By Candice Blodgett
Publishers were facing a challenge with a newer, cheaper publication option. Should we dip our toe in the waters, only risking something we’re willing to lose? Should we dive in, with the faith that ‘if we build it, they (readers) will come’? Can’t we lose a lot of money, offering up the best of what we’ve got to offer, if they don’t come, or – if they do come – if they don’t stay? We’ll be lucky if we make money. This is going to ruin business. Those new guys and their new format are why we can’t have nice things. They’re going to make us all look bad.
Does any of this sound familiar? It should. It’s old news, though perhaps much older than you were expecting. This is a tale from World War II. The new kids on the block then were paperbacks. The big risk the American publishers took? Armed Services Editions – a *gasp* disposable magazine format that could be made cheaply – printed not only of the lighter themes and reads (westerns, mysteries, sex) they expected soldiers would want but also of their premium literary content and new compilations specifically for the format.
What happened? The publishers dove in to those waters, head first. They essentially gave away (selling ASE books to the military for six cents is a far cry from $2 hardcovers after all) over one hundred million books. It was well worth the risk. The soldiers read and, more importantly, they kept reading. The fears that no one would ever pay (or pay more) for books after being exposed to cheap as free reading were unfounded. By taking that risk, they grew the market. There were more, and more diverse, readers as well as more diverse genres of reading available in more formats. They “cooperated in an experiment that…(made) us a nation of book readers”.
It’s said that those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I think, this time, the doom lies in not repeating history. American publishers took what they thought was a massive risk, but it was their willingness to take risks, adapt their models and visions of business, and make innovative (if nerve-wracking at the time) decisions that not only saved their industry but let it flourish.
Come on in, the water’s fine.
Publishers were facing a challenge with a newer, cheaper publication option. Should we dip our toe in the waters, only risking something we’re willing to lose? Should we dive in, with the faith that ‘if we build it, they (readers) will come’? Can’t we lose a lot of money, offering up the best of what we’ve got to offer, if they don’t come, or – if they do come – if they don’t stay? We’ll be lucky if we make money. This is going to ruin business. Those new guys and their new format are why we can’t have nice things. They’re going to make us all look bad.
Does any of this sound familiar? It should. It’s old news, though perhaps much older than you were expecting. This is a tale from World War II. The new kids on the block then were paperbacks. The big risk the American publishers took? Armed Services Editions – a *gasp* disposable magazine format that could be made cheaply – printed not only of the lighter themes and reads (westerns, mysteries, sex) they expected soldiers would want but also of their premium literary content and new compilations specifically for the format.
What happened? The publishers dove in to those waters, head first. They essentially gave away (selling ASE books to the military for six cents is a far cry from $2 hardcovers after all) over one hundred million books. It was well worth the risk. The soldiers read and, more importantly, they kept reading. The fears that no one would ever pay (or pay more) for books after being exposed to cheap as free reading were unfounded. By taking that risk, they grew the market. There were more, and more diverse, readers as well as more diverse genres of reading available in more formats. They “cooperated in an experiment that…(made) us a nation of book readers”.
It’s said that those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I think, this time, the doom lies in not repeating history. American publishers took what they thought was a massive risk, but it was their willingness to take risks, adapt their models and visions of business, and make innovative (if nerve-wracking at the time) decisions that not only saved their industry but let it flourish.
Come on in, the water’s fine.