Editor Jonathan Karp of the imprint Twelve (he only prints 12 books a year so that he can give undivided promotional attention to each book a month) weighs in on the "disposable book" in the Washington Post:
Golly, I hope that the paper format never goes away, but I suppose at my age I will not live long enough to see e.books and e.zines take over. I still like the printed page. The sunlight does not keep me from reading--I just move to the shade or sit on the glider inside my "great pains" room--took great pains on the knees to put down the ceramic tiles. It can be beastly weather outside (lots of deer, birdlife, etc.) and I am cozy. All puns intended.
I skimmed this. He only publishes 12 books a year? Does this keep his company afloat? Or does the promotion assure him the sales? Interesting question. I have always maintained that publishers should cut back and concentrate on the books they really want to succeed. At the moment, they toss evrything at the public in hopes that the public will pick out the winners.
There is enormous disrespect for books in this country. We also have fewer readers of fiction as people seek their vicarious entertainment elsewhere. Reading takes a bit of effort and a minimal vocabulary.
A book takes as long as it takes. Some take 6 months, some take years. Clearly, though, if the author has to turn them out as fast as possible to make a living or to fullfill contract obligations, the result will be mediocre.
I'm not too concerned about what he projects, if only because the first part of his essay is devoted to announcing that no one in publishing really knows what's going on.
I take issue with his prediction of the demise of genre fiction. If the current system deteriorates as he describes, people will be more likely to read what they're comfortable with. To expect the average reader to concentrate only on what is "new and different" goes against everything experience has taught us. There are people who want something completely different from each book they read, but they do not make up the bulk of fiction readers.
Actually, it was farther down where he said, "Unfortunately, these attempts at producing consistent results don't work particularly well in an endeavor that is only slightly more predictable than a game of blackjack."
I wouldn't say an author should be spending more than two years writing a book if one isn't prone to do so anyway. Some do, of course, because of the need to compete, but the pressure, or need, to produce quicker results or more product makes a race horse of a writer. For formula writers that's fine, just another day at the office for a commission salesperson, but for the serious literary author it's likely to be more of a foreign, debilitating drug in one's system, a disease.
I suppose Karp is implying that the world of publishing is like a merry-go-round speeding up and one keeps up or one doesn't and risks being left behind. That is a choice only the author and publisher can make. But because the explosion of small presses, self-publishing, P.O.D.s, etc., has not made books more bankable or better for anyone, the conglomerate or the mom and pop, it certainly does explain, as Karp insinuates, why the traditional houses might eye a new was to stay in the game and grow, one of finding books that go the distance, books that will be selling fifty and a hundred years down the line, books readers will want in paper, if in no other format.
Gee, wouldn't that be something for writers and readers; publishers actually putting resources into their works and careers. Like the old days. Have to see it to believe it.