US, legislation implementing a so-called droit de suite would have to pass Congress. And with a new Congress freshly seated on Thursday (3 January), an updated version of the S3488/HR6868 bill, otherwise known as the American Royalties Too Act (ART Act,) is expected to be reintroduced by incoming chair of the House Judiciary Committee, Representative Jerry Nadler (D-NY).

As the US art market continues to swell, the need for support for this bill becomes ever more necessary, especially when it comes to protecting artists with less established markets who can be more easily exploited. Case in point: demand continues to rise for works by many African American artists who have been undervalued and overlooked for decades; many are now finding success late in life yet reap no retrospective reward.

An active artist whose talent is recognized during her or his lifetime can often at least benefit from increases in fair market value, even if marginally. This is evident in the case of artists such as Kerry James Marshall, whose stratospheric rise has led to ceiling-shattering prices for African American artists. Yet when his painting Past Times sold for a record $21.1m at Sotheby’s New York in May 2018, Marshall realised nothing from its sale. Nevertheless, Marshall enjoys the benefit of high primary market sales.

The introduction of droit de suite legislation in the US would help rectify this inconvenience for well-known contemporary artists like Marshall but it would be an even bigger boon for historically disadvantaged artists who have been left out of the American canon of art for reasons of race, gender or other socio-economic limitations. This is especially true of the many artists who lack representation or a presence in the art market until the end of their careers or posthumously.

Consider the Gee’s Bend quilters of Alabama: with no access to the gallery system, many of their artworks were purchased by Atlanta collector William S. Arnett at a time when no viable market existed for their work. In 2010, Arnett donated over 1,300 artworks, including quilts and objects created by other artists, to create the Souls Grown Deep Foundation, dedicated to promoting these artists’ previously unrecognised talents.

Like many artists, the value of the quilt makers’ works has increased over time. But many of the artists have either passed away or are no longer producing works, and thus an improved market came too late to benefit them in their prime. One could cite many examples of this discrepancy throughout history, but the case of the Gee’s Bend quilters feels especially urgent given the artists’ dire economic circumstances in the rural South.

. . . .

By permanently transferring their remarkable artworks to dozens of leading art museums through a gift-purchase model—a process started in 2016 and actively continuing—the foundation can both alter the narrative of American art history to include them and dedicate funds raised to improving the living conditions of artists and their heirs in the African American South.

Artist resale rights are already observed in over 70 other nations in accordance with the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works. In the European Union, such royalties are payable for up to 70 years after the artist’s death. France introduced the royalty in 1920; a recent French Supreme Court decision has shifted the burden for paying the royalty to the buyer.

In the US, however, only 31 states currently recognise the right for visual artists to receive royalties from their first sale. The only legislation on the books offering droit de suit protection law is California’s Resale Royalties Act (CRRA) from 1977. Perennially ineffectual, the CRRA is not only limited in scope—royalties must be paid to any descendant within 20 years of the artist’s death—it was effectively struck down in July 2018 by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, which noted that federal law would need to change for such a royalty scheme to be feasible.

Link to the rest at The Art Newspaper

 

Alamy Cutting Commission from 50% to 40% for Its Stock Photographers

PG thought this item, relating to a rough equivalent of an ebook publisher in the photo world, was troubling and hoped indie authors would not find themselves in similar circumstances in the future.

From PetaPixel:

Alamy announced in an email to contributors today that the commission rate for stock photo sales is being slashed from 50% to 40% starting in February 2019.

Here’s what the email said:

In February 2019 the Alamy contract will be changing to reflect a new commission structure. The commission contributors receive for direct sales will change from 50% to 40%.

This email is to give you advanced warning of this upcoming contract change. You will receive another email in January 2019 signalling the beginning of the standard 45 day notice period before the new contract comes into effect in February 2019.

Alamy is a popular stock photography agency that, since launching back in 1999, has remained a private company through all the mergers and acquisitions that have occurred in the stock photography industry.

While it was originally known for offering a majority of each sale to contributing photographers (even as high as an unheard-of 90% in the beginning), Alamy dropped the 60% commission to 50% back in 2010-2012 citing a need to invest in R&D, new products and services, and new marketing initiatives.

Now the 50% commission is being cut further to a minority share of 40%.

. . . .

“It’s kind of a significant move away from where we have been historically, which is to be on equal footing with our photographers, and in fact our origin was to always pay the lion’s share of royalties,” West says.

West calls Shutterstock, Getty Images, Adobe Stock (formerly Fotolia) “tier 1” agencies with revenues north of $150 million. He places Alamy in the “tier 2” level with revenues of $30-$60 million, saying Alamy is essentially the only “tier 2” agency that’s not an outright microstock agency.

West also says Alamy started with the unusual approach of paying contributors a much higher royalty than anyone else in the industry, which brought Alamy early success.

“The thing that we got wrong — and I was pretty naive about with hindsight — was the royalty split,” West says. “I thought we could charge a fraction of that of our competitors and so we started it paying contributors 90% royalties with some transaction fees on top of that.”

. . . .

“If we hadn’t reduced the royalty as we did in 2010, we would not have been able to invest in the things that led to ultimately the results we’ve achieved in the last 3 years,” West says.

. . . .

After the change, Alamy will still be offering a higher commission than its competitors, West says, adding that he believes this may be the last commission rate drop Alamy will need to do.

Link to the rest at PetaPixel

PG suggests you may wish to view the video in the OP and read some of the comments.

PG’s observation is that the video is not reassuring for photographers and doesn’t reflect a proper level of preparation on the part of the presenter.

PG further suggests that the OP and video may serve as a caution for indie authors to be mindful about keeping their options for licensing and selling their books open to the greatest extent possible. All of the terms and conditions promulgated by Amazon and other online ebook publishers and/or distributors via click-to-accept agreements which PG has reviewed include the right for the publisher or distributor to change the terms of the business relationship, including the financial compensation for the author at any time, often without advance notice.

While PG is not an expert on royalty agreements between photographers and stock photo agencies like Alamy, his review of Alamy’s Terms and Conditions disclosed more than a few provisions which are, in his photographically humble opinion, not fair to creators. PG reviewed the Terms and Conditions appearing here.

If, as the video and OP imply, Alamy is (or has been) considered an enlightened photo agency, it appears to PG that photographers may be treated worse than authors are treated by traditional publishers in more than one respect. However, as usual, PG could be wrong.

Why Do Authors Feel Hard Done By?

