ebooks

THE EXPERIMENT

Early this year, after getting excited by what the Self-Publishing Podcast crew was up to, and after seeing a friend have great success with it, I decided to try my hand at a serialized novel. Serials were clearly working for a lot of people and it looked like fun on both the writing side (new format!) and the publishing side (a new release every week!).

So I set to work, and by April, I was ready to fling mine out into the world. How did it go?

Well, for the TL:DR version, and my all-time favorite post on the matter of selling serials vs. novels, see Susan Kaye Quinn. The slightly longer version is this: there are advantages to writing serials, but they don’t sell themselves any more than novels do. So if your new release strategies are based on, say, advertising novel-length works, releasing story/novella-length episodes might present you with a challenge.

Anyway, back to my results. I wrote a time travel thriller called The Cutting Room. I decided to write 6 episodes, each one running between 12,000-16,000 words and 84,000 in total, with a TV-style arc. I found a pre-made cover from James at the excellent Go On Write and, for a few bucks more, got him to set me up with six distinct looks as well as a full-length version (a 3D box set version, and a 2D version for Apple, which won’t take 3D covers). Individual episodes looked like this:

Not an ideal nailing of the genre, but suggestive of it, and perfect for the mood. In any event, enjoy the pictures now, because a wall of text is about to follow.

OUT INTO THE WORLD!

The first episode went live April 22, 2013. I alerted my Facebook page, then sent to my mailing list the next day. Neither was huge at that time—my FB page was probably around 100 Likes, as I recall, and my mailing list around 300—but that and some advertising had done quite well for the third book in my Breakers series two months earlier.

Excitement! The first day, I sold.. 4 copies. By the end of the first week, I was sitting pretty at 31. (Amazon.com numbers only—Amazon UK and B&N probably put that around 40, but I didn’t keep records for them.)

Well.

Don’t get me wrong, that’s not bad, given the modest size of my lists and the fact I was offering them a new series in a different format. But by comparison, Breakers #3, augmented by some serious ads, had moved 767 copies on .com in its first week. By contrast, this was looking like a bust.

But the advantage of serialization is you don’t get one release, you get a bunch. Six, in my case. With so many books hanging out as new releases, they should pull each other up the charts. Ideally.

Mine didn’t. To cut to the chase, each episode performed about the same. 25-30 copies sold its first week, about twice that in its first month. In an attempt to kick things up a notch, I made the first episode permafree about three weeks in. That helped a little, but with no way to advertise it on the freebie sites (too short), there was no significant bump.

Here is a chart of my first few weeks. It is mostly made of sad.

This is how each episode fared over its first ten days. Again, Amazon US only. Sales are cumulative; i.e., by day 3, episode #1 had sold 23 copies. Each episode was released exactly a week after the first. So in this chart, Day 1 for episode #2 happened on Day 8 after #1 was released. According to my records, #1 went free the day #4 went live. Also, you’ll note these numbers don’t perfectly match up to the ones I quoted above. That’s because I didn’t start pushing the episodes until the day after they went live, so that’s where I started counting for the chart.

Anyway, not a lot to see here. Every week was about the same as the one before it. At least the few people who got into it stuck with it!

Mostly, the lackluster results were because none of my launches was ever significant enough to start getting the books recommended to other readers. I think that if my first couple days of sales had been 30-60 rather than 10-15, I would have seen growth from episode to episode. Without hitting high enough to garner an internal push from Amazon, I was selling to the same group of saps each week (my readers). (That’s a joke, my readers are the best because they read my books, QED.)

So was it a bust? Well, I’d sold a few hundred copies of the episodes, which was better than a sharp stick in the anything. But my serial didn’t really expand my audience—my primary commercial reason for this experiment—so it certainly felt like a failure at the time. So much so that, before the final episode went live, I altered its ending to be a little more self-contained, so the book could better function as a standalone. (I had ideas for at least one more book if it took off.) Rewriting to audience response (or lack of it) was a fun experience, one you could never pull off in a novel. So, there was that. Overall, however, I was disappointed.

