Let’s back up. Digital Rights Management (”DRM is not inherently evil, but it’s not winning friends or influencing readers. Any mechanism that keeps people from accessing their legally purchased books is a failure. The fact that there are no clear (or even standard!) guidelines related to how ebook purchases can be used in the real world — is it really up to the reader to figure this stuff out? — is frustrating.

Now for the comments, the thoughts, and more reaction!

• Adobe Digital Editions — It’s not an experience people love, yet it’s also becoming an industry standard. I challenge all parties involve to talk to real readers about their frustrations and come up with a solution that makes people happy. As one person said:
  

  Oh, do I hear you on the ADE. The books I first got in ADE format were FREE and I was still so furious over the whole thing that I’d never go that route again.

• Device Specific DRM — As more reading devices flood the market, the problems with using DRM to tie readers to devices and retailers will make news. News Flash: most people do not know that they’re being limited in their ability to transfer books between devices. Once the Nook is released in the wild, and based on pre-sales, it seems to be popular, mixed Kindle/Nook families are going to face some serious challenges. Is the industry prepared to take on this discussion? As noted:
  

  The other aspect of DRM that is super annoying is that, for the moment, it is far too device-specific. I couldn’t seriously consider a Sony when I was looking at eReaders, for example, because their library-management software doesn’t run on a Mac. Get real. This is a cross-platform world, folks, and I don’t mean just Mac vs. PC. If I buy a book, I want to be able to read it on my Kindle, my iPod, my Mac, my Sony (should I have one), my Nook (should I have one)…

• Limited Scope Lending Is Attractive — The feature readers like most on the Nook is the ability to lend. For a limited term. To one person. Under very proscribed circumstances. This is a selling point, and allows readers to play their role in the word-of-mouth game. However,
  

  But, of course, Publisher’s Lunch let out the dirty secret that all the big publishers have no plans to participate in this feature right now, despite feigning excitement at the official unveiling. Sure, B&N didn’t have freebies for them, but that’s no reason to get snippy. Joking aside, though, if none of the big publishers will allow their books to be lent, what good does it do the reader. It DOES let smaller publishers get their name out, which I am grateful for, but it still doesn’t do the consumer much good.

  Another commenter added:

  I also agree–how bizarre to complain on the one hand that there are not enough people reading, then make it hard to access books. Or share them – word of mouth works a lot better if you can actually pass along the book and create a new fan. “I just read the best book. You’ll have to pay ten bucks to see if you agree with me” doesn’t work so well.

• The Horse Has Left The Barn — DRM does not stop piracy. Anyone who believes this is deluded. The only effective way to prevent piracy is to never write the book in the first place. This is an unworkable scenario for many (obvious) reasons. In what might be the most radical — or perhaps it’s practical — of thoughts, it was suggested that the time has come to accept torrent-sharing as part of the digital process. As Sean Cranbury noted:
  

  Smart publishers already know this and are working to figure out how to work with the digital consumer flow – or, dare I say it, torrent – and are not wasting their time on ways to prevent their content from being read but rather working with the technologies, readers and other opportunities to keep themselves and their writers relevant going forward.

  Even from my safe location in Pasadena, I can hear the gasps. And Sean’s point may, eventually, have far less to do with DRM than it does business models.

• The Netflix Model Resonates — I personally think there’s much potential in this approach, and I hope the publishing industry views the many (many!) schemes put before it in the near future with an eye toward experimentation instead of reacting in fear. When life gives you new revenue streams, go with the flow. Here’s one thought:
  

  I think you’re right about a “true Netflix-type model” having potential. I can imagine a book club/Netflix mix where there is a flat rate per month and access to differing numbers of e-books for a set amount of time.

• Social DRM: It’s Something to Consider — While there are certainly legal issues with next commenter’s solution, social DRM is gaining traction (among DRM skeptics!) as a potential solution to one type of pirate:
  

  The only purpose to DRM is to prevent casual copying, since committed pirates have long since worked out how to break all the DRM schemes currently used. So why not switch to watermarking? Instead of using encryption to lock a book down and making life difficult for those who legitimately purchase books, use it to watermark the book with the purchaser’s name and credit-card (or SS) number.

