[Disclaimer:
As a Kindle Scout “loser” my opinions
are without question a tad subjective, although I've sensed a
familiar air of disenchantment among fellow scriveners.]
Business
genius Jeff Bezos has been a godsend to bookselling, no matter how
eloquent the grumbling oldtimers with their tales of good times past
or snarky the ho hum youngsters with “better” ideas in mind.
Amazon's
publishing arm has opened the door for hordes of new authors to
market their words worldwide with little or no money down and no
hands in the middle grabbing a piece of the profits.
One
of the more interesting of its innovations is the digital slush pile.
In a handful of minutes, without so much as the cost of postage, an
unknown author can upload a future bestseller over Amazon's
electronic transom for a chance at being read by a real editor,
hopefully one with literary chops
as well as
marketing savvy.
There
have been two versions of this slush pile. The first, called Amazon
Breakthrough Novel Award, lasted seven years until Kindle Scout
succeeded it a year ago. I've flunked out of both. Each, as I saw
them, had merits and disadvantages.
ABNA,
as we contenders called it, was an annual affair in which authors
could enter novels they'd already published. There were four rounds.
Elimination in Round 1, based solely on the novel's “pitch”, was
the equivalent of having your traditionally slush piled manuscript
rejected because its envelope smelled funny or was addressed to
“Editer.” Entries were weeded out through subsequent rounds based
on excerpts from the actual novels. At one point Amazon customers
were invited to vote on the excerpts. The entry that remained
standing after months of secret weeding and winnowing won a
publishing contract with a significant cash advance.
Kindle
Scout starts right out with the customers, who are invited to vote
for contenders from those whose covers, pitches and excerpts are
posted on the site. Voters are told they will win a free download of
whichever three books they “nominate” should Amazon choose them
to publish as ebooks. An advantage Kindle Scout has over ABNA is that
it's year-round. Entries stay on the site for 30 days of voting. I
had been gearing up to enter ABNA for a second try when I learned it
was ending, so I jumped right into the new slush pile. Amazon touted
it as “reader-powered publishing.” Media sites called it
“crowdsourced publishing.” Aha, thought I, having attained a
certain comfort level with social media.
Near
to wore my fingers out tapping the keyboard emailing friends, the
rels, and acquaintances, working Facebook and Twitter. My entry
quickly gained a sparkling “hot and trending” button. Heartbeat
quickened. I kept the pressure on, possibly losing friends along the
way. I checked the site first thing every morning. A couple of
mornings, to my horror, the “hot and trending” button was gone. I
dug deep and came up with more acquaintances to risk losing. Out went
the emails. The gleaming button came back, then a day or so later it
left again, then back after more Twittering and Facebook begging. The
last several days of my 30-day stretch the magic button stayed gone
no matter how desperately clever my social huckstering. That's when
the skeptical seeds sprouted.
slush pile |
Changes
have since been made. A recent look at the Kindle
Scout site
explains that now “authors” can “get visibility into the
performance of [their campaigns] on a daily basis with stats such as
total hours spent visible on our Hot & Trending list, page views,
[and] external traffic sources.”
Would
I do it again? I don't know. For sure not with my newly finished
latest novel. It's too soon. I'd risk losing more friends were I to
start bombarding them all over again. Besides, I've also learned that
being “hot and trending” isn't all it seemed cracked up to be. We
(me and my novel) could have had the gleaming button all the way
through the 30-day campaign and still been rejected. There are no
guarantees. It's in the fine print I must have missed last time,
distracted, I suppose, by the “reader-powered” implications of
the up-front come-on. Amazon's secret deciders have their own
criteria, guided, they insist, by the “reader-powered” input, but
also most assuredly by secret algorithmically interpreted reader
trends.
Or
was it my cover?
I
learned only recently that although of course a book must never
be judged by its cover, without a “stellar” cover it just might
not get judged at all. I'm well aware of the magnetic attraction
artistic graphics can have on a soul. How a really fine,
professionally designed book cover coos to be ogled, touched,
sniffed, and ultimately flipped open and then closed and flipped back
open, back and forth, admired again and again and again. I know also
covers of this quality do not come cheap. Nor should they. I've spent
over a hundred bucks for a halfway decent cover, and I've designed my
own. I kinda like the ones I've done myself, despite sensing they are
pathetic compared with those in the stellar class. The question I'm
inching toward here is this: should a book's cover be part of the
submission process? Are not dedicated editors more immune to bells
and whistles than the average customer? Shouldn't covers be done by a
publisher's marketing department? I can see where a stellar cover can
help garner votes in a Kindle Scout campaign, but if “reader-powered”
nominations can mean only a tad more than diddly squat in the final
count, then what the hey?
Amazon
has proven abundantly it can throw its behemoth weight around in the
publishing game, move product, get the clicks. It seems to me Bezos's
marketing empire is now ready to take the next step, into a truly
rarified atmosphere. Were I Bezos I might find it the perfect
challenge to grab for Amazon a cachet of the same exaltation as the
major national newspaper I owned. I can even see myself feet up on
Ben Bradlee's old desk scaring hell out of politicians, manipulating
worldly power issues, and now having authors my own people discovered
and groomed copping national book awards. Hell, the Nobel! Authors
praised or even ridiculed by Michiko Kakutani, lauded on NPR by
Maureen Corrigan, and scheduling interviews with Charlie Rose.
What
must I do then to jumpstart this dream of literary legitimacy? Not
much, really. I'd start by banishing stellar covers from Kindle Scout
campaigns. This would give talented destitute writers an even chance.
Plain generic cover templates would represent each title on the
gaming site. I'd have to pay a pretty penny to have premium editors
evaluate the entries, but whatever the cost to get Max Perkins-level
insight would be chump change--I'm Jeff Bezos, remember, and true
merit is what I seek. And when my eminent editors found those gems
all agents and editors in publishing swear they're looking for, I'd
sign the authors to competitive contracts, and promote their books in
all the right places.
Turn
that slush pile into a mine of diamonds.
Hmmm,I read all of this Matt and learned a lot. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteI wish I'd have read it before I entered First Shot in Kindle Scout and bugged all of youse guys to no avail. I just got back from #kindlescout reading the begging by current hopefuls. It was embarrassing.
ReplyDelete