From Publishing Perspectives:

I was struck by a comment on my last column about measuring commercial success in publishing. It came from Ryan Jones who is, I imagine, an author. He wrote: “Publishers pull in billions of dollars yearly and yet few writers can even make a living. What’s wrong with that picture?”

I thought it might be worth examining this widely held sentiment.

Of course he has a point, and I’m sure the various organizations supporting and representing authors would agree. There was a recent spat between the UK’s Society of Authors, the Authors Licensing & Collecting Society, and the Publishers Association, about this very subject.

. . . .

Per Saugman was a distinguished medical publisher, the force behind Blackwell Scientific Publications, the sale of which to Wiley is the reason that the UK still has a high-quality academic and trade bookselling chain, Blackwell Retail, in spite of the many challenges. Saugman explained to an author why he would not increase his royalty rate: “I’m not paying you the royalty, the purchasers of the book are. The higher the royalty rate, the more we shall have to charge and the less enthusiastic they will be to reward you.”

The royalty system is a fair one. It links an author’s income not to any abstract notion of worth but to how much the reading market will pay for the author’s efforts. Successful authors are hugely well rewarded and I’m sure would prefer the current system to any other. JK Rowling, Danielle Steele, Stephen King, and many others have built fortunes from their books and frequently are able to deploy those fortunes generously and properly.

And then one should consider why writers write. It’s not always (or even usually) for money. There are many motivations.

For instance, a lawyer might want to write the ultimate book on her subject of expertise. It’s a way of establishing her credibility and hence the value of her professional practice. A few hundred or thousand dollars either way will be of little consequence but what she wants is a publisher whose brand carries weight, whose editorial support systems and marketing reach are first rate.

. . . .

The main complaints seem to come usually from so-called midlist authors whose income is almost certainly in decline. But that’s not from publishers taking more. It’s simply the case that general fiction (the bulk of this sector) is more widely split than ever between the bestsellers and the not-so-good sellers. Public library sales, which were the bedrock of midlist hardback sustainability, are in decline. Paperback sales have been eroded by lower-price ebooks. Fewer retailers are willing to dedicate space to any but the top 100 or so novelists. Self-publishing has created a tsunami of digital fiction, thus deflecting sales from the traditional market.

None of that is of any comfort to the professional writer seeing his or her income decline. Nor does it help that publishers seem willing to pay large advances to unknown new authors in the hope of finding the next big thing after a massive twelve-way auction. The trouble is that every now again the next big thing is the next big thing and it is the big things that keep general publishers in business.

. . . .

Yes, the publishing industry is big. A survey conducted by the World Intellectual Property Organization and the International Publishers Association estimated total global sales of US$41.9 billion in 2016.

. . . .

The industry also employs many millions of people worldwide. And pays taxes. And creates markets.

But as I said in my previous column, sales don’t represent profits.

Publishing is highly competitive. Margins in certain sectors at certain times can be high. An unexpected bestseller can transform a business. Finding a new niche or a new market can generate profit and cash, but in the normal course of events, a publisher is happy to make a 10-percent return on sales (trade authors typically receive 10 to 20 percent of the publisher’s sales) and to generate enough cash to stay in business.

Publishing is a good business and an important one for all sorts of reasons, but publishers are not the greedy sharks they’re sometimes portrayed to be, nor are their companies out to prosper at the expense of authors. If authors’ incomes are in decline, the solution is to find a larger cake, not to argue about the size of the slices.

And Stanley Unwin’s famous quotation still holds true: “The first duty of any publisher to their authors is to remain solvent.”

Link to the rest at Publishing Perspectives

.

Are Electronic Course Packs Fair Use?

From The Authors Guild:

For the past ten years, in the Cambridge University Press v. Albert case, publishers have been battling with Georgia State University over whether the University’s providing its students with digital course packets that include excerpts (often full chapters) of books constituted “fair use.” Under court rulings in prior cases, the law was clear that providing photocopied course packs without a license was not fair use. In this case, however, the district court has already twice sided with Georgia State University, finding fair use on all but a few excerpts, and now the appeals court has again sent the case back down to it. On October 19, 2018, the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals vacated the district court’s second decision that the vast majority of Georgia State University’s digital excerpts were fair use, with instructions for how to get it right this time.

. . . .

This case has been closely watched by authors, publishers, and universities as a measure for when excerpts for classroom use need to be licensed or not. In the intervening decade, many universities appear to have stopped paying for these types of electronic classroom uses. Authors who used to regularly receive licensing income from classroom use report that that revenue source has dried up in recent years. A favorable outcome in this case would put universities on notice that they should start paying for those uses again.

. . . .

One of the major errors that the Eleventh Circuit failed to correct is the district court’s analysis under the fourth factor. The law describes the fourth factor as: “the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.” As such, a fair use is one that should not replace a current or potential market for the work. The Supreme Court instructs courts conducting this analysis to look at the impact on current and potential markets if the use were to become widespread and unrestricted.

Instead, the lower court looked at whether the publishers already had electronic licenses available to universities in 2009 for excerpts for the specific works—an extremely narrow view of an existing market.

. . . .

Moreover, the court’s rule that the taking must be so great that the copyright owner no longer has the incentive to write or publish was created out of thin air and would make pretty much any particular use fair use. Few individual uses will be so great that they will be the deciding factor in whether to publisher or not (or write for that matter); it is the cumulative effect of these free uses that makes it increasingly hard to publish material that is not highly commercial.

Of greatest concern to authors and other creators is the fact that the Eleventh Circuit failed to remind the lower court to consider the impact on potentialmarkets from widespread use, and to remember that the relevant market to be considered is broader than a particular format. Whether the publishers had already made the particular works available for e-licensing for e-course packs should be irrelevant – yet the district court chose to focus on that point. Under the court’s analysis here, uses of copyrighted material that eliminate potential markets entirely—and thereby eliminate potential income for the authors as well as the publishers—may qualify as fair uses.

Link to the rest at The Authors Guild

Fat horses & starving sparrows

From Overland:

In the last major survey, conducted by Macquarie University researchers in 2015, Australian authors were found to earn an annual average of just $12,900 from their writing work; the median, at $2,800, is even more concerning. In the UK, which has better longitudinal data, earnings of professional writers have dropped 42 per cent in real terms between 2005 and 2017, according to the Authors’ Licensing and Collecting Society. In that same time, the proportion able to make a living solely from writing work fell from 40 per cent to 13.7 per cent. The jobs at newspapers and magazines that used to so often be relied on to bolster book earnings have largely evaporated. Many of us know people who have lost their writing jobs, or who are just barely clinging on.