• DRM Restrictions Reduce Value to Consumers — This was mentioned in a few different ways. The first:
  

  In response to one argument I read, does DRM-free eBooks address the low price point argument? If we sell eBooks without DRM, can I sell them at a higher price because I’ve given the user total access? If not, then there’s something else at play.

  In this instance, I’d suggest to Allen, the commenter, that there is far more at play in the pricing game than just DRM. The restrictions (or challenges) caused by DRM are just part of the overall ebook pricing problem. I honestly believe the only way publishers can convince people to pay above $10 for ebooks — particularly narrative fiction — is to increase the value of the books.

  And by increasing the value, I don’t mean pricing the books higher. I mean adding value. Adding quality. Adding content. Cheap conversions without quality control undermine the value argument faster than anything else. Lack of understanding of consumer desires undermines the argument. Ebook prices can be higher, but the value of the ebook needs to match the price.

  And then:

  Sean, you might extend the “free to share” analysis (something you know I agree with) to consider how restricted content is actually worth less to the buyer. I’ve been thinking lately that DRM locks may be contributing to lower digital content prices.

  Which lead to some interesting commentary about value and community:

  One writer in question was pretty far out front of the pack. Not only was her book published by a major press but she was leveraging the work online with seminars, paid discussions, other ancillary revenue generators and a .pdf available for sale from her site for $32.95. I was/am beyond impressed.

  The high price point for the digital file in her case works for a few reasons… 1) highly specific content 2) natural readership respects the authors copyright 3) natural readership doesn’t possess technical know how to upload to torrent sites 4) natural readership doesn’t download torrents for same reason 5) writer has created a unique readership community that understands and respects the price of admission and is happy to spend the money on something that they consider valuable…

The comments above don’t change my views, though I am intrigued by Sean Cranbury’s thoughts on pricing (see full comment; I only pulled the bit I needed about DRM), because while I’ve shifted from the mental price point he states to one that is higher, I suspect his argument has traction in a large portion of the reading community.

So where I remain: people don’t mind DRM as much as they mind how it’s implemented. The argument that it keeps honest people honest is stupid. Most people aren’t inclined to engage in piracy; the effort and risks involved aren’t attractive to the average consumer. The future is smart DRM. The path to disaster is dumb DRM. That is all.

How do we get past “it’s good” or “it’s evil”?

Not true. And not true.

Consumers will happily accept the shackles of DRM if the trade-off is worth it to them. For example, while some Kindle users grumble about loss of rights, they express joy at the ease of purchase created by the Kindle system. On the flip side, some readers — I am one of them — hate Adobe Digital Editions. My first experience resulted in the server being unable to authenticate. Seriously, I bought books and couldn’t read them because the fracking server couldn’t authenticate.

Subsequent experiences have not made me happy. I avoid the ADE experience with everything I have. There’s something wrong with a system that continually makes a person forget why they opened an application in the first place. I don’t doubt that this experience can be improved, and I believe Adobe is sincere about making the whole process seamless. I just haven’t been thrilled by it yet.

Because consumers have grown wary of DRM — publishers, it’s not your fault alone; the music industry did you a bad this past decade — it’s hard to talk reasonably about DRM. I really liked it when Adam Hodgkin reframed the issue, noting it’s about Managing Digital Rights (”MDR”). Because that’s what we all need to be talking about.

Once we get past the “we have to have it to stop piracy”, a fallacy if ever one were uttered, and into the “how can we better manage the consumer experience” discussion, the better. I’m going to start right now. Join me. Please.

The most obvious, and most logical, reason for placing access restrictions on content is to limit the amount of time a person can utilize the content. Access to library books is controlled via software that automatically activates and expires a book, a video, a piece of music. This same technology can be extended to allow the reader to purchase or re-up the rental period on the media. The rules are clear to both the consumer and the library. That’s nice.

