I’m sure you’ve seen the piles of books on the discount tables in bookshops. Perhaps you’ve bought a few dozen copies over the last few years.
Some of these, while they have an author or several listed, just don’t seem like the kind of books a writer might come up with. You know the kind—diet books, coffee table books, health books, travel guides. Well, you’re right. They aren’t.
These types of books most likely resulted from a book package assembled by what’s known as a “book packager.” All are non-fiction and many are part of a series.
So what is a book packager? Instead of a writer coming up with an idea, a third party either creates the idea for a book or gets it from a publisher looking to produce a book on a particular subject to compete with other houses publishing books on the same subject. For instance, ever publisher of travel books wants to have at least one on Mexico, even if duplicates what the competition has on the shelves.
The book packager acts much like a film producer, thinking up the idea, hiring a writer or writers, finding a publisher, and often hiring illustrators, photographers, indexers, cover designers, and the like. In other words, the packager produces the whole package.
Publishers like to work with packagers because the latter does most of the work of producing a book. The publisher also gets exactly what he or she wants and doesn’t have to waste time shopping around.
Sometimes, publishers act as their own packagers, then shop the book package around to agents who find a writer or writers.
So what’s the advantage of working with a book packager? For one thing, you don’t have to go through the agonizing frustration of trying to sell a book idea to a publisher. The idea has already been sold and approved. All you need to do is agree to write it.
But there is a catch. In order to work with book packagers, you have to have been published already—usually a book or two, plus lots of articles—and on in a particular subject area.
Book packagers are business people who look for writers who specialize in a particular subject area. They want a writer who knows a subject well enough and has enough contacts to get right into the project and not have to learn all the basics. They also want a writer who knows how to write a book—someone who has been through the process before. Deadlines for book package projects are notoriously tight—sometimes as little as 10 weeks. There’s no diddling here. Newbies need not apply.
Payment is often work for hire. In other words, you get paid a specified amount for the entire project, paid in three or four installments. This often works out better than if you sent in a book idea, got it approved, and got paid royalties. Most writers never see any additional money beyond their advance. All you have to do is write the book and do a final edit on the galleys. It’s up to the publisher and/or packager to promote the book. Often the publisher doesn’t care how many copies sell as long as he or she maintains a presence on the book store shelf alongside the competition.
If you think you might be interested in giving this a try, you’ll have to make yourself known. That means promoting yourself and your work through whatever means possible. The more well know you are in a particular subject field, the more likely book packagers will come to you.
Showing posts with label contracts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contracts. Show all posts
Friday, July 26, 2013
All Neatly Wrapped Up
Friday, March 22, 2013
Do You Need an Agent?
It’s true, a writer gains a certain amount of prestige by having an agent. But before you go there, you need to pay your dues. And an agent can’t help you with that. It’s all up to you.
An agent is for a writer who is too busy to sell his or her work. And even if you have time to market your writing, an agent can seek out better paying markets for you. But having an agent doesn’t guarantee that you’ll get more money or that you’ll even get published. So if you’re a beginning writer, forget about getting an agent and get to work.
If you’ve been writing and publishing for a while, this may be the time for you to seek out the services of an agent. But do you really know what an agent can do for you?
A good agent knows which publishing houses are in the market for what sort of book or writing project. They know which publisher will pay which advance and whether, when the time comes, which will release which rights. Often an agent will know just who to send a proposal to and which ones are likely to go forward with it.
A good agent also is in constant touch with those who buy ideas, books, movie treatments, scripts for TV shows, and subsidiary rights. To many writers, an agent is also their best friend and professional confidant—part father, part salesman, part lawyer, and part literary critic. But most of all, an agent can lend a sympathetic ear. He or she understands how a writer feels.
Agents save editors time and money. They save them the hassle of going through piles of terrible manuscripts by directing them to the good ones. In essence, an agent acts as the first reader—as a person who has the experience to tell the great from the terrible. And then, of course, there’s the growing tendency for publishers to refuse to read anything that comes in unsolicited. They often give preference to material coming from an agent to manuscripts that come in cold.