. . . .

Let’s start with ‘free is not fair’, the catchy slogan of a campaign led by the Copyright Agency, which has been used to argue against the proposed adoption of a ‘fair use’ exception to copyright. For those who haven’t been following, there has been fierce debate over whether Australia ought to adopt a flexible exception to copyright infringement that would permit, without payment, any kind of use, so long as it’s ‘fair’. This is already the law in countries such as the US, with ‘fairness’ determined by taking into account all relevant factors, including the effect of the use on the potential market for or value of the copyright material.

Many people claiming that ‘free is not fair’ know a lot about copyright. They know that our law has permitted, for over a century, fair use for purposes such as research, criticism/review and news reporting. And, unless you think you should pay for every use of every copyrighted thing – for example, every time you access a webpage, use a search engine, forward an email or retweet a photo – you know free can be fair. The slogan even contradicts itself, since under a fair-use exception, if the use of a work for free is not fair, it wouldn’t be permitted. That is the entire point. Thus ‘free is not fair’ is textbook bullshit.

. . . .

However well intentioned these claims might be, they sell authors short. The reasons why can be found in the two fundamental rationales for granting copyright in the first place. The first is to incentivise the creation of works, thus helping achieve the social benefits that flow from widespread access to information and culture. On top of that, copyright aims to reward authors: to secure them an additional share of the benefits arising from their creations, in recognition of their contributions of personality and labour.

To give effect to these aims, authors and publishers should be able to share between them the rights necessary to incentivise their investments in creating and distributing cultural works. But the rewards share – everything beyond that – is justifiable only for authors: the people who actually created the work.

Right now, Australian copyright law is designed to make it as easy as possible for investors to extract the entirety of authors’ copyright interest – not just the incentives component, but the additional rewards part as well. We call this a laissez-faire approach, French for ‘let people do as they choose’, but here better described as the freedom to sign away your rights, before anyone knows what the work is worth, often in exchange for not much at all.

I know a woman, ‘Kate’, who recently sold her book to a Big Five publisher for less than $1,300. The publisher extracted every right to every payment, worldwide, forever, leaving the author with zero entitlement to future royalties (even if the book becomes a surprise bestseller), or any licensing fees that might be paid for use of the book in schools or universities. Kate even lost her statutory right to compensation for use in libraries, since one’s claim to these payments depends on having an ongoing right to royalties.

That such a deal would be offered and agreed to won’t surprise anyone who has worked in or studied creative labour markets. As cultural economist Ruth Towse explains, commercial players in creative industries take advantage of the structure of artists’ labour markets and exploit their willingness to create. A surplus of creatives, coupled with a culture of short-term, project-specific contracts, puts artists in relatively poor bargaining positions when dealing with investors. All this explains how such a big share of copyright’s rewards can end up being transferred to others.

We see from all this that authors have a moral entitlement to the fruits of their labour, but a hard time holding on to them. Outside Australia, many countries have taken steps to even the playing field. In France, publishers have an ongoing obligation to market their books: if they fail to do so, authors can readily regain their rights. They can also terminate an agreement if, at least four years after publication, no royalties have been paid for two years in a row (publishers are required to provide accurate royalty statements too). Canada automatically reverts rights to heirs twenty-five years after an author’s death (as did the UK until 1956 and Australia until 1968). Authors can terminate their contracts in the US after thirty-five years. The Netherlands and Germany both have ‘bestseller’ clauses, entitling authors to a bigger share of the windfall gains that come from unexpected commercial success.

. . . .

Australia’s current approach to protecting authors is a manifestation of trickledown economics, that theory of horses and sparrows: feed the horses enough oats and some will fall through to feed the birds. There are plenty of oats. By 2016, according to their own publicly released data, publishing behemoths Penguin Random House and Simon & Schuster had seen their profit margins grow to 16 per cent. Yet a recent study, The Contribution of the Publishing Industry to the UK Economy, estimated that just 3 per cent of earnings went to the authors from whose minds sprang those rivers of gold. In other words, we have fat horses and starving sparrows.

. . . .

We should also be demanding greater transparency around the distribution of revenue from the statutory licences that pay for uses in schools and universities. Those are the revenues that, in Australia, are collected by the Copyright Agency. Australia’s schools pay far more to use copyrighted works than their overseas counterparts – almost $17 per student, compared to around $3 in the UK and NZ. This would be laudable if that money went to supporting authors, but as far as we can tell from the Copyright Agency’s reporting, publishers again take the lion’s share.

Link to the rest at Overland

Universal Music Settling Big Class Action Lawsuit Over Digital Royalties

From Billboard:

An important chapter in the legal history of the music business may be coming to conclusion soon as Universal Music Group is close to submitting a settlement resolving claims that it cheated recording artists of royalties from digital downloads.

The putative class action from artists including Chuck D. of Public Enemy, Rick James (by way of trust), Dave Mason of Traffic, Whitesnake, Andres Titus of Black Sheep, Ron Tyson of The Temptations, among others, alleges that record labels should be treating digital download income off of venues like Apple’s iTunes as “licenses” rather than “sales.” By accounting the other way, the artists get about 15 percent of collected income rather than 50 percent they allege is due.

. . . .

The monetary value of UMG’s coming settlement haven’t yet been disclosed, but The Hollywood Reporter has learned that it will likely cover EMI, which was acquired by UMG in 2012 and has been dealing with its own litigation on the digital download front. Following settlements by Warner Music and Sony, UMG’s deal if approved would mean that all of the record majors have resolved claims following the 2010 appellate ruling in F.B.T. Productions v. Aftermath — dealing with Eminem songs — which suggested that “licenses” rather than “sales” were the more appropriate accounting treatment in an era where record labels no longer spend huge amounts on packaging physical CDs.

According to sales data released this week by the RIAA, digital downloads is the top revenue producer in the music industry. Download sales are at $2.64 billion, which beats physical music sales of $2.27 billion.

. . . .

As streaming gets closer to dominating downloads, the litigation may shift likewise as well.

The digital downloads cases may be on the precipices of conclusion, but scrutiny may follow as to whether record labels are cheating artists on money collected from outlets like Spotify. For instance, on Tuesday, a judge refused to reject claimsthat Sony breached agreements and good faith dealing with 19 Recordings — the label of former American Idol contestants Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood and Jordin Sparks — by allegedly mischaracterizing income from streaming services as as “sales” or “distributions” rather than as “broadcasts” or “transmissions.”

