He’d just finished reading it, and had the following to say:

“Starving the Artist makes a compelling case why songwriters deserve to be compensated for their creations.  Aicher exposes the illogical nature of those who try to justify the theft of music.  Everyone who loves music should read this book.”

So there you have it, if you love music, buy my book.

To help spur this trading/sharing, he’s offering a zip file containing multiple formats of the e-book on his site. He’s also encouraging those who download the file to upload it to all the file sharing sites they use and distribute it in any way possible (or, if they prefer, not distribute it at all).  Basically he’s giving permission for people to steal his book so he can see if it really hurts sales.

The problem with this experiment however, is that it’s really nothing more than a marketing tactic. By giving permission for people to share this book he’s not, in any way. embracing piracy, but rather he’s embracing alternative distribution channels.  Copyright law grants the copyright holder or administrator the right to determine the price and distribution allowed for any work owned/administered, so obviously if he’s telling people to trade the file and download it without payment, that’s his right to do as the copyright holder. All he’s done is lowered the price of this book to zero for the duration of his experiment.  (If this non-price will continue to be enforced once the thirty days are up, and if so, whether he decides to do anything about it are unknown.)

This is the point I’ve been trying to make (and my core argument in Starving the Artist): a creator absolutely should have the right to determine the price and distribution of his or her creation.  If someone wants to give away their work, that’s up to them.  In this instance, however, Konrath is not telling people to download all of his books in eternity for free – nor is he encouraging the more explicit pirates to actually print up copies of his book in printed format and sell them on their own (with no portion of sales going to Konrath).

What this “experiment” is is really nothing more than a version of the “free sample.”

Think of it this way: Let’s say you’re at the grocery store and they are giving out samples of a potato salad they’re trying to sell.  They have little paper cups filled with the potato salad, complete with little plastic spoons for you to eat it.  The goal is to get people to try it out and, provided the potato salad is any good, a percentage of those people sampling it decide to buy a pound for their barbecue.  For extra bonus points some of them even come back next week and buy it again (and the week after that, and the week after that).

Konrath’s experiment is really nothing different.  The blog post promoting this endeavor states, “JA Konrath, known for the Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels thrillers set in Chicago, offers this collection of short stories and novellas from the Jack Daniels universe.”  So what Konrath is doing here is offering one part of a larger whole of product.  In this case, his product is the Jack Daniels thriller brand. In fact, for this experiment it’s actually a sampler of samples, since the book being promoted is a series of short stories.  The point is, if someone downloads this collection and likes it, Konrath wants people to want to read more (and this time, pay for them).

Again, this is just simple marketing: offer part of a whole for free so people can decide if they like it or not, then encourage them to buy either the whole thing or your other, related products. Konrath’s positioning this as “testing if piracy is harmful” is really just semantics – it’s not piracy if he’s allowing it.  What’s more, by engaging in this promotion and all the press it has received (like the article you’re reading, or the one on Techdirt), is this anything more than a stunt to get those who don’t know about him to find out?  Or maybe even to encourage pirates to buy from him to strengthen their argument that piracy doesn’t hurt sales?

So, Joe, this is where my questions come in.  I’ll be interested to see the answers once they’re available.

1. What percentage of people downloading your book for free read it?
2. What percentage of increased sales are due simply to the extra press you’re receiving from this promotion?
3. What percentage of people who downloaded your free book paid for another one?
4. What percentage of people who downloaded your free book decided that, since you set your price at zero, the rest of your books were worth zero as well?
5. By pricing your book at zero, have you decided that your work is really worth nothing – and everything above that price point is gratuitous?

Here are my final thoughts:

It’s great to use free wisely; it’s an extraordinarily powerful tool. But by doing so, do we diminish the perceived value of other creative works?

When you give someone permission to take your work, you’re not encouraging piracy. Instead you’re giving away your work. The motives for doing so are yours alone.

The full title of the book is Starving the Artist: How the Internet Culture of “Free” Threatens to Exterminate the Creative Class and What Can Be Done to Save It.  It’s not a book about copyright law or an argument that “free is evil” – instead it’s a discussion of our current state of how we value other people’s work and creations, and how it should not be up to us as consumers to decide whether or not we want to pay what the creator is asking (if they are asking for anything at all). In some ways it’s a response to Chris Anderson’s Free: The Future of a Radical Price and tangential to Andrew Keen’s The Cult of the Amateur.

