Thanks to my new fixation on the Publisher’s Weekly website, I learned that publishers are now numbering their galleys and ARCs to try to track down those who offer those galleys and ARCs on eBay.
They keep track of who got what number, and if they find it for sale, or receive word it was sold, that person is removed from the distribution list.
So I have to ask then, what do you authors prefer that folks do with their ARCs? Should there be an ARC-Etiquette?
Bad choices of words happen to all of us. And you won’t be the first or the last to piss off Nora.
I absolutely agree the reviewer provides a valuable service. But I don’t understand why YOU seem to be pissed off that publishers are trying to find a way to solve the problem of unethical ARC selling.
I don’t lump all reviewers and booksellers into one ball—and know my publisher doesn’t either. I object and am frustrated when people clump all writers or readers into one group for criticism.
I don’t know where your take on this is coming from. Mine is that those in this discussion—and indeed everyone I know in the industry—realize full well there are SOME who receive ARCs who have no compunction about selling them. And because it’s becoming a pretty wide-spread problem publishers are trying to find a way to circumvent it.
Works for me.
I appreciate the fact that you, personally, don’t sell ARCs. And I can only offer you my own take on this, and mostly every problem in the world, today, tomorrow and yesterday.
People ruin everything.
To whit, I offer the wisdom of Randal Graves, circa 1994:
“This job would be great if it wasn’t for the fucking customers.”
Okay, fair enough. My take is this: I read and love romance novels. I love my job as a reviewer. I love the fact that sites like this exist and people who are similarly inclined get together and support/talk with/have it out with each other on a regular basis.
In my little community, I spend a lot of time explaining that reading romance novels does not, in fact, negate my intelligence. My pretty degrees? Didn’t come from a cereal box. (that’s a direct example, by the way)
It bothers me on a deep and personal level that so much time and energy is spent on internal quibbling. I think it’s a monumental waste of our resources when it could be directed outward. Harlequin International recently presented information gleaned from months of research about public attitudes about romance. One suggestion? Change the name. The label ‘romance’ is associated with so many negative connotations now, that it might never break free. To me, that is an excellent use of resources. Figure out how to break the stereotypes and introduce the fact that romance and love are integral parts of being human.
Chasing down people who sell ARCs on Ebay? Doesn’t seem as important somehow. And the numbering and watching? I think it’s an over reaction, another example of nitpicking within the industry that damages the foundation.
My mom just told me I used to get this passionate about peanut butter sandwiches. The more things change…
~Appreciate it, but I don’t make the list, basically have nothing to do with it. I write the book, and that’s pretty much it.~
Fair enough. I’ll continue to get your books the way I’ve always gotten them. With cash 🙂
Thanks for allowing me to play Devil’s Advocate, ladies.
Why Romance publishers? Your complaint isn’t exclusive to the genre. And if, indeed, some very talented authors—in any genre—are dropped or not as promotionally supported due to low sales, it’s simply because publishing is a business.
I singled out Romance because in lit fic, where I read a lot, I don’t find this problem. Yes, publishing is a business, but it’s the business of peddling a certain craft, that of writing (some would say art), and yet I don’t always feel there is such a high value placed on the craft itself—on nurturing, supporting, promoting, and preserving a respect for craftsmanship. Like readers who will read books that aren’t really crafted all that well won’t appreciate books that are. I’ve been tempted, for example, to send books back to the publisher with egregious numbers of copyediting errors highlighted.
I, too, have a few authors I particularly enjoyed, and who weren’t able to develop enough of a readership to keep the publisher pushing them. I don’t blame the publisher. If I were to cast blame, I’d blame the big chunk of the reading public that didn’t appreciate as I did, and failed to buy the book.
In the same way that I don’t buy the wisdom of Adam Smith’s invisible hand, I also don’t really believe that the consumer is king in our economy. Sure readers have the choice among the books that are published, and publishers will tell us that they are publishing what we buy, but who is the first mover here?