Link to the rest at Billboard

Starting several years ago, PG blogged about this issue before in the context of book publishing agreements. For a great many years, standard publishing contracts included royalty provisions that paid a much lower royalty for books that were sold than for books that were licensed.

PG hasn’t surveyed Terms & Conditions for online ebook sellers for a long time, but the last time he did, the major online retailers all said something to the effect that the publishers were licensing ebooks to readers, not selling them.

Here’s the relevant portion of Amazon’s current Kindle Store Terms of Use, located in Paragraph 1, “Kindle Content”:

Kindle Content is licensed, not sold, to you by the Content Provider.

If you pull up a publishing contract that’s more than ten years old and search for the royalty rates payable when the publisher licenses the book, you may well find that, like the music business, Big Publishing paid much higher royalties for licenses than it did for sales.

To cash in on Kindle Unlimited, a cabal of authors gamed Amazon’s algorithm

From The Verge:

On June 4th, a group of lawyers shuffled into a federal court in Manhattan to argue over two trademark registrations. The day’s hearing was the culmination of months of internet drama — furious blog posts, Twitter hashtags, YouTube videos, claims of doxxing, and death threats.

The lawyers carried with them full-color exhibits of the trademarks in context. First up, two shirtless men with stethoscopes, embracing a woman, with the words Her Cocky Doctorsboldly printed below. Next: two shirtless men flanking a woman in a too-big firefighter’s jacket, with the words Her Cocky Firefighters emblazoned in the same font.

“What is in the content of Her Cocky Firefighters?” asked the judge, surveying the exhibits.

“It appears to be a male-female-male romance,” said a lawyer for one of the defendants. “Beyond that, I imagine it involves one or two of the male characters is a firefighter.”

The judge looked over Her Cocky Doctors. “Two male figures. One seems to be wearing a stethoscope, indicating he is a doctor, but he is stripped to the waist.”

“Doesn’t look like my doctor, your Honor,” said the lawyer drily.

They were gathered there that day because one self-published romance author was suing another for using the word “cocky” in her titles. And as absurd as this courtroom scene was — with a federal judge soberly examining the shirtless doctors on the cover of an “MFM Menage Romance” — it didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

The fight over #Cockygate, as it was branded online, emerged from the strange universe of Amazon Kindle Unlimited, where authors collaborate and compete to game Amazon’s algorithm. Trademark trolling is just the beginning: There are private chat groups, ebook exploits, conspiracies to seed hyperspecific trends like “Navy SEALs” and “mountain men,” and even a controversial sweepstakes in which a popular self-published author offered his readers a chance to win diamonds from Tiffany’s if they reviewed his new book.

Much of what’s alleged is perfectly legal, and even technically within Amazon’s terms of service. But for authors and fans, the genre is also a community, and the idea that unethical marketing and algorithmic tricks are running rampant has embroiled their world in controversy. Some authors even believe that the financial incentives set up by Kindle Unlimited are reshaping the romance genre — possibly even making it more misogynistic.

A genre that mostly features shiny, shirtless men on its covers and sells ebooks for 99 cents a pop might seem unserious. But at stake are revenues sometimes amounting to a million dollars a year, with some authors easily netting six figures a month. The top authors can drop $50,000 on a single ad campaign that will keep them in the charts — and see a worthwhile return on that investment.

In other words, self-published romance is no joke.

. . . .

Qhen author Dakota Willink attended the Romance Writers of America conference last year, she didn’t know anything about the “cocky” trademark. She hadn’t heard of Faleena Hopkins, the self-published author who registered the mark, or of Tara Crescent, the other author whom Hopkins is now suing.

The RWA conference is the beating heart of the romance industry, a business-first trade conference with editorial pitch meetings and marketing workshops. It’s also the center of the warm, accepting, and woman-focused culture that the romance community is so proud of. In an episode of This American Life in 2003, reporter Robin Epstein expresses surprise at the environment she encounters at RWA. “What the hell is going on here?” she asks herself rhetorically. “The famous writers are nice, the editors are nice, and this is the publishing business.”

This was Willink’s first time at RWA, and she was spending much of her time with her new personal assistant, Lauren Valderrama.

Valderrama is also the personal assistant for several other successful romance authors — names that frequently dominate the romance charts on Amazon. In the world of self-published romance, a personal assistant does anything from formatting books to handling social media and publicity to sending out advance review copies. It’s enough work that it was a little unusual for Valderrama to be handling so many top-ranking, prolific clients. But that track record was appealing when Valderrama had originally reached out to Willink, professing to be a fan and suggesting that they work together.

According to Willink, over the course of RWA, Valderrama told her about certain marketing and sales strategies, which she claimed to handle for other authors. Valderrama allegedly said that she organized newsletter swaps, in which authors would promote each other’s books to their respective mailing lists. She also claimed to manage review teams — groups of assigned readers who were expected to leave reviews for books online. According to Willink, Valderrama’s authors often bought each other’s books to improve their ranking on the charts — something that she arranged, coordinating payments through her own PayPal account. Valderrama also told her that she used multiple email addresses to buy authors’ books on iBooks when they were trying to hit the USA Today list.

The Bookclicker chat group exists on Ryver, a clone of Slack (internal chat software for businesses). It was founded by a USA Today best-selling author named Chance Carter, known to some as a “notorious Kindle Unlimited abuser.” Carter’s name came up in half a dozen interviews as a pioneer of questionable and highly lucrative marketing practices. In the middle of reporting this story, almost of all of Carter’s very popular books were removed from Amazon, for reasons that remain unclear. A spokesperson for Amazon said that as a matter of policy, the company did not comment on individual cases.

. . . .

It’s not clear if these early book-stuffers moved onto the self-publishing romance scene, or if some of the self-publishing romance authors began to pick up on these tricks. Either way, book stuffing plagues the romance genre on Kindle Unlimited, with titles that come in at 2000 or even 3000 pages (the maximum page length for a Kindle Unlimited book). That’s approximately the length of Atlas Shrugged or War and Peace.

Book stuffing is particularly controversial because Amazon pays authors from a single communal pot. In other words, Kindle Unlimited is a zero-sum game. The more one author gets from Kindle Unlimited, the less the other authors get.

The romance authors Willink was discovering didn’t go in for clumsy stuffings of automatic translations or HTML cruft; rather, they stuffed their books with ghostwritten content or repackaged, previously published material. In the latter case, the author will bait readers with promises of fresh content, like a new novella, at the end of the book.

. . . .