I won’t be surprised if we start seeing serious, robust ebook rental schemes. I’d already been thinking about them when I had two completely unrelated conversations about the idea. By serious, I mean a true Netflix-type model where ongoing revenue to the publisher and author is part of the program. Again, everyone knows the rules, and there is potential for purchases galore.

In the purchasing realm, I am convinced the smart way to manage digital rights is to allow people to buy books and let them choose the format. I am not opposed to rules where the book can only be downloaded a total of, oh, 10 times or activated on x-number of devices…as long as that access is clearly stated, upfront, to the consumer. Make it reasonable (we all know how technology evolves). Again, everyone knows the rules.

Discerning readers saw the thread throughout this post. Now let’s talk about how to move forward. As you might imagine, the first step is for publishers (and authors) to listen to what their customers (readers) are saying about DRM. Let me reiterate: people don’t mind restrictions as long as they know what they’re getting and what the limits are. I fully understand that the books I “purchase” for my Kindle are not owned by me — this is why I refuse to spend over $10 for an ebook. I lose rights.

(You knew pricing was a huge part of this topic; DRM and prices go together like “ramma lamma lamma ka dinga da dinga dong“. In fact, the various rights lost by consumers are all factors in how they perceive the value of a book.)

As you can imagine, a lot of the burden for moving this conversation forward is, necessarily, on publishers. Readers have spoken quite clearly. They’ve engaged in discussions, put forth points of compromise, and — this is a tough one — are extremely well-informed about the issue. They may not know DRM by name, but they know what it is.

Now it’s time for the industry to have a similar discussion. A real discussion. A conversation that starts with ideas about communication and smart management of digital rights. This conversation should not take place in the industry bubble (it’s fun in there, sure, but the echo could drive you batty). Involve everyone, listen to everyone, but give a lot of weight to what the people who pay you money have to say.

Every barrier between a reader and her book is an opportunity for someone else to capture that reader’s attention. This is the challenge the industry faces. The books I bought the day ADE thwarted me were never read. Never talked about. And I’ve never purchased via that channel again. In this case, the publisher, who had me on the direct sales channel, has lost me to a larger retailer. This is less revenue for the publisher and more opportunity for me to be distracted by other bright and shiny things.

Managing digital rights is the best conversation the industry can have right now. Goodwill is flowing toward publishers, but the grumbling is growing louder. So how do we move this conversation forward?

What really surprises me is when you hear publishing people say that they don’t know what to do, or that they refuse listen to Internet professionals. They seem to believe if they do what has worked in the past, eventually the storm will pass and the anchor of tradition will have kept them steady and safe. They look at the people who are succeeding by merging their digital plans with their traditional print plans and call them anomalies at best, or insane at worst. What they need to be doing is learning from them.

• I Am Not Afraid, Dammit – Author Mur Lafferty on the future

Which probably accounts for my mood today. Here in the dark and dangerous world of the publishing underground, spirits are sapped and minds are bent. Sometimes you travel toward the bright light, only to find a seemingly insurmountable pile of “that’s how we’ve always done it” in your way. The intrepid, of course, find new routes and discover magical beings; they’re here, too. Follow the intrepid, I say, follow the intrepid!

• An Old Twist on the Price Wars Becomes New Again: Remember Crown Books? They were going to Destroy Publishing as We Know It (this is not the same thing as merely Destroying Publishing). Luckily, family tensions destroyed Crown Books first. Sometimes you catch a break. Now we have Amazon, Target, Wal-Mart, and Sears battling each other for dominance; their weapons of choice are front-list, high profile hardcover books.

  In any other situation, publishing would be thrilled to get so much free publicity (woe to those whose titles are not mentioned in every breathless news story!). However, this battle has bigger implications. Naturally, the industry fallback position is that these deep, deep price cuts will destroy the industry. No, but if the trend sticks, it’s going to add to the increased retailer pressure on book prices. Retailers will not subsidize the difference between wholesale and retail forever — as they’re doing here with print (and as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and others have been doing with ebooks).

