Earlier this week Kindle Press released Ant Farm into the electronic publishing world. To celebrate I held
a virtual release party—a new experience for me. Unlike the physical release
party I held for the publication of Bad
Policy two years ago, this cost considerably less (the prizes were real,
but the food was virtual and Facebook charged nothing for the “room” in which
we held our conversations).
Also different: I sold no books during those two
hours—although one ebook sold on Amazon shortly after we ended.
For traditionally published authors, presales and first
week/month sales are absolutely crucial. Physical shelf space is a scarce
commodity (scarcer as bookstores use more of their square footage for nonbook merchandise,
coffee bars, and the like).
Only so many books can be featured in high sales
locations (new releases, the bookstore’s staff “picks” on a table shoppers must
pass). Make a big splash and your book continues to command prime store real
estate. Make a moderate splash, and your book remains on the shelves. Not
enough of a splash to scare a goldfish and your books are returned to sender,
with negative consequences for future book sales by the same author.
This traditional approach is all about the head of the sales
beast—the big rush at the beginning—and very little about the tail of the
distribution.
Kindle Press with the Kindle Scout program takes a different
approach: it gives away the head. [Skip the rest of this paragraph if you
already know how the Kindle Scout nomination process works.] As part of how Kindle
Press determines which books to publish in electronic format, each book is
presented to the public for thirty days for people to nominate. If someone
nominates a book that Kindle Press selects, then when the ebook is available
for pre-sale, that person will get a free Kindle version of the book, with the
expressed hope they will leave a review.
These free copies of the Kindle book are a significant
portion of what would have been the distribution beast’s head. Given the
extensive campaign I undertook to make people aware of the Kindle Scout
nomination process for Ant Farm,
there are very few people I know who read electronically who will not already
be receiving a free book. No one who came to the virtual release party needed
to buy Ant Farm; they already had it.
For someone like me with a small following (although loyal,
thank you readers), the only way Kindle Press will recoup its upfront costs is
through their marketing of Ant Farm.
Not that I can’t and won’t continue to promote the book, but the choir to which
I can preach already know the hymn. It is up to Kindle Press to find new
churches in which to sing Ant Farm’s
praises.
Picture traditional publishing as a controlled flood (an
oxymoron?) They hold back a reservoir of books until publication date, open the
sluice gates, and in a massive rush the books pour out, hopefully to be purchased
by the buying public. If not, then the detritus from the flood is cleared away
in bargain bins, sold to remainder operations, or recycled.
Consider the Kindle Press experiment as akin to a leaky faucet.
It steadily drip—drip—drips its way to success. Oh sure, from time to time
someone opens the faucet and lets it run wide open for a while, but even when
that gush of promotion turns off, we still hear the steady drip, drip, drip as
a book here, a book there finds its way electronically onto someone’s reading
device.
Some of the Kindle Press books have taken off from the start—the
faucet is wide open. Many of the romances have done particularly well, rising
into the top 1,000 ranking of Kindle books sold, meaning many people are buying
the books daily. Others books, started with the drips, but with a blast of
Amazon attention suddenly sell a bunch before returning to the drips as the
promotion ends.
The Kindle Press advance is $1,500. They also have their time
and money invested in each book (editing, layout, overhead, etc.) Let’s say
that’s another $1,500 (they won’t say). Since royalties are mostly at the 50%
rate, it takes selling roughly 1,000 books to cover the advance and the
estimated internal costs. (It varies based on the book price, but Kindle books
have been initially priced between $2.99 and $3.99, with the average currently
at $3.45). Recently a number of the Kindle Press books entered a month-long
$2.00 promotion and sales for those books increased significantly, but at a
smaller profit.
The Kindle Press contract locks authors in for two years. To
cover the $3,000 initial outlay they need to average selling a bit less than
one and a half books a day. Drip, drip, drip. To continue to control the book
for the next three years means Kindle Press needs to generate royalties of at
least $500 a year. A book a day will accomplish that. Drip, drip, drip.
After five years the author can exit the contract if Kindle
Press has not paid at least $25,000 in royalties. I predict many books will not
reach that payout. Regardless, let’s assume all a book accomplishes is to make
enough sales to keep the author in the contract for the five years. That will be
a minimum of 2,000 sales over the five years.
Rounding liberally, that means that book has gross sales of
$7,000. Royalties are a something over $3,000 (reflecting transaction fees);
gross income is the same $3,000. Profit is $1,500, or 100% after 5 years. Not a
bad return on investment. And remember, that’s on a drip, drip, drip of sales—just
slightly more than one a day. When one of the Kindle Press books has the faucet
wide open, the profit margins for Amazon are quite high.
It is easy to understand why Amazon would like the premise
behind Kindle Press. What about an author’s perspective?
I have a series. People who read my books like them (average
reader ratings are well over 4 out of 5), but not enough people know of the
books because most people don’t like them so well that they buy them for other
people or insist that their libraries stock them. In what I consider a worst-case
scenario, if Amazon only sells 2,000 books – those are 2,000 new readers
(remember my old readers received the book for free). Some percentage of these folks
will buy other books in the series. That means the distribution of my sales tail
is even fatter than Amazon’s!
And if Amazon works magic and Ant Farm becomes a big seller, it’s all to our mutual benefit. What
that means is I am not stressing out that as I write this Ant Farm’s ranking is just around 100,000, It’s only day three of a
very long tail, and I am planning on enjoying the ride.
Oh yes, if you would like to add to my drip, drip, drip,
here’s a purchase
link for Ant Farm.






