Lately, I've only had time to read the local paper, which is the largest in the state of Oregon, the Oregonian. Every Sunday, when I get to the book section, I get steamed. Somewhere some learned "reporter" is pontificating on the state of publishing -- and getting it wrong.⁽¹⁾

This Sunday's offering, which I read before I had even finished breakfast, came from a column called "Writing in the Rain." The author, Ellen Emry Heltzel, writes about writing and writers every week. Books and book people are her niche. Yet, as I read, I realized she knew very little about what she's writing about.

Let me give you an example. She interviewed a local writer, whose second novel is getting some push. His first novel, a mainstream paperback, was published in 1987. She writes:

[His book] sold a respectable 15,000 copies. Even though the influential Sunday New York Times Book Review trashed it, 46 other publications reviewed it, too, and [he] recalls that maybe a third gave him a thumbs up.

A mixed reception, perhaps, but not a bad beginning.

Then, surprisingly, [he] dropped off the map.⁽²⁾

What's wrong with this excerpt? Several things. First, in the corporate publishing environment of the last ten years, paperback sales of 15,000 copies is not respectable. For a mainstream novel, reviewed in 46 places, it is even worse. While this author got a lot of press, most of it (two-thirds) was bad. He couldn't claim critical or commercial success -- and not surprisingly, he dropped off the map.⁽³⁾

How is all of this relevant to the readers of this magazine? Why should you folks care about a column in a paper whose circulation is smaller than the population of some cities, a column you, in all probability, have never read?

Because Ellen Emry Heltzel's column, mistake-ridden as it is, made me realize something. Most readers known nothing about book publishing. Not even people who should know, people who specialize in the industry, understand how mass market publishing works. They don't understand the role of editor, agent, and publisher. They don't know how much (if any) clout they have as readers. And most of all, they don't understand how market forces affect the books they see on the stands.

Do they need to? I think so, and here's why.

How many times have you read books one and two of a trilogy, and have never been able to find book three? How many times has someone recommeded a book to you, and when you finally get around to looking for that book the only place that carries it is the local used bookstore? How many of your favorite authors have just disappeared? Why don't your favorite short story writers have more novels in print? Why is the hard science fiction novel dying on the stands? Why are there so many fantasy novels? And what happened to the horror boom of a few years ago? How come there are so many legal thrillers these days, and why does every suspense novel come fully equipped with a serial killer?

If you answered any of those questions with "because nobody cares" or "because publishing's all run by big business these days" or "because no one can write any more," you're wrong.

People in publishing care a great deal about their profession. I have yet to meet an editor who is in this business for the money. Publishers watch the bottom line because that's their job, but every publisher I've met loves books and reading as much as or more than I do.

Big business does have its hand in publishing, and that has caused a lot of changes. A few changes were good. Most are bad. This industry, which once ran on a handshake, does no longer. And that makes it hard for the naïve writer, the one who is in the arts because he hates the business world. It has also had some serious effects on readers.

And a lot of people can write, and write well. Not all of these people are being published -- nor should they be. Writing is not about crafting pretty sentences. It is about storytelling.

So in the next few editorials, I'm going to disucss the book business and how it affects the readers. I will focus on commercial publishing in general, the science fiction/fantasy/horror genre in particular. I will explain sales figures, million dollar advances, and the role of the reviewer. Along the way we will glimpse how careers are made, how they're broken, and how they can be resurrected.

For those of you who think this will be as dry as your Econ 101 class in college, let me assure you that along the way, we will cover scandals and heartbreaks. I am very passionate about this field. I live it, as both writer and editor. I teach classes in it, and I stir things up occasionally in my role as non-fiction gadfly.

And these editorials have an ulterior motive. First, of course, I want to teach. Secondly, I want to bring some of the publishing practices out of the darkness and hold them up to the light. Finally -- and most importantly -- I want to empower you as readers. I want to make you informed consumers.

So, as this short series goes along, send me your quesitons, your frustrations and your hopes. I'll try to answer as many of them as I can within these few pages.

I guess my Sunday morning habit has revived the journalist in me. I learned, in a hot crowded newsroom many years ago, that getting angry never helps.

Getting angry and writing about it, though, can sometimes make a difference.

2. The Sunday Oregonian, March 10, 1996.

3. Ironically, she didn't understand his comeback either. This author's second novel is a vampire novel set in L.A. -- two hotter trends in publishing which he managed to hit at exactly the right time. Whether this book is going to be a commercial or critical success remains to be seen.

Next week's columnist is Jack Chalker.