Of course, you might be wondering if any readers actually read through all 3000 pages. But authors deploy a host of tricks in service of gathering page reads — from big fonts and wide spacing to a “link back.” Some authors would place a link at the very front of the book, to sign up to a mailing list. The link would take them to the back of the book, thus counting all pages read. It’s not clear whether any of this actually works. A spokesperson for Amazon told The Verge that Amazon uses a standardized page count that won’t take big fonts or wide spacing into account. A June blog post by the Kindle Direct Publishing Team assured authors that the KENPC system (Kindle Edition Normalized Page Count) recorded pages read with “high precision” and that the company was constantly working to improve its “fidelity.”

. . . .

The stereotype of a Kindle Unlimited author is someone who is “pumping out short, pulpy reads,” in the words of best-selling romance writer Zoe York. But even if you write well, write prolifically, and cater to the market, it still doesn’t mean you’ll find success. “That skill set of finding a cold audience, getting them to hook into your product, and then consume through your product backlist, that’s harder than it sounds,” says York. The people who do succeed have that skill set. “They’re not good writers, but they’re great marketers.”

Link to the rest at The Verge and thanks to Kathlena for the tip.

Rapper pays $18.5m for work at auction but the artist gets nothing—is the system in need of reform?

From The Art Newspaper:

There was much fanfare last month when the US artist Kerry James Marshall “obliterated the glass ceiling of prejudicial art pricing”, as the dealer and art commentator Kenny Schachter put it, with the record sale of his painting Past Times (1997) in a contemporary art sale at Sotheby’s New York.

The work, depicting a pastoral scene that features black suburbanites instead of white aristocrats, was bought by the rapper Sean “P. Diddy” Combs for $18.5m ($21.1m with fees), making Marshall the highest-paid living African-American artist at auction. But Marshall didn’t receive a cent from the sale.

Under European legislation, Marshall could have earned $14,700 (royalties are capped at this comparatively paltry sum), but in the US, artists are not entitled to a cut on works sold on the secondary market. The state of California recently suspended the collection of royalty payments due to ongoing litigation.

. . . .

Although records continue to tumble in the contemporary art market, reports suggest that artists are getting poorer; the majority of artists in the UK earn less than £5,000 a year after tax, and less than $10,000 in the US, according to the online marketplace Artfinder. In such a polarised climate, should auction houses and dealers not pay their dues to the artists from whom they profit?

The strict enforcement of global resale rights, or an entertainment industry-style model of residuals, would be one way to ensure that artists are afforded a basic income. Another option is to introduce a system whereby artists retain a stake in their own work.

If Robert Rauschenberg had kept a 10% share in Rebus (1955), he would have made $575,000 from its sale at Sotheby’s New York in 1988, according to a paper published in February by the scholars Amy Whitaker and Roman Kräussl, titled Democratising Art Markets: Fractional Ownership and the Securitisation of Art. It is a hypothetical situation befitting of the artist who famously accused the art collector Robert Scull of ripping him off after a 1973 auction that earned Scull $2.2m off the back of cheaply acquired works. “I’ve been working my ass off for you to make that profit,” Rauschenberg berated the taxi tycoon.

Link to the rest at The Art Newspaper

PG can think of some interesting ways for an artist to try to attach a security interest to personal property such as a piece of art to support a continuing contractual obligation attaching to the art for each owner to pay the artist a royalty consisting of a portion of the owner’s profits upon the sale of the art.

He suspects the typical young starving artist would not have the bargaining power with an art auction house or wealthy purchaser to obtain such a royalties arrangement, however. Presumably if an artist’s works are generating large purchase prices on the secondary market, that artist’s new works would sell for a lot of money as well so it’s arguable that the benefits of an ongoing royalties arrangement would mostly go to financially successful artists.

However, PG suspects what amounts to an ongoing artist’s royalty payable upon each sale of an artist’s work would have the effect of reducing the amount a buyer purchasing art as an investment would be willing to pay for a work, thus reducing the amount of money the artist receives upon the initial sale of the art. That might not be what a young artist is really looking for.

Additionally, if an art-loving purchaser wanted to acquire the artist’s work because the purchaser really wanted to have the work in their home or business for their own viewing pleasure (instead of treating it as a speculative investment) and had no intention of ever reselling it, the artist would be unlikely to receive any future income from the piece. Similarly, if the purchaser donated the artwork to a non-profit public museum, presumably, the artist would not be entitled to an additional payment for such charitable transfer.

Selling Out: Going Wide or Going Exclusive to Amazon

From The Book Designer:

When most new publishers think of selling ebooks, the first place they think of is Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) program.

This makes sense — after all, Amazon represents somewhere between sixty and eighty percent of the world English market for ebooks. Who wouldn’t want to have their book sold in the biggest storefront of all?

Amazon has created a program — KDP Select — that rewards publishers for offering their titles exclusively through the Kindle Store. A lot of publishers — and not just new ones — decide to put all of their eggs in the Amazon basket. They make some compelling arguments for why they do so.

I don’t — do so, that is. With almost all of the books that I publish, I sell wide — that is, at as many retail and distribution outlets as possible, in addition to the ‘Zon.

. . . .

Before we discuss the relative merits of selling wide or sticking exclusively to Amazon, we need to look at what the KDP Select exclusive program actually entails.

First of all, it’s a fully voluntary, opt-in program — just because you’re selling on Amazon doesn’t mean that they get exclusive rights to sell your ebook. You have to enroll each title — just because you’ve got one ebook exclusively at the Kindle Store doesn’t mean you can’t sell another on the iBooks Store, the Nook Store, Kobo, Google Play, and hundreds of other retail sites.

. . . .

Once you’ve signed up, whether at publication time or after, the title is locked in for a term of 90 days. In order to have the title remain enrolled, you have to keep that box checked — which it will until you go in there and change something.

In order to remove your title, on the other hand, you have to uncheck the box, and then wait until the term expires.

. . . .

By the way, just in case I haven’t made it clear, unless you sign up your book for KDP Select, you get no benefit at all out of selling exclusively on Amazon.

. . . .

Back when I first started selling ebooks, eight years ago, there were some nice benefits to enrolling in KDP Select. Although Amazon has added and subtracted over the years, there still are.

The current list of benefits includes:

  • Making your title available through the KindleUnlimited (KU) subscription service
  • Offering promotions:
    • Free
    • Countdown
  • Increased royalties in some non-US markets

That’s about it.

. . . .

KindleUnlimited

This is Amazon’s ebook subscription service — a “Netflix for ebooks” setup.