  Prices for a few books have dropped below nine dollars (yet, the new Stephen King ebook, discussed further below, remains priced at $35.00. For an ebook.). That hurts independent publishers, though the smart ones are also seeing opportunity. Why buy from traditional distributors when a trip to Wal-Mart will offer more margin. Poke ‘em in the eye! (Contrary analysis here, worth reading and deep thought)

  Where is the consumer outrage? Hint: there isn’t any. Or at least there’s not enough to note. That should probably give the industry pause. Luckily, the American Booksellers Association is on the case: they’re asking the Justice Department to investigate.

• Stephen King Repeats The Stupid Meme: I am opposed to the current trend of delaying ebook releases until after the initial hardcover window. Especially when the stated reason is to protect someone or something (like, oh, hardcover sales). It’s false logic. You are not going to help independent booksellers by delaying the ebook release. That’s like saying eggs and lemons are interchangeable.

  No seriously, Stephen King, delaying the ebook to “help” independent booksellers (an irony you acknowledge, given the recent price wars) is about the silliest notion I’ve ever heard. How about this instead: if the ABA had a serious and robust ebook sales system, then the customer (reader, buyer) could purchase the format s/he wants from local booksellers. Delaying the ebook doesn’t “help” anyone (Scribner? that digital list price, even if these discounts weren’t happening, can you justify this?). People who prefer ebooks will not shrug and say, “Well, that’s okay, I’ll just buy print.”

  (Yeah, this means that publishers will have to get smarter about pricing ebooks. The current approach remains unsustainable and, let’s say it again, silly.)

  When publishers justify this behavior by noting staggered releases have long been the norm (”that’s how we’ve always done it”), they discount the reader, especially the rabid, money-paying, willing to buy books reader. Yeah, I should be treated with deference. I should get preferential treatment. I want to pay for these books right now, not borrow them from a library or a friend, not buy them used. Protecting the old business model only works if…oh, the market will remain frozen in time forever. It won’t.

• Barnes & Noble Puts Up Its Nooks: When the Barnes & Noble ebook store was launched, I was underwhelmed. The store was slick, the prices were right, it had an iPhone app. It was…okay. Nothing made the store stand out from the others. Honestly, it felt rushed. Like maybe the competition was getting to them and they wanted to grab some of the land. Rumors ran rampant — like rumors often do — and facts sometime emerged. I was soon convinced that B&N was working very hard to Get It Right.

  The nook (apparently lowercase is correct) show much promise: wireless, wifi (in-store only, right now), EPUB support, other format flexibility, limited sharing, even expanding the ecosystem beyond Barnes & Noble stores. B&N understands that eInk can only do so much, but, ahem publishers who are not taking cover art seriously, also leverages other technology to make some of the experience visually interesting. Oh sure, it’s not perfect, it’s not magic, and it’s not going to kill the Kindle.

  But B&N has shown a willingness to push the envelope, if only a little. Amazon, following the iPod/iPhone development and release pattern, will likely debut new Kindle family members that compete with the nook, but I’m not seeing Amazon opening up to new ecosystems. Right now, they don’t need to. Who suffers most? Yeah, Sony. Develop faster, little Sony, develop faster!

• Readers Have (Copy)Rights: I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but the basic premise behind copyright protections included the idea that the public had rights and, in exchange for protecting the copyright of an artist, would be granted a sort of quid pro quo. In the early days, this came in the form of things like, oh, limited copyright terms, which encouraged further artistic expression. I call the change in attitude about copyright “The Mickey Mouse Syndrome” as laws have certainly changed due to the influence of the Walt Disney Company.

  In all the talk about about piracy and file sharing and just plain exchanging books among family members, the rights of readers have been lost. We, the consumer have deal with this attitude about basic (and limited) sharing of books, which, you know, actually encourages reading and future sales (from Publishers Lunch, probably behind paywall):

  One executive, speaking not for direct attribution [BS: Why not? Make your case to us.], told us “We will work it out with them. We need the competition.” But another articulated the concern about setting a precedent. While agreeing that they “will keep talking to B&N and haven’t ruled anything out because details are still coming and I want a strong offer” from them to promote competition, this person expressed concern that “if publishers agree to lending then every ebook offer now and in the future will come with this consumer feature. Over time, I’m concerned that lending won’t grow the market and in fact could hurt it. I’d be more open if I thought ebook lending created a sustainable competitive advantage for BN over the Kindle – but I don’t think it does.”