With the massive amount of creations available to us through the new distribution channel of the Internet, as well as the greatly reduced costs of creation, we are at a point where we can very easily find enough media to fill our time, made available free of charge by their creators.  The fact remains, however, that many creators would like to be compensated for their work – whether monetarily or in other ways.  But above all, creators deserve our respect for what they’ve done. If you want something, but aren’t willing to pay for it (in whatever manner and at whatever price it is offered), then there are plenty of other alternative options instead of that specific product.

The fact that a creator has made something that you want means it has value to you.  Otherwise you wouldn’t want it.  To take something that’s not yours, without permission, however, is stealing – and is a blatant act of self-serving narcissism in which the one taking feels they are entitled to something that they, in fact, are not. If one wants to steal, that is up to that individual – but in my moral framework, stealing is wrong …

Here’s the full description of the book:

For a lot of people, creation is their livelihood. For others, it’s where their livelihood ought to be. As Richard Florida wrote in his 2004 book, The Rise of the Creative Class, “Stimulating and glamorous as it may sometimes be, creativity is in fact work…The creative ethos is built on discipline and focus, sweat and blood.” All music, art, movies, writings and games were brought into being by their creators – and for these creators to have created them, there was some underlying motivation to do so. Without their creators and their motivations, creative works simply would not be.

Why then, in today’s Internet culture, is all creative work expected to be free?
Why is it that some individuals feel it is their right to take things that do not belong to them, without receiving any permission to do so?
Why, in the Internet culture of “free,” are those creations we enjoy and value most the ones that we are most likely to simply take?

This is not a book about copyright, nor is it a book about the evils of free.

This is a book about right and wrong.
This is a book about respect.
This is a book about the value of creative work.

This is a book for the creators. May you keep on creating.

If you’d like to read more on this topic, I’d love it if you picked up a copy of my book or read it on Kindle.

The official launch date will be announced soon, but in the meantime you can keep up with news about the book and other copyright / creator rights news at the book’s new official Facebook fan page.

Starving the Artist: Chapter One

Here’s a snippet of the current work-in-progress.

For a lot of people, creation is their livelihood. For others, it’s where their livelihood should be. I may be modest at times, but I know I’m no Picasso. For people like him, there obviously was a motivation to create – but there was also a cost. In his lifetime, Picasso created an estimated 50,000 individual works. If nothing else, that’s a lot of paint, paper and time.

Still, the obvious question here is “What if Picasso had not been able to create as his profession?” Of course there is no way he’d have created 50,000 works – there simply isn’t enough time in one’s life to do something like that as a hobby. Or, if somehow he could have still produced as many works, it is highly unlikely he would have had the drive to do so, much less perfect his craft to the level which he did.

In the time before creators were easily able to share their works directly with the public (before the printing press, the phonograph or the Internet), much of the work was commissioned by church of government. Works of art we consider core elements of our culture would not have existed had it not been for these commissions. Some works took years to complete, such as Michelangelo’s painting of The Creation of Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel which took four full years of Michelangelo’s time.

What is even more telling with this example, however, is that Michelangelo himself resented the commission for this work, believing it only served the Pope’s need for grandeur. So, in actuality, had it not been for the commission and promise of payment, The Creation of Adam would never have existed in the first place.

Of course, not all creators benefit financially from their work. In fact, many never expect to. This does not mean, however, they never desire to. With today’s technology it is much easier to acquire the tools to create, and much easier to distribute the creation once complete. The larger issue, and one that is oftentimes forgotten, is that these only make up the material costs of creation. As I’ve already mentioned, to create requires some sort of incentive to do so – and this is true for the most part because creating a work does not come without cost to the creator.

In Chris Anderson’s book, Free he says, “But some others have simply accepted that, for them, music is not a moneymaking business. It’s something they do for other reasons, from fun to creative expression. Which, of course, has always been true for most musicians anyway.”

Assumptions like this are at the core of what has been happening to reduce the value of music and other creations, which in turn has reduced the perception that being a creator of any sort is a viable career path. Having worked in the music industry for over a decade now, I can without a doubt say that the majority of musicians do so for some sort of future payment in mind. For many musicians, obviously this desire to be paid for their work does not come to fruition. There is only room for so many hits in the world. The fact remains, however, that the act of creation is not a selfless one. Whether it be for the hope of playing a gig, getting recognition from fans, getting signed to a label, being heard on the radio, or simply the hopes of using your music chops as a way to get “closer” to the opposite sex, very few musicians who go beyond school band or playing in the comfort of their own home do so for “fun” or “creative expression” – for them to succeed at their craft requires time, and time, as we all know, is not free.