THE COMEBACK

But. I had yet to release the full book. Emboldened by my critical failure as a serialist, and with no momentum on the individual episodes, I decided to go all-out with the complete novel, releasing at $0.99 backed by whatever ads I could scrape together. Here was my cover:

I was in no hurry, and it took about a month to schedule everything, leap through Apple’s hoops, etc. Once it went live into the world, I discovered something funny: a lot of my readers hadn’t been interested in the serialized version, but they were plenty happy to pick up the full novel. With the individual episodes, my readers on FB and my mailing list were good for about 10 Amazon US sales in the first two days. With the full book, over an equal period, they were good for 54, and crossed 100 the day after that.

Then the ads kicked in. Which I could run, because this was a full-length novel, not a 15,000-word short. (Serializing gave me one advantage there, however: since some of my readers had already read the full thing, they were ready to review it right away. It was sort of like ARCs. That I made them pay for. Hahaha.)

With the initial push from my readers, the book became embedded in Amazon’s recommendation algorithms, which the ads helped amplify. Within a week, it had sold 575 copies there. I switched it to $2.99 a couple days after that. By the end of its first month, its Amazon US sales were about 1150, with another 150-200 on the other sites as well. Compare that to 50-60 sales of each episode over a similar timeframe.

Hooray for me! Wait, that’s not what this post is about; this post is about cold-blooded dissection. Where did I leave my scalpel?

LESSONS LEARNED

The first, and the biggest, is that serials aren’t a magic bullet. I guess that should be obvious. Nothing is! Earlier this year, however, it sort of felt like they were; at the very least, it seemed like serialization was a sure-fire way to expand your audience through the boost given to each new release.

For me, it didn’t (except maybe a little bit at Kobo). It could be the book or some part of its presentation hampered it, but whatever the cause, my episodes never gained enough momentum for the algos to take them off to the races.

Know what though, we can break this down. Here’s the main cause of my failure to launch: a) I was starting a new series my readers weren’t familiar with b) in a format they weren’t used to buying (serial rather than novel) c) with a limited fanbase to begin with (~400-500 potential readers on my lists) and d) with no outside sources to augment that potential readership; the episodes were too short to advertise in the venues I was familiar with, and I wasn’t creative enough to find alternate ways to reach people.

So basically, the only people buying the episodes were my core, core readers. The people who would buy and read the Kleenex I just sneezed into. If you’re looking at serializing purely for the benefit of multiple new releases, take a long hard look at your audience and understand that most of them aren’t going to follow your experiment right away.

Genre is part of this equation, too. Serials work better in some genres because those readers are actively searching for new content. Romance, definitely. Erotica/erom, for sure. Zombies, I think so. Time travel special ops? I.. no. No, there’s no rabid readership waiting for the next one of those to drop.

ON THE UPSIDE…

I’m talkin’ all mercenary here, but this experience was a ton of fun. Publishing a new episode every week was a blast. I would love to do that again.

Now, back to mercenary sales talk! Additionally, the format of serials provides you with many opportunities you don’t have publishing full-length novels. After the tepid response to the initial episodes, I was able to adjust my promotional tactics on the fly, permafreeing the first episode before the last was out. Not only that, but I was able to change the last episode itself based on this (lack of) response—since it looked like the season was a failure, sales-wise, I revised the ending to let the book function as more of a standalone story that would, hopefully, be more satisfying and self-contained. ‘Cause I sure as hell wasn’t gonna write a sequel to something nobody appeared to want!

There are obvious dangers with making changes like that, but being able to adjust and adapt to reader response is an incredible option to have in your back pocket.

Also, now that the full book is out there, I still have episode one free pointing to the whole thing. It doesn’t give away copies in the volume that a full book does, but it’s a nice little long-term funnel.