Generally, while agents negotiate book contracts and subsidiary rights, they also negotiate lots of other deals for busy writers—deals that the writer may never have thought of. Depending on the arrangement you make, your agent may handle all of your work, only your books, or only certain kinds of writing. Some agents will tell you up front what they will and won’t deal with.
Agents usually don’t handle short pieces of writing like articles and short stories. They’re in it for the big bucks. Let’s face it, after you’d pay an agent his or her 10-15 percent commission, you’d be left with much less than if you sold your shorter pieces yourself.
Your agent can also act to resolve conflicts between you and your publisher. They push for timely advances—they don’t get paid until you do. And, more importantly, they’ll help you sort out hard-to-read book contracts which if not understood properly can cost you dearly.
So do you need an agent? Yes and no. Writers sell nearly a third of all literary works by themselves, without the help of an agent. By negotiating your own contract, you may just walk away with more money and more perks. But that’s only after you’ve been in the business awhile and understand the nuances of contractual agreements. An agent can help you wade through the contractual mindfield. They know what to look for and you don’t.
An agent is for a writer who is too busy to sell his or her work. And even if you have time to market your writing, an agent can seek out better paying markets for you. But having an agent doesn’t guarantee that you’ll get more money or that you’ll even get published. So if you’re a beginning writer, forget about getting an agent and get to work.
If you’ve been writing and publishing for a while, this may be the time for you to seek out the services of an agent. But do you really know what an agent can do for you?
A good agent knows which publishing houses are in the market for what sort of book or writing project. They know which publisher will pay which advance and whether, when the time comes, which will release which rights. Often an agent will know just who to send a proposal to and which ones are likely to go forward with it.
A good agent also is in constant touch with those who buy ideas, books, movie treatments, scripts for TV shows, and subsidiary rights. To many writers, an agent is also their best friend and professional confidant—part father, part salesman, part lawyer, and part literary critic. But most of all, an agent can lend a sympathetic ear. He or she understands how a writer feels.
Agents save editors time and money. They save them the hassle of going through piles of terrible manuscripts by directing them to the good ones. In essence, an agent acts as the first reader—as a person who has the experience to tell the great from the terrible. And then, of course, there’s the growing tendency for publishers to refuse to read anything that comes in unsolicited. They often give preference to material coming from an agent to manuscripts that come in cold.
Generally, while agents negotiate book contracts and subsidiary rights, they also negotiate lots of other deals for busy writers—deals that the writer may never have thought of. Depending on the arrangement you make, your agent may handle all of your work, only your books, or only certain kinds of writing. Some agents will tell you up front what they will and won’t deal with.
Agents usually don’t handle short pieces of writing like articles and short stories. They’re in it for the big bucks. Let’s face it, after you’d pay an agent his or her 10-15 percent commission, you’d be left with much less than if you sold your shorter pieces yourself.
Your agent can also act to resolve conflicts between you and your publisher. They push for timely advances—they don’t get paid until you do. And, more importantly, they’ll help you sort out hard-to-read book contracts which if not understood properly can cost you dearly.
So do you need an agent? Yes and no. Writers sell nearly a third of all literary works by themselves, without the help of an agent. By negotiating your own contract, you may just walk away with more money and more perks. But that’s only after you’ve been in the business awhile and understand the nuances of contractual agreements. An agent can help you wade through the contractual mindfield. They know what to look for and you don’t.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Can You Change a Contract?
Your chance of making a profit from a book or article hedges on the contract you sign for it. Contracts can be as short as a page or as long as 30 pages. Some publishers call them agreements, but they’re contracts, nonetheless. It pays to read them carefully because whatever is included in them is binding for both parties.
Publishers have revised their contracts since the Internet came into prominent use to garner every business advantage. In today’s market, that means electronic sales, among other things. Publishing to their Web sites or publishing your work as an ebook are options they never had before. And with the success of Amazon’s Kindle and Sony’s ebook reader, those options have stepped right out front. This applies both to books and article, but not as much to short stories.