  A few authors and readers are fighting back because sharing is not pirating. The industry perception that sharing is stealing and that readers are engaged in evil will lead to serious backlash. It’s never good to treat your best customers as thieves (no really, it’s just not!). Authors realize there is benefit to them when books are shared.

• Territorial Rights Is Good For Whom?: When Hilary Mantel won the Booker Prize, digiliterati noted that the book was not yet available in the United States (nor, I believe, were any of the other finalists). Neat. Book gets a boatload of publicity, is on the mind of readers, and the ability to purchase is, uh, not there? Ditto, as Ryan Chapman notes, for the new title from Stieg Larsson.

  Think about the publishing people: you have books people want to buy and read. And they can’t. Not in print, not in ebook form. Give me five paragraphs on why this is a smart business plan.

• Minds Were Blown: Remember the intrepid? They never engage in hand-wringing: they are too busy doing for such nonsense. At last week’s Tools of Change Frankfurt, Peter Brantley and Keith Fahlgren debuted BookServer. Afterward, Kirk Biglione noted to me that it might have been the biggest, most important session of the conference. A week later, during the “Make Books Apparent” conference, Fran Toolan of Firebrand Technologies agreed: “What I saw, was many of the dreams and visions of e-book aficionados everywhere becoming a demonstrable reality tonight.”

  I am incapable of explaining the entire project, so I am going to recommend that each and every one of you find a conference where BookServer is being introduced and — this is important — attend the demonstration. Don’t get sucked into hallway conversation. The takeaway, the important message, the critical thinking is that BookServer creates a framework that allows people to access freely available books, purchase them, borrow them, and all of the above and more. Let me say that again: the system supports all models from free to pay.

  This is why I believe in the future of publishing, libraries, and booksellers.

  (And I’m not even getting into the incredible implications this has on accessibility.)

I’m sure I’ll more thoughts on these topics because, well, I always do. The common thread, for those who skimmed, is that removing barriers between books and readers is the new publishing imperative. It’s time for change. We’ll give the final word to Richard Nash:

Publishing will never be stable again.

What this means is that we (publishers, authors, agents) are going to need to make decisions based on the world that is (people will make unauthorized copies, people will undercut your price), rather than the world we will wish for. Until recently, it was not clear that the publishing industry accepted this, but these statements by Richard Charkin, Victoria Barnsley and other industry decision-makers are powerful indicators that this approach has solidifed to the point of consensus.

• The fog begins to lift – Richard Nash on his Frankfurt takeawasy

DRM — Digital Rights Management — has effective and useful applications.

I heard representatives from major European publishers say (and I’m barely paraphrasing), “Piracy is bad. Stop piracy.” Um, okay. What’s the plan? I mean, we’re talking about putting an end to a practice that’s as old as humanity; most of our species gets that piracy bad, most don’t do it. Given the history of eradication when it comes to piracy, given the fact that legal markets generally win, and given the nuanced issues of digital piracy, doesn’t it make sense for publishing industry to move beyond the catch phrase?

Likewise with DRM. The Bookseller article linked above also noted concern from UK publishers about a DRM-free agenda. Well, yeah, what did you think Cory Doctorow was going to address in his keynote? The weather? No seriously, what did you expect, and did you really think he’d be anything less than provocative? It was supposed to make you think. Did you?

(And where were you, publishers, on this issue? You had 350-odd souls ready to hear your perspective. Talk about missed opportunities. You were on the agenda too. It would have been a perfect opportunity to engage in the dialogue.)

DRM — Digital Rights Management — has effective and useful applications, and I believe we’ll see smart DRM use in the near future. The problem, of course, is that the good of DRM is lost due to the very legitimate concerns about the bad of DRM. Doctorow — though an author and publisher (Boing Boing is a massive publishing effort) — speaks for readers when he expresses frustration about DRM. I’ll be blunt: the way most of you are implementing DRM is anti-reader.