HOW TO DO IT BETTER

First: stick with it. My first season didn’t see any growth from episode to episode, but quite a few people wound up picking up the full novel. I think that, if I were to do more seasons, I would do a lot better. Mostly because my lists are much bigger these days. But also because I’ll have created a readership for The Cutting Room and that readership will be more used to serialization, meaning more of them would pick it up right off the bat.

Along similar lines, it would help lots to serialize something in a series/world where you’ve already got readers. Those people are already waiting for the next installment, whatever it is. That’s going to reduce a lot of their resistance to purchase a different format.

Note that I’m not saying everyone should serialize the next novel in their popular series. Just that, if you are interested in trying a serial, it’s going to help if your readers are already into the world. You could do a spinoff, say; pick up a secondary character or storyline and branch out into that in a serialized format. Now I’d better quit exploring this idea before I convince myself to do it.

Another area to explore with serials is pricing. When I released mine, I screwed up royally. Since $0.99 is the lowest you can charge for an ebook, those faithful readers who picked up The Cutting Room episode by episode paid $5.94. Then when I released the full book, I kicked it out the door at $0.99. That was due to circumstances forcing my hand, but.. that is not how you want to treat your most loyal readers, haha.

So, here’s my wonkiest idea of all: use inverted pricing. Price your episodes so buying them all will cost less than the full book. If you have 4 episodes, buying them will cost a minimum of $3.96; thus, sell your episodes at $0.99, and let your readers know that if they wait to buy the full book, well, it’s gonna cost $4.99. If you’ve got 6 eps, buying them one by one will run them $5.94, but the collection is going to be set at $7.99.

MADNESS!

Yes. Madness. A higher price will make the full-length book less appealing to readers who stumble onto it later. But that price doesn’t have to be permanent; when you get to season two, you could cut a couple bucks off the price of the complete season one. Either way, season one will still have a permafree entry point going for it. You might even package the first two episodes into a double-length pilot, the way a lot of TV shows do, and set that free to help people choose whether to plunk down for the full book. Size matters, gentlemen. If that double-length pilot is up around the 40K word range, you might have an easier time advertising it.

In any event, the point of inverted pricing isn’t to make money here and now on the full-length novels. It’s to take advantage of the perks of multiple new releases, reaching new readers episode by episode, expanding your reach each time. It’s a short-term hit for a long-term gain, Amazon-style.

GOOD LORD THIS IS AS LONG AS A KKR BLOG!

This post has largely banged on about sales, but serializing a novel was a really, really fun experience. I don’t want that to get lost in all the numbers-talk. Serializing challenged me to think about story structure in a new way, and publishing a new episode every single week was tremendously enjoyable. Despite the difficulties, I’d love to try it again some time.

It also taught me a lot about why books sell. Much of what I learned is very basic—people are more likely to buy what they already know and like, be that novel-length fiction or a world they’re already familiar with—but the fact it’s simple means it’s all that more valuable to understand.

The other very simple thing it taught me: episodes aren’t novels. Trying to sell serialized fiction is a much different world than trying to sell full-length books, complete with different advantages and different challenges. If you’re going to try a serial, I would examine those challenges ahead of time and do your best to nullify them.

Maybe that’s just a matter of sticking with it.

In “stuff you might want to consider purchasing” news: the guys from the Self-Publishing Podcast have put out a book about (you guessed it!) self-publishing. Called Write. Publish. Repeat., it’s available on Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, and Kobo.

If you’re not familiar with the SPP crew, well, they helped reinvent serialized fiction for the digital era and were some of the first writers contracted for Amazon’s own serial program. They’re insanely prolific—like, millions of words a year; David Gaughran recently blogged about the methods described in their book—and their podcast is one of the best resources out there for independent authors. WPR is the distillation of nearly two years of that podcast into one book.