Now you can get The Trouble With Being God, my debut philosophical / psychological thriller, for just $3.50 on the Kindle. (Or download the free sample to take a peek first).

Also, if you have an iPhone, don’t forget you can also download Kindle books to it with the Kindle iPhone app.

As you probably know, I’m working on my next book – albeit a bit slowly (we just had our second son, so I am obliged to take a break). This second book is definitely superior to my first – and is a rather marked departure from the contents of my first (there are no murders – so far). But the biggest difference with the new book is that I am probably not going to publish it myself.

Obviously I don’t have anything against indie publishing. After all, I’ve been waving the indie flag for quite a while now. But the thing is, indie publishing has a specific purpose and that purpose was to let books like The Trouble With Being God exist. It wasn’t a regular book – and I definitely took some big risks in the way I wrote it. I never expected it to be a huge success (and so far it hasn’t been) but the goal with that book was to write the story I wanted to tell – even though it wasn’t likely to be a hit with any sort of mainstream audience (in fact, I expected the ending to probably piss a lot of people off. It did – and for those of you who felt cheated, I’m sorry). Still, indie publishing is made for that kind of thing – trying something new to put it out there when traditional channels just aren’t ready to take that kind of financial risk.

The new book (which I’m currently calling ‘The Unfortunate Expiration of Mr. David S. Sparks’) is still something a bit out of the ordinary. It’s a futuristic kind of sci-fi tale – kind of a Philip K. Dick meets Aldous Huxley thing – but it’s something that I believe can hit a pretty major chord with a lot of people – and I’m planning on pitching it to publishers and agents.

With TTWBG I didn’t really bother with that. I did send out one agent query, but I published the book myself before I even received my rejection letter (it was the same agent that Dan Brown uses, by the way). The point was that I wanted to skip the back and forth and just get this first story out there. With TUEomDSS that’s not really the case.

This new work is something that I think has a chance for major success. It speaks to fairly widespread ideals, and is a mirror of our own place and time. It’s being told in a way that I think fits the storyline, and it’s something that I actually get excited when I read.

If you’ve been following me, you might think I’m some sort of speaker for the indie movement. I might be, but chances are I’m probably not. Here’s what I really think:

Self-publishing (indie publishing) is a decision you make. It’s not a last resort for those who can’t be published – and it’s also not a solution for those too scared to be rejected. The decision to self-publish is one you need to take absolutely seriously, and do so for the right reasons. There are a lot of reasons to do so – many of which are valid (less control over your artistic vision, to put out a work that might not have a mainstream outlet, to ensure a higher royalty per unit sold) but there are a lot of reasons not to.

The Unfortunate Expiration of Mr. David S. Sparks is a little over halfway done – and I already know I’m going to be sending this one out. It’s a damn good book (although it could definitely use some caressing), and it’s something that I believe a lot of people will like. It deserves, and hopefully will receive, the backing of the traditional press and to be in every major bookstore out there.

The Trouble With Being God was a good book and I’m proud of it … but it wasn’t right for traditional publishing.

This one is, and it’s where it’s going. (I hope.)

To be honest, at first I really wasn’t very interested in reading his book. The cover art definitely screamed indie, and the premise seemed a bit cliche (man’s life sucks, is presented with chance to change), and I am also usually pretty wary of author’s soliciting their works to me to read.  (I already have quite a few books on my to-read list.)  But Rogers and I emailed back and forth a few times (full disclosure here) and I told him that if he put it up on Kindle I’d maybe read it.  He did, he emailed me, and I went ahead and read it.

The thing is, this really isn’t my kind of book.  From some of the reviews out there he supposedly has some similarities to Bukowski, who I’ve never really cared enough about to read (and therefore can’t comment as to if he really is like Bukowski).  I will say this though: Celluloid Cowboy is really damn weird.

I hated the main character. I would absolutely never want to know someone like him (actually I have known people somewhat like him, and make it a point to avoid knowing them now). He has no purpose to life, he gets caught up in violence and murder and sex and disgustingness far too often – and yet somehow he’s supposed to have some resonance with the reader as someone who really does have a chance at redemption. He’s a bad person and pretty much everyone he comes into contact with in this book is a bad person… but I kept on reading.  Something here pulled me in, and Rogers made me really want to see how everything would play out in the end.