It seems to some of us that once a certain author of type of book sells, we get the virtual clone of said author or book until we’re so sick of both that we’re ferreting for anything, ANYTHING different. Further, because Romance has readers who are loyal to the genre as much as to certain periods of authors, I think they are more likely to buy books they won’t end up liking too much because they want the generic fix, so to speak. So between genre loyalty among readers and copycat publishing, I think publishers ultimately narrow our reading choices, getting us to choose among books within a field already narrowed, in part by reader buying patterns, but also by publisher response to those patterns. And because there are so many standing in the wings waiting to be published, why should a profit oriented business patiently try to build on something different when they have so much “raw labor”? Unless, of course, they see books as more than, say, stereo parts. I’m not suggesting that publishers more actively arbitrate what’s “quality” Romance for readers; I just wish they’d offer more diversity, motivated if not by profit then by the idea that readers are just that—readers—not merely consumers.
-The reviewer is doing a job—or the reviewer is doing something he or she chooses to do. This is not a favor. –
Absolutely.
It’s not a favor. We, as reviewers, are not doing something for nothing. We’re reviewing books because we like it. Or that should be the case. If reviewers hate what they’re doing, they should stop. And what do we (reviewers) get in return? THE BOOKS FOR FREE. In arc form, sure, but still. There’s some serious value in that because, for most of us, I’m guessing we’d be shelling out big bucks each week/month for books, but because we review, we don’t spend that money.
So yes… reviewers do provide a service. And publishers provide us with books. It’s an exchange.
– Yet it seems, especially in the context of our current discussion, that the respect that goes with that service is somewhat lacking, as is evidenced by the grouping of all reviewers and ARC recipients into one, unethical, immoral, illegal bunch that needs to be policed and monitored a la Big Brother in order to get us to behave. –
In fact, I don’t believe that’s true. They’re not saying that all reviewers are selling arcs. Some publishers are going to try the numbering system because they know a *small* number of reviewers and other people who get arcs have proven themselves to be unethical people who don’t behave and apparently do need to be policed. They suck. I am not one of those unethical people, but I can certainly see the publishers’ side of things. They provide the arcs. They can stop providing the arcs whenever they like. Either because you’re a jerk who sold an arc on eBay, or because they just don’t like you today. (And by “you” I mean anyone in general, not the person who posted the above quote.)
In all this discussion, there’s a question that nobody has really answered (And I’m talking only about post-release ARCS):
1) If a reviewer has ethically donated ARCs that she no longer has room for (or a desire to keep,) what possible argument can be made for penalizing her if an administrator at the retirement center/hospital/home for the bewildered decides to toss the old unread ARCS when the pile becomes a danger to pedestrians, and a janitor decides to supplement his minimum wage by salvaging and selling them? Will the publishers hire ARC police to bring the true culprit to justice? Burning or shredding good books is just as immoral to me as selling them on Ebay is to some authors, and the publishers have no right to demand people waste their time shredding the things.
If you had a dog and legally gave it away, and it subsequently bit someone, how could you be held responsible for someone else’s dog? I say if ARCs must not be even given away, provide a SASE for their return if the reviewer requests one.
I’ve bought used books all my life—I read a lot and only buy new when an author is one of my favorites. (And sorry, I have no tears to shed for Stephen King; I doubt he even needs ARCS to ensure his sales.) It’s simply not reasonable for publishers to expect reviewers to keep and cherish ARCS for an indefinite period, nor to hold them responsible for what happens to the books once they’re out of the reviewers’ hands.
I’ve read the previous ARC posts—including the one from a small bookseller who was inundated with the things, unasked, and eventually gave them away when she ran out of shelf room. I think if the publishers spent the time and $ to reduce their scattergun ARC list to people who actually want to receive the books, they’d save enough money to pay the authors a royalty on the copies they send out for review. Because it seems to me that the authors are the only ones really hurt by ARC piracy—the publishers must write it off as advertising expenses.