For the moment, it’s available for $2.99, but I think it will be raised to its list price of $5.99 pretty quick. Hope you find it useful.

(Extra special bonus: in it, they compare me to Justin Timberlake. Next time, I will insist they compare JT to me.)

Big news today: next month, Amazon is rolling out the Kindle MatchBook program.

What is MatchBook? Well, why don’t I just lazily quote their FAQ:

“The Kindle MatchBook program offers customers who purchase, or have previously purchased, a print book from Amazon.com the option to purchase the Kindle version of that title for $2.99 or less. If you have a print version of your title and enroll the Kindle version in Kindle MatchBook you can earn a royalty from Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) based on the Promotional List Price (choose from $2.99, $1.99, $0.99, or free) for any Kindle MatchBook sale.”

Boiling it down for readers: buy the paperback, and you can buy the ebook of enrolled titles at a steep discount–even for free, in some cases.
Boiled down for writers: if you’ve got a paperback version of your book, and someone buys it, you can choose to offer them a discount on the ebook as well.
I don’t see a single objectionable part of this program, but since it involves money and ebooks, I’m sure someone will be up in arms somewhere. In that case, I offer two ways to look at this. First, look at it from a reader’s perspective. If you bought a physical copy of a book, and the publisher offered to bundle it with the ebook version for an additional $0-2.99, wouldn’t you be high fiving them so fast the resulting wind would blow open the pages of your new paperback?
For readers, this is awesome.
The second way to approach this is via analogy. If you buy a CD, you have effectively bought both a physical and a digital version of that album; anyone with a computer can convert a physical CD into mp3s. You’re paying for a work, not for a format.
Is there a problem with that? No? Then what’s the problem with offering an equivalent service with books and ebooks? The only difference I can see is that consumers can rip their own mp3s, but they can’t rip an ebook from a paperback. Publishers have to convert the manuscript into the digital format for consumers.
But let’s be real. Unless you’re formatting a book with all kinds of fancy non-text elements, ebook formatting is not hard. I literally formatted a full novel yesterday, with discrete versions for Amazon, Kobo, and B&N. It took me about 90 minutes. And that included uploading times and a few rounds of tweaks, because I’m a caveman who writes in a non-Word word processor and who doesn’t use any automated formatting scripts. Formatting is a non-issue.
Meanwhile, you can still charge $0.99-2.99 for the bundled ebook. If somebody’s already paying $8-25 for a physical copy, I think $1-3 enters the impulse purchase zone for a great many people. What section of the market regularly pays full price for both formats? I hate using anecdotes as evidence, but the only time I’ve bought the ebook version of a book I already own in hard copy is when that ebook has been listed at an extreme discount (like when Orbit slashed Consider Phlebas to $0.99 for a little while, or when one of Neal Stephenson’s books has been dropped to $1.99). If this causes many paperback purchasers to spend $1-3 more on the ebook format, that’s far superior to the $0 they’d usually be spending.
Not to mention this may be a way to help entice paperback readers into reading more ebooks. Which might actually cause publishers to hesitate, heh.
And if they do, that’s just one more area where indies can offer similar quality for lesser cost to readers.
Anyway, enough defense of a program that’s brilliant on its face (and for all I know, I’m flailing at strawmen anyway). I love this as a reader and I love it as an author. I’ve already enrolled all my eligible books in the program. Right on, Amazon. Right on.

That could be the entire post, really.

For context, this morning I was reading a cool post by Courtney Milan about estimating the value of your book’s rights. In it, she compares the value of a hypothetical trad contract vs. what you’d earn self-publishing it. Overall, it’s a very reasonable piece that isn’t about banner-waving for one side or the other, but is rather about assessing the money value of either option so you can make the best decision about which route to take.

The problem, sort of, is that she compares both examples over a 35-year span. On the one hand, when you’re talking about book contracts that can for last decades beyond your death–although she points out the rather neat fact that all authors can reclaim their rights after 35 years–it’s perfectly valid to assess the long-term pros and cons about signing such a contract.