The reader can “borrow” up to ten KindleUnlimited titles at a time, all for the low, low price of $9.99/month. For folks who read in bulk — the folks who are our bread and butter — this is a very nifty deal.

From the publisher point of view, here’s how it works:

  1. Amazon estimates the number of “pages” based on the wordcount of your book. (They call this count the title’s Kindle Estimated Normal Pages or KENP.)
  2. When a reader checks out the book, Amazon keeps track of the highest-numbered page that the reader has reached. — You can keep track of “page reads” on your KDP sales reports.
  3. Each month, Amazon announces how much money all of the KU-enrolled books will share. (It’s usually a bit over $20 million.)
  4. That war chest gets divided by the total number of KENP “read” during the month — that’s the share each KENP earns that month.
  5. Amazon multiplies your total number of KENP for all titles that month by the share, and adds that to your royalties.

. . . .

Because the total amount of money that Amazon splits for a particular month is fixed, this has made it particularly vulnerable to scamming, and particularly maddening for the honest publisher — your only recourse in order to earn more is to raise the total number of pages read, which means either marketing the heck out of every title you’ve got enrolled in the program (which you were hopefully doing already), offering more titles (possibly pulling them off of other retailers to qualify them for KU), or offering longer books. But as more and more and longer and longer titles go up on KU, the value of each KENP share goes down.

. . . .

There are two types of promotions — Free and Countdown. In either case, you can offer the title for up to five days in a 90-day enrollment period, though during that period you can only offer one or the other of these promotions — not both.

Also, you can only offer them (at the moment) on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk (the US and British sites). These won’t help you on Amazon’s sites in Canada, Australia, or India, for example.

. . . .

The countdown promo is fun; it offers you one or more promotional price over the period of the promo — and keeps a countdown timer going that announces just how much time readers have before the price goes up. This is a classic marketing ploy to take advantage of customers’ fear of missing out (the famous FOMO effect).

One other nice thing about the countdown promo: it’s the only way you can get a full 70% royalty for a title priced (temporarily) under $2.99.

. . . .

The Benefits of Going Wide

Back in 2014, when Amazon instituted the new KENP system for calculating KU earnings, I had about 50% of my titles enrolled in KDP Select — most of them short stories that earned incredibly well per borrow, and that served as “loss leaders” that lost me, in fact, nothing. Folks would read a short story by one of my authors (earning us both a royalty), then read one of the longer works, netting us more. Nice.

This lovely symbiosis disappeared with the KENP setup and its emphasis on longer KU titles.

Since then, I’ve stopped enrolling titles in the program, and over the past year I’ve slowly been letting the enrolled titles lapse. At this point I have just one KDP Select title.

The rest of my titles — about eighty by twenty authors — are offered wide. That is, they’re available on Amazon, but also on Apple, Kobo, B&N, Google, Overdrive, ScribD and many, many more.

. . . .

Unlike the KDP Select program, the three benefits here are really simple:

  1. I can earn more money.
  2. I can please more of my readers.
  3. I’m not encouraging monopolistic behavior.

. . . .

Most “wide” indie and self-publishers report that sales on Amazon represent 60%–85% of their ebook revenue. Myself, last year, I earned 62% of my ebook royalties through Kindle sales. In my most Amazon-slanted years I’ve earned about 80% of my ebook income from Jeff Bezos’s company.

That’s a lot.

However, I do wish to point out that that leaves 20%–38% of my income that wasn’t earned through Kindle sales.

I’d also like to point out that, while Amazon holds all but a monopoly on US ebook sales, outside the country it is a far, far less dominant market. The more my sales have gone international, the more I rely on channels like Kobo and Apple, and on distributors like Smashwords, PublishDrive, and Draft2Digital.

Link to the rest by David Kudler at The Book Designer

PG excerpted more than he usually does from the OP because he suspects Mr. Kudler operates in a different manner than a lot of indie authors do.

That said, PG thinks it’s a good idea not to run any business on autopilot, so he will be interested in the comments of others about the decision between Amazon with additional benefits vs. using everyone.

Spotify’s Big Lie, Streaming Habits Mirror Purchasing Habits

From Trichordist:

One of the biggest lies told by Spotify is that streaming will provide more revenue over the life of a record because every play will be monetized. This as opposed to the one time payment earned from a transactional purchase where all the revenue from the purchase of the record is paid at once. There is however, a very big problem with this theory, which is that the consumption curves of streaming match the consumption curves of transactional sales.

So, what about that so called long tail? Well, it doesn’t exist. Not for music consumption. Or we should say, it doesn’t exist any different for streaming than it did has for transactional sales. What do you think is more profitable in generating revenue? Is it the album sales of artists catalogs, or is streams?

Keep in mind, streaming is a fixed cap market. So it does not matter how much the market grows in actual consumption, the revenue is capped by the amount of revenue earned by the hosting provider. If consumption doubles, but revenues stay flat, every stream is worth half of what it was previously.

. . . .

We’re already seeing this trend as we noted earlier this year that Spotify per stream rates appear to be dropping steadily by about 8% per year.

Link to the rest at Trichordist

Kindle Unlimited Per-Page Rate Dips in March 2018 as the Funding Pool Increases

From The Digital Reader:

While the Kindle Unlimited funding pool grew by 5% in March 2018, the per-page royalty did not.

. . . .

From Self-Publisher Bibel (please fill in the missing numbers):

  • US: $0.0045 (USD)
  • Germany: €0.0031 (EUR)
  • Netherlands, France, Spain, Italy: €0.0045 (EUR)
  • Canada: $0.0046 (CAD)
  • Brazil: R$ 0.0109 (BRL)
  • Japan: 0.5568 (JPY)
  • UK, Mexico, Australia, Canada, India: unknown

Link to the rest at The Digital Reader

The profits from publishing: authors’ perspective

From The Bookseller:

Publishers’ figures show authors aren’t getting a fair deal.

. . . .

Authors’ incomes are suffering: a 2013 Authors’ Licensing & Collecting Society (ALCS) study showed professional authors’ typical annual income had fallen by 29%, to £11,000. ALCS is updating the study: we ask all authors to take part.

According to their own published data, the profit margins of the big corporate publishers are increasing. In 2008 Simon & Schuster Inc reported a profit margin of 9%; in 2016 it was 16%. Together, Penguin and Random House now record a margin of 16%, almost double what they recorded separately. You don’t just need to take my word for it. The Bookseller editor Philip Jones believes that trade publishing is now more profitable than it was, possibly by as much as third. That is a spookily similar figure to the 29% by which author incomes have fallen over a similar period. According to Jones, the average profit margin of a corporate publisher is now around 13%, where once it was 10%.