Signing a contract put you into a legal binding agreement . However, it also binds the publisher into the same agreement. Once, a magazine I wrote for sent me contracts for every article. In it was a line about electronic rights. I changed the wording to say I wouldn’t sell them or sometimes, I said I’d sell them for 10-15 percent of the article fee. His editor agreed. The publisher ignored the changes and published them on his Web site anyway. After two years and many articles later, I called him on it, and his lawyer said he basically didn’t have a leg to stand on because he had ignored the original contract changes. The publisher ended up paying me over $400 in back fees.
Another time, a client, who had hired me to write an extensive four-page advertorial for a big-city paper, ignored the phrase in it which said he had only one full edit of the manuscript. This was to prevent him from changing his mind lots of times before publication–a habit of business executives. In the end, he had to pay me 100 percent more because each additional edit cost him $1.00 per word. Again, his lawyer said he didn’t have a leg to stand on.
You can change any of the wording in a contract before you sign it–as long as the publisher agrees. A publisher usually begins with a standard legal contract, then adds whatever details he or she needs for the individual project. A standard contract gives all the monetary and legal advantages to the party who draws it up. In the above examples, these were the magazine publisher and myself. You, as the writer, have the right to change anything in the contract, should you not find it in your best interest.
If this is your first contract with a particular publisher, you don’t have the bargaining power to change much. But as you continue working on projects for that same publisher, your bargaining power increases.
And it isn’t just about your advance, should you be writing a book. Other items that you can change include deadline dates, reversion of rights back to you after publication (used mostly for articles), electronic rights (Web site and ebooks), royalty percentages, subsidiary rights (T.V., film, worldwide rights), and more.
So the next time you receive a contract from a publisher, read it very carefully. In fact, make a copy and underline or highlight sections on the copy that you find questionable. Don’t hesitate to ask for changes. Remember, it’s in your best interest. The publisher already has theirs covered.
Publishers have revised their contracts since the Internet came into prominent use to garner every business advantage. In today’s market, that means electronic sales, among other things. Publishing to their Web sites or publishing your work as an ebook are options they never had before. And with the success of Amazon’s Kindle and Sony’s ebook reader, those options have stepped right out front. This applies both to books and article, but not as much to short stories.
Signing a contract put you into a legal binding agreement . However, it also binds the publisher into the same agreement. Once, a magazine I wrote for sent me contracts for every article. In it was a line about electronic rights. I changed the wording to say I wouldn’t sell them or sometimes, I said I’d sell them for 10-15 percent of the article fee. His editor agreed. The publisher ignored the changes and published them on his Web site anyway. After two years and many articles later, I called him on it, and his lawyer said he basically didn’t have a leg to stand on because he had ignored the original contract changes. The publisher ended up paying me over $400 in back fees.
Another time, a client, who had hired me to write an extensive four-page advertorial for a big-city paper, ignored the phrase in it which said he had only one full edit of the manuscript. This was to prevent him from changing his mind lots of times before publication–a habit of business executives. In the end, he had to pay me 100 percent more because each additional edit cost him $1.00 per word. Again, his lawyer said he didn’t have a leg to stand on.
You can change any of the wording in a contract before you sign it–as long as the publisher agrees. A publisher usually begins with a standard legal contract, then adds whatever details he or she needs for the individual project. A standard contract gives all the monetary and legal advantages to the party who draws it up. In the above examples, these were the magazine publisher and myself. You, as the writer, have the right to change anything in the contract, should you not find it in your best interest.
If this is your first contract with a particular publisher, you don’t have the bargaining power to change much. But as you continue working on projects for that same publisher, your bargaining power increases.
And it isn’t just about your advance, should you be writing a book. Other items that you can change include deadline dates, reversion of rights back to you after publication (used mostly for articles), electronic rights (Web site and ebooks), royalty percentages, subsidiary rights (T.V., film, worldwide rights), and more.
So the next time you receive a contract from a publisher, read it very carefully. In fact, make a copy and underline or highlight sections on the copy that you find questionable. Don’t hesitate to ask for changes. Remember, it’s in your best interest. The publisher already has theirs covered.
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