I know people who, as a matter of course, crack DRM on their legally purchased books. Not because they wish to engage in piracy. Not because they have nothing better to do. No, it’s because they want the flexibility read in the manner that suits them best. The problem is that DRM stymies legitimate purchasers of books. So maybe what you perceive as an anti-DRM agenda is actually a pro-reader agenda. You can get behind that, right?

I mention these topics because I think they point to the elephant in the publishing house: accessibility. While this word is generally applied to the disabled community — a topic of another post — I am broadening it to include the bigger issue of growing the reading market. In his wrap-up of the event, Kirk Biglione called out two sessions that focused on connecting books and readers in underserved markets: sessions lead by Ramy Habeeb and Arthur Atwell.

When the international Kindle was announced, it brought the territorial rights issue back into the discussion (we missed you, territorial rights!), and, as I’ve, ahem, been saying for some time, rethinking how rights are granted can have a big impact on worldwide book sales. Consider this: you, dear publishers, are on the threshold of opening up new markets for your books. All you have to do is Get It Right.

(I am not downplaying the inevitable pain that will come from changing approaches to territorial rights; there will be shifts on the publishing side — so do you sit back and wait or do you seize opportunity?)

If you provide legal access to books in regions where none exists, you take away one impetus for piracy (piracy cannot be eliminated, it must be managed, don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise). If you use Digital Rights Management to effectively manage user (reader!) rights to content — instead of as an ineffective tool to stave off piracy — you can offer access in ways that confront the realities of reader budgets. Think short-term rentals, subscriptions, chunked content.

You’ll notice I used the word books instead of ebooks throughout this article. That is because I’m thinking about readers. I am a privileged reader: I have so much choice when it comes to format and selection. I have access to all the books I want, far more than I’ll ever read (heck, Penguin sent me duplicates of free books while I was I gone; sometimes I’ll get the same title two or three times — if they sent me digi-arcs, I’d probably read some of them).

Of course, I am already a book buying and book reading customer. You aren’t going to Save Publishing through me. I’m contributing at my maximum already. But those new readers, those new markets, those new possibilities? Ah, kind of makes your heart flutter, doesn’t it?

* – Yeah, I know, it looks like I’m pointing you to the article simply because one of the comments mentions my session. You get what you pay for around here.

(And this despite my lifelong love affair with the classic single purpose reader.)

I was wrong.

Oh, that’s so harsh. Let me soften the blow to myself: I wasn’t entirely right. Recently, I read an article entitled “Singe Purpose E-Book Readers are Dead“. This was moments after I’d been reading on my Kindle. In the backyard. In the sunshine. With the hummingbirds. Hummingbirds are surprisingly aggressive.

I got to thinking. I live on my laptop. It’s the first thing I see in the morning**, it’s the last thing I check at night. In between, I am constantly reading, writing, responding, and goofing off. This multi-function device, it’s being used right this very second, is like an extension of myself. We vacation together. We enjoy wine together (though I did have one laptop that didn’t take to wine, requiring emergency surgery and embarrassing revelations to computer repair people). My laptop has an entire wardrobe: a backpack, a lovely messenger-style bag, a more formal leather get-up, a snuggly jacket.

That was too much information, wasn’t it?

My iPhone has proven to be a wonderful reading device. And multi-functional device. I like the looks of the Microsoft Courier…words I never expected to type. Probably I will be agitating in an unattractive manner for the Apple Tablet, should an Apple Tablet ever be released. I’m not opposed to small, sleek devices that do lots of stuff.

But sometimes I just want to read. I don’t want potential distractions. I don’t want the possibility of potential distractions. And, trust me, if I have many functions, I will use many functions. Sometimes, I just want to get away from it all. I want that lovely solitude that comes when I am completely immersed in a story.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I know. But it turns out I prefer ebooks. For reasons great and small. I’m a reader, someone who gets hives when she’s away from text-based information for too long. I will read anything, any words. I read the little cards next to artwork before I look at artwork. Granted, my eye so discerning that my analysis is generally of the “ooh, pretty picture” variety. We all dig what we dig.