In the Publishers Association’s recent study The Contribution of the Publishing Industry to the UK Economy, consultancy Frontier Economics estimated that in 2016 £161m was paid to authors in advances, royalties and secondary rights revenue, and that the UK publishing industry’s turnover was £5.1bn, of which book sales contributed £3.5bn (69%) and sales of academic journals £1.2bn (24%). That means authors received around 3% of publisher turnover. Even if we take out journal revenue—where authors are, shockingly, paid next to nothing—authors were receiving less than 5% of turnover in the same year that (major) publishers’ profits were around 13%. (That turnover figure includes non-trade publishers, where margins are typically even higher).

. . . .

Society of Authors president Philip Pullman comments: “To allow corporate profits to be so high at a time when author earnings are markedly falling is, apart from anything else, shockingly bad husbandry. It’s perfectly possible to make a good profit and pay a fair return to all of those on whose work, after all, everything else depends. But that’s not happening at the moment. I like every individual editor, designer, marketing and publicity person I deal with; but I don’t like what publishers, corporately, are doing to the ecology of the book world. It’s damaging, and it should change.”

. . . .

Our experience shows that what publishers do pay is going to a smaller pool of authors. That is short-sighted. Figures from Nielsen BookScan, compiled by The Bookseller, show 5,093 authors had sales (not income, of course) more than £10,000 in 2017. Collectively, those authors accounted for 56% of the £1.59bn total books sold. So a big proportion of sales—44%, or £699m—came from authors with sub-five-figure sales. Publishers cannot ignore authors who net 44% of their sales, and authors cannot continue on the earnings they recoup from these sales: an EU study found the average an author earned from lifetime sales of each book was £6,000.

. . . .

“Working-class writers can’t afford to take up a career in writing, it is considered elitist and too risky. Families with uncertain incomes often expect their children to leave education earlier and to support them, and press them to get a ‘proper’ job rather than rely on writing.”

Link to the rest at The Bookseller

The Music Modernization Act Misses the Mark

From Variety:

Three pieces of legislation that aim to update the ways that royalties are paid to songwriters and artists — the Music Modernization Act, the CLASSICS Act and the AMP Act — are going before Congress later this year.

. . . .

The Music Modernization Act (“MMA”) is an important piece of copyright legislation with the potential to benefit the music community, most important, songwriters and composers, who may finally receive just compensation for the millions of streams of their work fans enjoy and on which digital music services base their businesses. But the current draft fails to deliver on that promise.

As the MMA moves closer to a vote in Congress, those of us who have refrained from joining the cheering squad have had time to study its details and likely long-term consequences. The more we’ve looked at it, the more concerned we’ve become. While there are a good number of serious issues with the bill, its fundamental flaw is that it completely fails to accomplish one of its most important goals: ensure that all the writers whose music is played on digital music services get paid.

The idea sounds simple enough. The digital music services have agreed to pay for every stream of every song. There are ways to determine whose song is whose. The rate is all set. So what’s the problem?

The problem is that the major music publishers have seized this opportunity to attempt to tighten their tenuous grip on the music publishing business, using the MMA to install themselves as the gatekeeper for tens of millions of dollars in unclaimed royalties from digital music services, and, in effect appointing themselves as the sole judge and jury about who is entitled to be paid, how they will be paid, and even if they will be paid.

The publishers have gone so far as to claim that if the writer of a song doesn’t file a proper claim within 36 months of performance, 100% of the royalties from those streams will instead be paid to the top publishers (and some of their biggest writers) via the world’s largest “black box” of royalties. Really?

The music business is going through an unprecedented period of growth, fragmentation, and democratization. A new generation of writers is looking for new ways to get their music to market, and new business paradigms based on transparency and technology are being developed with and for them. Big music publishers still control a large portion of the business, but a global world of independent writers and publishers is beginning to challenge their dominance.

We won’t go into all the details of the MMA (it’s more than 100 pages long) except to say that the complicated organizational structure it establishes pretty much ensures that a big pile of money will end up in the black box, destined for distribution to the major publishers based on their market share. It is highly unlikely that the tens of thousands of independent self-published and unpublished writers whose music is performed on Spotify and other digital music services will ever get their fair share.

Proponents of the bill claim to have the support of the tens of thousands of music creators. We strongly believe that few, if any, of those writers understood the details of the bill or its implications when they were asked for support.

Link to the rest at Variety

Can Blocking Ads Help Artists?

From The Trichordist:

In the fight for fair pay artists are not at war with the Internet or really even the streaming services, we are at war with the online advertising industry.   As we have demonstrated time and time again, subscription (paid) music streaming services pay at least 7 times the rate that the free services pay.   When you see artists (like myself) post absurdly low royalty payments it’s usually from one of the services that is predominately ad supported. Above is a chart that illustrates this nicely.

So for artists the solution seems easy:  get rid of ad-supported free tiers.  The problem is that in order to do away with these ad-supported tiers we have to fight not just the music streaming services but we have to fight the real power behind the throne:  the online advertising industry which is dominated by Google. Indeed all three ad supported services above rely on Google to serve their ads.

. . . .

So what would happen if most consumers decided to block ads?

First of all it’s not a question of if consumers will block ads but when.  Consumers have grown increasingly suspicious of the entire ad tech industry.  It’s not just the annoying banners, pop-ups and pre-rolls that slow down our browsing experience, consumers have finally become aware of the industrial scale data mining and spying operations used by the online advertising industry. These companies are tracking virtually every web page you visit and often know your physical location to within a few meters.

. . . .

While it’s relatively easy now to block pop-ups and banner ads it’s more difficult to block ads on Spotify and YouTube.   But it is doable (if a little clunky)  and it is only a matter of time before ad blocking technology catches up with the streaming services. Apple has announced its intention to allow ad blocking in the newest IOS.  It’s unclear if this will eventually block ads in Spotify and YouTube but most users would welcome it.

So what happens to artists if this happens?  If it becomes suddenly possible to block all ads?

In the short term artists would lose revenue.   But it is not as bad as you think.  If ALL the free streams on Spotify went away IMMEDIATELY artists would see their Spotify payments drop only 16%.

. . . .

YouTube is the biggest digital platform of all. Yet as a songwriter I received $12.87 from YouTube last quarter.  By my calculations YouTube paid all rights holders (label/publisher/songwriter) less than $340 for access to my catalogue.  YouTube revenue is not gonna save artists and or the industry at large.   I will barely miss it.  And YouTube is clearly inhibiting the growth of subscription services that pay higher revenues.

