The ballad of Molly McGhee
I’ve complained often enough in these emails about the shabby treatment experienced by too many writers at the hands of agents and publishers. And I’m right to complain.
If an agency allows writers to submit via the slushpile, as they nearly all do, that agency has an obligation to treat those writers with some basic courtesy. If a publisher takes on a book, they have a duty of basic professionalism in the way they handle it and the author.
But this email has a different theme.
The fact is that publishing is a tough trade. Hours are very long. Pay is modest. Advancement is slow. Bright graduates entering the profession will find themselves falling behind their peers in countless other fields. You get the kudos of working in a cultural industry. You also get the flipside, the crappy pay and conditions.
All this is widely known. It’s the theme tune playing gently behind every other discussion you hear in publishing.
Why, authors ask, are publishers not more active in marketing their books? The sotto voce answer: everyone works too hard as it is; most books don’t repay any real marketing effort; no one has time or money or energy.
Why, authors ask, are advances mingy and possibly falling? Why has the option of self-publishing not forced publishers towards a more equitable share of e-book royalties? The sotto voce answer: everyone works too hard as it is; there’s not enough money to go round; we can’t pay authors more because we don’t even pay ourselves enough.
Why, authors ask, do big publishers feel so conservative, so safe in their selections? Where’s the radical, risk-taking creativity that ought to be the lifeblood of the industry? The sotto voce answer: everyone works too hard as it is; most novels don’t make money anyway; small print runs are loss-making; everyone wants to be risk-taking, but we’ve got to look after the profit and loss.
Every now and then, however, these sotto voce conversations burst into the open. They did so recently where, as it happened, four American editors announced their resignations more or less simultaneously. The four were Hillary Sames and Angeline Rodriguez at Little Brown/Orbit, Erin Siu at Macmillan Children’s, and Molly McGhee at Macmillan/Tor.
The match that lit the fire was McGhee’s commentary around her resignation, which she posted on Twitter. She wrote:
Today is my last day at Tor Books. My promotion request was denied and as such I am leaving as my first acquisition … debuts at number three on the NYT Bestsellers list … this should be a “great beginning” not a heartbreaking end.
But it has been made clear to me that I would need more “training” before being promoted from an assistant position and that it would be unrealistic for me to leave the admin duties of assisting any time in the next five years. After eight years of experience working in the publishing industry, I decided ten years of assisting would be my limit, let alone fifteen.
She went on to identify the technophobia of more senior staff as a big part of the problem – so assistants were expected to handle the tech cores that their seniors couldn’t handle.
Neither McGhee nor the others criticised their firms or their imprints in particular. On the contrary, the wider discussion around the issue recognised that these issues were industry-wide.
I’m on McGhee’s side here. Fifteen years as an assistant? Ten even? I’d never have done that, not in any industry, and not for any money. At Jericho Writers, we wouldn’t dream of imposing that kind of eternal serfdom on our juniors. People want a sense of flourishing, of expanding, of creative possibility. And so they should; you only live once.
It’s common for more senior publishers to sigh wisely and admit, yes, theirs is an industry where money is always tight and margins low. But that’s not actually true. Publishers have been boasting record profits. Penguin Random House has an operating margin approaching 20%. That’s an astonishingly fat margin for a mature industry with no meaningful barriers to entry. Truth is, that margin is suggestive of oligopoly, not competition. Walmart has a margin of under 5%. Amazon Retail has a margin of around 2%, and its international retail business, until recently, was lossmaking.
So in a way, those sotto voce conversations are missing the truth. Here’s a slightly more accurate version of one of them:
Why, authors ask, are publishers not more active in marketing their books? The sotto voce answer: We make a lot of money; we want to go on making a lot of money; our business model is to recruit smart people, pay them badly, work them hard, and keep them in junior roles too long; along the way that forces a lot of compromises – on marketing and lord knows what else – but we’re going to continue to operate like that, because our shareholders really, really like their dividends and we’d absolutely hate to disappoint them.
So yes, Molly McGhee, good for you. The only way pay and conditions will change in publishing is if enough people protest or quit or insist on change. I don’t actually see that happening, but sometimes you just have to take a stand, no matter what.
And for authors: is there a takeaway in this? Is there some actually useful purpose to this email?
Well, yes, I think there is. When you deal with the industry, you need to know that pretty much everyone you deal with is overworked and underpaid.
So reduce their burden, don’t add to it.
Make sure the draft manuscript you submit is in spanking good shape. If you have thoughts on cover design, put those together in a professional one-pager that your editor could simply forward to their cover designer. If you have an important meeting, send out an email summary of points from that meeting, because no one else is likely to do so. If you don’t like the way your ebook is being set up, then offer your thoughts in the kind of email that can just be approved and actioned. If you meet a bunch of people at some industry conference, then take notes on who you’ve met and send nice-to-meet-you emails to anyone significant.