On the other hand… who knows how things are going to look 5 years from now, let alone 35.

So, given that the future of the book industry and ebooks in particular is so unknowable, there’s an argument to be made that up-front money–i.e. an advance–should be weighted more heavily than long-term royalty projections. Which isn’t to say I think Courtney’s wrong; her projections sound very reasonable, and thus helpful in reaching a decision about what to do with your book. This is just something to think about.

Anyway, over the course of discussing the ongoing chaos that is present-day publishing, I went to look at how many new ebooks are currently being published. Late last December, I noted there were 1.8 million titles in the Kindle store. Checking the numbers today, there are just over 2.1 million.

300,000 new titles in a little under 8 months.

Prorate that for the rest of 2013, and that’s roughly 472,000 new books.

1293 every day.

54 per hour.

A new ebook is being published to Amazon almost every minute.

I don’t have any particularly strong insight into this. Besides maybe “Holy shit.” But, to circle back to long-term projections, if books continued to be published at the current rate, then 35 years from now, the Kindle store would contain about 18,620,000 books. Nearly nine times as many titles as are available today.

Or not, because 35 years from now, there may well not be a “Kindle” store. I have no earthly idea.

For the record, I’ll readily admit that “Oh man I have no idea how to even begin to approach this” is far less useful than “Here is one method to help you assess the value of your book rights in regards to whether to sell them to a publisher or maintain them for yourself.”

I think Courtney has laid out a very good process for decision-making. It’s a great post. But hard numbers can provoke confidence. I would like to use a few other numbers to illustrate how far away publishing in 2013 might be from publishing in 2048: one (book per minute), half a million (per year), nine (times as many as we have now).

Last year, I wrote a series of posts about what I would do if I were just getting my start as an indie author. It was intended to be a modest and simple way to get your foot in the door even if, like me, you’ve been on Facebook 18 months but still find yourself terrified that one wrong click will announce to the world that it’s been nine days since you last put on pants.

But the problem with last year is that it was last year. In the timescale of indie authors, “last year” is like another epoch. I may as well have written a guide on the best way to trap an allosaurus. Interesting, perhaps, as a historical document, but not all that relevant in this brave new world of “mammals.”

That right there is the problem. My advice, at the time, was (hopefully) relevant, because I had just graduated from indie-hobo to making a living at this (by my comically low standards). Then things changed. And they changed some more. And they changed again. When the landscape changes this fast, as soon as you take off, you no longer have a clear view of what’s happening down on the ground. By the time someone’s an expert, they’re obsolete.

That’s maybe a bit harsh. But it is absolutely critical to understand that nobody is offering bulletproof advice. And that, perversely, people with less authority–indies with little to no track record–may be in better position to offer quality advice than people who’ve sold hundreds and thousands of their books.

I don’t know where that leaves me exactly, and you know what, I’m not going to bother to figure it out. A couple weeks ago, someone asked me how to get started here and now. I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that anymore, but it’s an interesting question. So here’s some advice and analysis! Some or all of it might be worthless! Enjoy figuring that out for yourself.

Okay. To understand what you might do differently in 2013, we should probably look at what is different. What’s changed over the last year?

First, the biggie: Select sucks. The way Amazon treats free giveaways has changed repeatedly. Right now, even people who are giving away as many as 40,000 copies of their books during a free run are often seeing just a few dozen sales afterwards.

I don’t know the exact mechanics of the latest algo change, but the results aren’t there anymore. It isn’t just about the algos, either. Back in February, Amazon changed their affiliate agreement in a way that diminished or destroyed a lot of the freebie-advertising affiliate sites. Select isn’t dead for all books and strategies, but it’s been reduced to a fraction of its former power. It’s no longer the no-duh choice for anyone, let alone new authors.