Link to the rest at The Trichordist

Audible is Paying Inexplicable Bonuses to Authors in Audible Romance

From The Digital Reader

After news broke last week Audible was paying an abysmally low royalty rate for its romance audiobook service, Audible Romance, the audiobook retailer promised to patch the problem with a bonus, but wouldn’t give specifics.

The bonus payments have started to arrive, and we still don’t know any more than we did before.

. . . .

So far the reports from authors include:

  • I received my bonus. It was $140. I only made $5 in the program.
  • I got $25 and I had no minutes for the period.
  • I made one cent from two books and got a $25 bonus.

. . . .

While it’s great that Audible is making up for last quarter’s disastrous royalty payment, they still haven’t said anything about how they will fix the fundamental problem of the Audible Romance subscription service.

Link to the rest at The Digital Reader

PG says Amazon has rarely made a misstep when it comes to compensating authors, but he suspects more than one indie author (and way more than one voice actor) is mentally placing Audible on probation.

Audible’s product quality is also likely to take a hit as authors choose lower budget narrators like Uncle Harry, who was a shock jock in Los Angeles thirty years ago, still has a bunch of old recording equipment in the garage and promises not to do drugs before recording sessions.

Successful indie authors are entrepreneurial and will spend their time and effort where there’s a real payback.

How Spotify (and others) Could Have Avoided Songwriter Lawsuits, Ask The Labels.

From The Trichordist:

Spotify could have completely avoided its legal issues around paying songwriters.  The company could have sought to obtain the most recent information about the publishing and songwriters for every track at the service.  The record labels providing the master recordings to Spotify are required to have this information. All Spotify (and others) had to do, was ask for it.

Here’s how it works.

For decades publishers and songwriters have been paid their share of record sales (known as “mechanicals”) by the record labels in the United States. This is a system whereby the labels collect the money from retailers and pay the publishers/songwriters their share. It has worked pretty well for decades and has not required a industry wide, central master database (public or private) to administer these licenses or make the appropriate payments.

This system has worked because each label is responsible for paying the publishers and songwriters attached to the master recordings the label is monetizing. The labels are responsible for making sure all of the publishers and writers are paid. If you are a writer or publisher and you haven’t been paid, you know where the money is – it is at the record label.

Streaming services pay the “mechanicals” at source which are determined by different formulas and rules based upon the use. For example non-interactive streaming and web radio (simulcasts and Pandora) are calculated and paid via the appropriate performing rights society like ASCAP or BMI. These publishing royalties are treated more like radio royalties.

. . . .

Every physical album and transactional download (itunes and the like) pays the “mechanical” publishing to the record label directly, who then pays the publishers and writers.  This publishing information exists as labels providing the master recordings to Spotify have this information. All Spotify (and others) have to do, is ask for it.

Link to the rest at The Trichordist

PG says the system doesn’t sound all that simple, but he’s not in the music business.

Erotica publisher, author charged for manipulating book sales

From the Weld County District Attorney:

A Johnstown woman who publishes and writes romance novels is facing nearly two dozen charges after altering her clients’ book sales and pocketing the stolen royalties.

Jana Koretko was arrested and charged Monday with five counts of money laundering, four counts of felony theft, nine counts of computer crime and three counts of tax evasion.

According to the arrest affidavit, Koretko owns JK Publishing, primarily exclusive to romance and Erotica authors, and is accused of stealing more than $125,000 from multiple clients over a two-year period.

The Weld County District Attorney’s Office was first notified of the alleged scheme in August 2015 when one of the company’s authors noticed several discrepancies in her royalty payments. After further investigation, authorities learned Koretko was manipulating the monthly and quarterly sales reports from E-book retailers, like Amazon, iTunes, Barnes and Noble and Kobo, to indicate lower sales.

In some instances, she even inflated or exaggerated book sales to make the authors believe the novels were doing well or becoming bestsellers.

Over the course of the investigation, 15 authors were identified as victims in Koretko’s alleged scam. It was also determined she under-reported book sales by more than 10,000 books, resulting in more than $125,000 in royalty losses to her clients.

Link to the rest at Weld County District Attorney and thanks to Kris for the tip.

PG never thought about criminal prosecution for publishers who cheat their authors.

He really likes the idea.

As celebrity books boom, professional authors are driven out of full-time work

From The Guardian:

Despite scoring three bestsellers in five years and a clutch of awards, The Spinning Heart author Donal Ryan has been forced to return to his day job in the Irish civil service in order to pay his mortgage.

Ryan has become the latest casualty of tumbling incomes for writers. Despite receiving advances and signing a deal to write three more books with his publisher, the Irish novelist said he had found it impossible to earn a living wage as a full-time writer.

. . . .

Saying his earnings amounted to about 40 cents per copy sold, he told the newspaper he had taken a job in the Workplace Relations Commission.

. . . .

Ryan’s decision came as children’s authors hit out at celebrity children’s books. Tales of Terror author Chris Priestley told the Bookseller that professional authors were finding it hard to compete for advances and shelf space. “It’s a tricky time in publishing at the moment,” he said. “I met a lot of writers last year who were having a hard time and in negotiations they were finding it harder to get the advances they got a couple of years ago.”

Priestley said that while the market was tough for all writers, celebrities were at an advantage competing for book deals. “It seems as though if you’re a celebrity you can just express the idea you would like to do a book – like [radio DJ] Christian O’Connell did on Twitter – and you will get a deal. I still have to pitch my books.”

In the last two years comedians and YouTubers have rushed into the market, some signing six-figure deals, while professional authors’ advances slipped to as low as three and four figures. Adding “children’s author” to their CV are the likes of David Walliams, Russell Brand, Danny Baker, Frank Lampard and Pharrell Williams.

CJ Daugherty, who writes thrillers for young adults, claimed ghostwritten children’s books risked undermining readers’ trust. “We can tell ourselves that readers must know a C-List celebrity, famous for opening makeup boxes on YouTube, isn’t capable of writing an 80,000-word novel,” she told the Bookseller. “But the whole system seems designed to fool people into thinking they are.”

Author and children’s book critic Amanda Craig told the trade magazine: “It’s distasteful [that] celebrities and their agents seem to think publishing a novel is a way to use their brand to make more money and, with the exception of David Walliams, they’re not very good.”

Link to the rest at The Guardian and thanks to Dave for the tip.