The thing with Celluloid Cowboy is that I could really never see this being published by any respectable publisher. It’s just too plain whacked out to fall into anything I could see a publisher feeling safe distributing – which is why I give a lot of credit to Rogers for putting it out on his own imprint, Black Coffee Press. This is exactly what independent publishing is for: to take chances and write something daring and original – avoiding that attempt to appeal to a specific target demographic that some major publisher is trying to sell to.

Celluloid Cowboy is destined to find an audience, so long as those who read it share the word – and that’s what I’m doing. It’s not going to change your world, but if you’re down for a quick gritty read, I absolutely recommend it.

By the way, if you own a Kindle you can get your copy for just $1.59 (at least that’s the price right now).  Go get it.

Of course, there also some “officially” published books that also suck.  But they are much fewer and far between – and generally don’t ever come from the major print houses.  Yes, there may be some bad storytelling here and there, but for the most part they’ve been groomed pretty heavily by quite a lot of very talented people – and this is one of the biggest things the major houses have going for them.

But here’s the thing – where a book is published really is not what determines its quality.  What matters most is that any author planning on releasing their work take it completely seriously. If one plans on going the indie route and publishing on their own, then he or she needs to also realize that they are at a disadvantage.  There is no big team of people working on your project – although all the functions of those teams at major publishing houses serve very important purposes.  So, it’s up to the self-published author to make sure those jobs are still taken care of.

This is where the sucky self-published books start to appear.  A lot of the time these books have not had a trained eye edit them and will often only have been looked over by the writer (if the writer even bothered to look at it after writing). Even then, is the writer any good in the first place?  Should he really be putting this work out there?

It’s one thing to publish something because you want it in print, but when sucky self-published books get out there in front of potential readers they just make more muck for potential readers to muddle through.  If you’re going to self-publish, make sure to do everything in your power (including asking other people for help) to ensure that your finished product is not a waste of people’s time.  Otherwise you’re doing a disservice to readers and the rest of the self-published authors who take the indie movement seriously.

Rather than get into the details of the audience discussion (you can get the gist from the Twitter discourse or  can get the overview from MediaLoper), I want to discuss a bit the bigger point the publishing industry doesn’t seem to be getting – they no longer hold the keys to the kingdom.

For hundreds of years now, the barrier to entry to create a written work that can easily be duplicated and made available to the masses has relied upon a very closed system, with a very high cost of entry.  During those times logistical issues greatly limited the amount of content that could be created (how many printing presses exist, for example) or how many books could really be sold (how many bookstores could exist, and how much shelf space was available). So it was extraordinarily important for any publisher to make very discriminate decisions as to what books they would publish and ultimately attempt to get onto a store’s shelf. During this time they were the tastemakers and ultimately responsible for the continued desire for people to want to consume the written word.

Obviously in this day of low-cost Print-on-Demand, endless digital space to store works, a limitless long-tail shopping experience through places like Amazon, these logistical issues are no longer major barriers. Anyone can publish a book or write a blog, and there is a tremendous amount of content out here for all of us to consume. There is no barrier to entry other than having access to a computer, which really has reduced the ability for the publisher to be the “curator.”  Since everyone today has the ability to have a voice both among friends and family but potentially loud enough for the entire world to hear, the people are today’s curators and tastemaker.  This is why it was so disappointing to hear with such adamacy at yesterday’s panel that this was a key component of the traditional publishing industry.

The  ultimate “New Think” for the publishing industry that I’ve been pushing both in book publishing, as well as in the music publishing industry is to change the mindset that publishers are in charge and the customers should trust them.  Instead, publishers need to stop trying to be tastemakers and instead realize that they are ultimately administrators of extraordinarily valuable copyright-protected content that they can build a brand around. Find content or creators that already have a following (and sometimes take risks on ones that have a potential to be big), cultivate those creators and their content with your professional editing staff and then get the content out to people.

But in no instance, think it is your job to decide what is and is not worthy of publication. Yes, you should decide what is worthy of having your logo slapped on it, as you are building a brand – but the concept that it is your job to be the ultiate curator and gatekeeper, as well as to create one single item that people should buy is not going to work anymore.

Give people a quality product, from a respected brand, in whatever way people want to consume it, and you will continue to be relevant. Just keep in mind that people have the choice to ignore you now and go elsewhere too. Remove some of the internal decision process and instead watch trends. Take care of the intellectual property you administer, as well as take care of those who create it for you. The cream will ultimately rise to the top with or without you – so if you want to have a stake in the cream then invest in it and care for it – but don’t for a second think you’re the ones who decide what the cream is anymore.

That’s what this thing called The Internet does for you.

Footage from the Actual Panel (yes, the first question is me):