Now, some good news: Kobo threw open the doors to self-publishers, joining Amazon, B&N, and Apple as markets we can directly upload our work to. Kobo got a lot of early hype as this was happening last summer. A lot of indie gurus painted them as the next big thing, particularly in international markets.

That hasn’t exactly happened yet, so here’s my assessment of Kobo: they’re a cool company whose self-publishing wing (Writing Life) is run by great people. So far, they’ve managed to capture a few percent of the various English-speaking markets, except Canada, where they’re Godzilla. Currently, they are probably the fourth-largest market for self-published authors, who make up some 25% of their total sales. A new store is a new opportunity to be discovered.

On the distribution side, Smashwords has made a couple cool improvements, allowing you to upload epubs and to set up preorders at B&N, Kobo, and Apple. They also seem to have made modest improvements to the quality and speed of their distribution process. Bigger yet, the first real alternative to Smashwords popped into being: Draft2Digital. While they don’t publish to as many venues as Smashwords, they cover the major outlets, and generally seem to be much speedier and more responsive. It’s now significantly easier to reach the big markets like B&N, which non-US residents can’t publish to directly, and Apple, which has a steep learning curve.

In terms of advertising, BookBub exploded on the scene and is hands down the best mover of free and discount books (although that means their ads are expensive and can be hard to book). Kindle Books and Tips converted from a freebie site and now runs discount books. Their results can be a little inconsistent, but are often in the same tier as ENT and POI–pretty great, in other words. BookBlast opened up, too. Operating on the BookBub model, it isn’t yet large enough to be the cornerstone of an advertising campaign, but their rates are very fair, the results are there, and they’ve been growing steadily. There still aren’t enough ways to advertise to non-Amazon readers, but we have a few new tools at our disposal. And as long as there’s money to be made, effective advertising options should continue to grow.

Eight jillion other things happened, too, but these are the ones that feel significant to me. And they all pretty much point in the same direction: away from Select freebies and toward wide distribution bolstered by $0.99 sales.

But success with that model generally means having multiple books and building an audience in multiple markets. Which, by definition, excludes brand-new authors. So now that the easy button of Select has been disconnected, what should new authors do instead?

Well, I’ve got an idea. It’s pretty simple and obvious. But before I get to that, I want to look at an idea that’s kind of its opposite–and which is becoming an increasingly popular piece of advice. Part 2: Don’t Wait.

As per their blog, authors published through Smashwords will now be able to set up preorders on B&N, Kobo, and Apple.

My immediate response to this is it’s not as useful as it might sound, but it’s still one of the most interesting things Smashwords has ever done–and they should do lots more things like this.

Now, to the bitching and complaining! For one thing, if you upload direct to Kobo and Apple, you’re already able to set up preorders for your books. For many of us, then, the only upgrade this would provide would be the option to set up preorders at BN. And, of course, one name is conspicuously missing from all this talk: Amazon.

This isn’t a “Who cares, Amazon is all that matters” problem, either. It’s a logistical one. The advantage of preorders–piling up sales in advance, all of which get credited to your rank on day one–can only be exploited if you let your readers know ahead of time. Meanwhile, many of us alert our readers to our new books via mailing list. So what do you do, send to your list a month in advance saying, “Hey, preorder on BN here,” then send it again at release time to hit up your Amazon readers, too? Maybe I’m too paranoid about the sanctity of my list, but I don’t like the idea of doubling the amount of “Buy my crap” emails I send to my readers. Additionally, I think many of them wouldn’t bother grabbing the preorder; it’s not a strong call to action, as the marketing buzzwords go. I think a fair amount of the email recipients would wait until the second, release day email, diluting the efficiency of the preorder.

But none of that is Smashwords’ fault, and that’s not to say BN preorders would be useless. You could certainly alert your Facebook page or your blog in advance without alienating readers, or bite the spam-bullet and resign yourself to two email sends per book. It could be a pretty dang useful tool at what remains the second-biggest ebookstore in the US.