And FWIW, IMO, yes indeed, reviewers do perform a service. Publishing is a business, yes? What business is going to give away merchandise unless they think they’re going to profit from this “gift?” They expect to make money as a result of those reviews, or they would not even bother. (I am neither a publisher nor a reviewer; I’m looking at this whole thing from a reader’s POV.) Pay the writers, write off the ARCS, and accept the fact that some kinds of promotional items become collectibles. If the author is given a royalty, this becomes a victimless crime and there are a hell of a lot of more important problems in the world.
I don’t think I’m the one to speak to the sameness in Romance—or any genre for that matter. My impression is that most of the readers who post here or on other boards read Romance more voraciously than I do. I think I’m more author-based in the majority of my reading. Certainly this is an opinion that’s been expressed by many on-line readers so I’m not disagreeing with you.
I’ll even agree that if a book hits, publishers will actively look for another like it, hoping to strike fire again. And a lot of writers will aim in the same direction, for the same reason. And if those books sell briskly, you’re going to get more.
I can say that, since I’ve been around, publishing’s been cyclical. The era of the gothic, then the big, sweeping, sexy historical, when category was queen, contemporaries, romantic-suspense, back to historicals, onto chick lit and contemporary—heavy on the comedy. So on. It goes round and round, and the market is glutted until the cycle moves on. Right or wrong, smart or stupid, I don’t know that this will change. I do know it’s only one of the many reason that I, as a writer, have never paid any attention to trends.
I have never heard of a publisher objecting to ARCs being sold well after pub-date. And I can’t imagine any publisher taking anyone off their list if they’d given an ARC away and the giftee then sold it.
My publisher and I’ve discussed the ARC/e-bay problem a number of times, and there’s never been any question that it’s the person who gets one and rushes to slap it up for auction weeks before the publication of the book who’s screwing this system for everyone else.
As for changing the label of Romance—which has carried negative connotations for decades, maybe longer. How? Why? And most of all, never going to happen. I’ve been a Romance writer for 25 years. No matter what I write, I’ll be identified as a Romance writer. I could write a non-fiction book about the dung beetle and the reviews and articles on same (should there be any) would launch with: Romance writer, Nora Roberts, addresses the mysteries and strange politics of the dung beetle.
And that’s okay.
*As for changing the label of Romance—which has carried negative connotations for decades, maybe longer. How? Why? And most of all, never going to happen. *
You’re okay with that, and I’m okay with that, but that’s because we understand the sheer depth and breadth of the romance genre. We know that ‘romance’ doesn’t constitute only 1950s style Harlequin and Mills&Boon or the rape fantasies of the 1970s. However, the fact that people will read anything except ‘romance’, people who love romantic movies would never consider picking up a romantic novel suggests that there’s a labelling problem.
And why not change it? Science Fiction did it a couple of years back, labelling itself as SF instead of Sci-Fi to escape the bespectacled, fluent-in-klingon image. Not that there’s anything wrong with speaking Klingon, but the genre is so much more. Fantasy is doing the same thing, embracing the title Speculative fiction.
Heck, rebranding is the latest craze. KFC is no longer called Kentucky Fried Chicken because of the negative connotations of ‘Fried’. If something as simple as changing the labels in bookstores from Romance to Rom-Fic is going to make a difference, why not?
I agree that the Romance label is problematic, but I’m not sure re-branding solves that. Perhaps I over-estimate readers, but I don’t think that changing the name is going to take away those connotations for those readers who have only been exposed to a limited segment of the market. And while I absolutely agree that those readers who swear off romance books are missing out, I’m not sure there’s anything that will change that other than their taking the plunge. Perhaps it would help if bookstores shelves better reflected the sales for sections. Romance in so many stores seems buried in the back with half the shelves of say biographies.
I recently discovered a signed copy of one of my books for sale on Amazon. Since I’m self-published, it wasn’t technically an ARC, but at this point I’ve only sold/given away signed copies to family and friends. The Amazon seller wouldn’t tell me where he/she got the book, though I suspect I know where it was from. Personally, I’d rather not know if somebody Iknow personally disliked the book so much that they got rid of it—especially if the person they give it to is going to sell it on Amazon for below retail price! That’s painful. (I bought this copy myself. I figure I’ll give it to somebody who deserves it more . . .)