Honestly, there’s a limit to how much difference you can make by being a hyper-businesslike author, but it’s still better to be that than the opposite. Quite apart from anything else, it creates goodwill amongst your publishing team and that goodwill is always valuable.
That’s it from me. I will find a merrier subject next week, you just see if I don’t.
So reduce their burden, don’t add to it.
Thanks Harry – some good suggestions here. Did you forget strange (and excessive) advances? I was wondering how a political memoir earns a 6-7 figure advance, are political memoirs profitable? Do they sell in the hundreds of thousands/millions?
Yes, I’m sure some do… if it’s a political memoir on say, Putin?
But not Bojo, I’m afraid. Dejà vu… dejà entendu…
While we’re having a Big Whinge (because we are, aren’t we?) can I add a spot of (very polite and reasonable) rage against agencies that say they aren’t going to bother to reply to your submission, so after 3 months assume its a no? BLOODY CHEEK – I do all the work of writing a book and sending it in, and you can’t even be bothered to hit a button and send me a form rejection? Is it any wonder many of us are voting with our feet and heading down the self-publishing route? Ahem, sorry about that, rant over. Thanks Harry, another cracker as always.
“…and you can’t even be bothered to hit a button and send me a form rejection?”
That may be because they are very busy reading through all the 150 submissions or more… they receive on average each week. Since the lockdowns that number is said to have gone up by 50% – that means 200 per week at least.
So… if they spend on averege 10 minutes reading & sending a reply to each submission, they’ll need over 33 hours a week just to do that, with around 7 hours left per week for all the other work that needs to be done in a business, suposing a full-time 40 hour week british employment contract.
I organize a sports group which has now over 200 members and it takes me a few hours when I need to send personalized individual messages to all of them. The system we use doesn’t allow me to send group messages. It’s just a cut & paste & send job, repeated 200+ times, still it takes many hours. Try it and see.
Dear Harry, the info you used in this Friday email is 14 days old. Molly posted it on her Twitter on March 11. Molly might have left Tor, but she is a fiction writer, represented by a respected agency and a graduate of Columbia University with an MFA in fiction. Yes, we all know that the publishing industry would work better if reformed. Please, can you be less whiny and more productive in your comments next time because writing a novel is hard and unrewarding as it is, and maybe we writers need a tad of encouragement and good news?
Wow. Nice whine Mariana. They just pile up, don’t they? I didn’t know about Molly’s complaint, so I was interested to read about it and wondered if assistants who are chaps waited around so long for opportunities. I was hoping for a ballad though, or a medieval French chanson balladée, complete with a You Tube video of Harry dancing to the sad verses of Molly, That’s my whinge.
Well that has put a damper on everything. Off for a bourbon and a takeaway now. I guess it’s much like many other things. Most everyone wants to do something of value. While we might not be able to directly improve the wages or prospects of the people we deal with (a hard working waiter, a cleaner, a carer or someone who works in publishing), we can do something about how we interact with them. Being nice, polite and appreciative of help costs us nothing. I wish you the very best of luck Molly. After all, if you don’t manage your career, someone else will do it for you.
To cheer us up, I’ve got this quote from some dude in-the-know:
For the first time in the history of human civilization, there are now more writers than readers.
The situation may improve if we all stop writing and start reading, no?
But I am reading — generally two books on the go at any one time 💖 💖
I’ve always got a lot of books “on the go” because (unfortunately) I’m better at starting them than finishing then. I love to read the first pages, just to get a taste of the narrative.
If the book catches my attention, I’ll read through, from first sentence to last, ignoring all the other books already started, and I’ll finish it in a couple of days. If not… they go on the stock pile or on the charity shop pile, depending on the level of my interest.
I think we live in a time of mass distraction. Our attention span is fragmented, constantly on call from so many different angles, including the Big Black Hole… the internet… of course!
I used to read a lot more prior to the internet. Glad I did. Reading well is the first lesson for writing well.
And since printed books last a very long time (I still have some that are now over 50 years old) and can be read by a lot of different people, there is no shortage of books to read, with new ones being launched every single day, adding to the pile…
How many more new readers would be needed for each new writer to have a slim chance of being read? I think we need an algorithm.
Me too, but I love moving between reading and writing. And I think it helps; it is just impossible to concentrate on your story at time, and then a lot of reading is therapeutic. Like Donna I often give up on books, but when I don’t I’m inclined to get more in the series.
Insightful as always Harry, thank you! Have you ever thought of changing Jericho Writers into Jericho Publishers?