I realize that dedicated ereaders are not for everyone. They will likely only appeal to a certain kind of reader. That’s okay, you know? I realize they’re expensive, though I’d argue I’ve paid mine off. It’s achieving the little goals that matter, right? I realize they aren’t great for all types of reading. Fine. I am convinced that as tech gets cheaper and more pervasive, multi-gadget lives will be the rule, not the exception — how those multiple gadgets manifest in our lives is a longer, more nuanced discussion.

Don’t write off the single purpose device. Don’t write off the printed book. Don’t write off any method of connecting books and readers. As we move forward with digital reading, think about the story, the way the book (however you define it) will be used, the way the reader will want or need to interact with it. Think multiple ways — no need to expect a one-to-one relationship.

I believe readers do want single purpose devices. And multi-purpose devices. And many, many other things.

* – Though the Kindle does have web browsing capabilities.
** — Unless you count the cat using me as a launching pad. Or, my husband.

One of the things we’re doing the best, I think, is engaging with our audience, and listening. Publishing is a very insular industry, where insiders are constantly talking to each other, but very rarely do they actually talk to or listen to the actual end customer: the reader. There have traditionally been some very valid arguments as for why this is the case, but as digital media democratizes the world more and more, those arguments become much less convincing or even relevant.

Tor.com is one way in which we’re talking directly with readers, listening to what they have to say, and we’re finding out a lot about them. And I do mean a whole hell of a lot—some of the very dearly-held assumptions of the publishing industry really don’t hold much water with the reading public, and it’s very sobering to compare and contrast what I see and read every day on Tor.com in particular and the internet in general with what I see and hear from within the walls of the Flatiron building.

• Interview: Pablo Defendini: Awesome interview with an awesome guy!

Fine. All well and good so far. Nothing to consider, nothing to worry about. Unless the books don’t move, in which case, well, hmm, those poor trees.

The problem comes with this kind of thinking:

As with the Kennedy book, the digital edition of Palin’s memoir will not be released at the same time as the hardcover. “Going Rogue” will not be available as an e-book until Dec. 26 because “we want to maximize hardcover sales over the holidays,” Harper spokeswoman Tina Andreadis said Monday.

Publishers have been concerned that e-books, rapidly becoming more popular, might take away sales from hardcover editions, which are more expensive.

People, please. Get over yourselves. Yes, the ebook will drain away some hardcover sales — many of those customers are already lost to you. They choose ebooks for their own convenience, not yours. There is absolutely no evidence that withholding the ebook will encourage ebook readers to purchase the hardcover instead. None. Zilch. Nada. Not one iota. Zippo.

It’s more likely that withholding the ebook version will result in a lost sale. Let’s be realistic about this. The salacious and/or interesting parts will be excerpted and analyzed in the media (blogs, magazines, news sources) almost immediately after publication. Or, if the New York Times remains true to itself, before publication. That’s going to siphon off a good portion of the potential audience.

The ebook customer, a reader who for various reasons opts against print books, is going to carefully weigh the decision to buy this book over a month after initial release. If that reader remembers to make the purchase at all. This is a customer who makes a choice against print. They will not shrug and say, “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice. Gimme the hardcover.”

Maximizing hardcover sales over the holidays only works if a reader must absolutely have that book. Is the Sarah Palin memoir — premature, as many memoirs seem to be — going to be so compelling that it will be a huge holiday gift item (beyond her base)? There needs to be something amazing in this book to sustain interest over the long-term. Something that compels the ebook reader to make a purchase well after the good stuff has been dissected and analyzed.

Given the history of books of this nature, I’m not feeling it.

I suppose I am baffled by the business decision to alienate a growing segment of the reading public in an effort to protect another, especially when the result is most likely to be no sale at all. Makes no sense at all.

* – Yes Virginia, I am fully aware of the ghostwriter. Still, that was fast.

Book publishers are learning to love the Web. They have to.

• Publishers Try to Learn to Love the Web – Business Week article about publishers experimenting online