Still, it’s not exactly murderously cool. And that’s leaving aside the insurmountable problem that SW doesn’t make changes fast enough to run reliable sales through it. $0.99 sales are a big part of the indie game right now. Until SW can quickly and reliably adjust prices to Apple, Kobo, and BN, they’re not on my radar.

For people who use SW to reach those places, though, that’s a sweet new feature. And it’s exactly the sort of thing I love seeing Smashwords pursue. Because in order for SW to be useful, SW has to be useful. They have to provide indies with options and tools we don’t have access to for ourselves. Prior to this, SW was useful for about five things:

1) Publishing permafree books to BN

2) Allowing non-US residents to publish to BN

3) Allowing people who don’t have a Mac and infinite patience to publish to Apple

4) Publishing to the host of smaller stores that don’t have a self-publishing platform (Sony, Diesel)

I swear I had a fifth point, but now I can’t think of anything else, which kind of sums up the whole SW experience. Wait, I just walked my dog and thought of two more:

5) You publish so much stuff (like a story per day) that it’s more efficient to let SW handle all the non-Amazon distribution

6) You publish a lot of work at $0.99, where SW’s 60% royalty is more attractive than the 35-45% at other stores

But most of these advantages are of limited value (publishing to Sony) or don’t apply to broad swathes of indie authors (being unable to publish to BN). So I’m extremely happy to see Smashwords add features that are useful to every self-published author out there. I want to see more stuff like this! I want SW to force me to think about long and hard whether I’m really better off distributing for myself.

I’m skeptical that will ever be the case, and while I don’t think BN preorders are a game-changer, this has caused me to reevaluate Smashwords to some degree. Yeah, there’s a lot to complain about with them. But with just two or three changes, I bet they could have us lining up in droves.

It’s good to be reminded to keep an open mind. That’s probably the most useful tool we indie authors have.

Psst. Hey. You like epic fantasy? How about lots of epic fantasy novels from some bestselling authors (and me) bundled for a ridiculously cheap price? Then this may be relevant to your interests: the four-book fantasy box set The Strife of Gods & Kings, currently just $0.99.

If we’ve stumbled into a Bizarro Universe where you know me, but not the other authors in the set, here’s a quick rundown. David Dalglish, author of the Half-Orcs series, is perhaps the poster boy for indie epic fantasy. He’s sold hundreds of thousands of copies by himself, and within the next year, he’ll have books coming out with both Orbit and Amazon’s 47 North.

Michael Wallace also began indie, but his Righteous thrillers boomed so big he was quickly snatched up by Amazon’s mystery imprint Thomas & Mercer, where he has sold an absurd amount of books. In addition to his thrillers, he’s written a few fantasy novels. I’m hoping some day he’ll cross back over to the Dark Side for good.

Lastly, I’m me. Hi. My book The White Tree is in here. You might like it.

I’ve read both dudes’ work. It’s great stuff and I’m honored to be in this set with them. Hope you like it.

I’m about to spend a few thousand words to make a very simple point.

My goal, career-wise, is to make a living writing fiction. If that is your goal as well, we are very lucky to be alive right now! For one thing, by all accounts, the past smelled terrible. For another, we now have more paths than ever toward our destination.

But the more paths that crop up, the more rules appear about how they ought to be followed. And the problem isn’t that there’s many different paths. The problem is there are many different landscapes. And they aren’t static. Old ones change shape while new ones are summoned into existence every day.

This means anyone trying to sell you a map is probably pointing you in the wrong direction.

~

Last night, indie blogger/novelist/guru David Gaughran added another feather to his cap: he managed to get banned from a forum he hadn’t participated in for a year.

His crime? The moderators of AbsoluteWrite believed he was trolling their forums with sockpuppets.

Link goes to an account of the incident, complete with hilarious screengrabs. The gist is that an AW member made a joke, the joke got misinterpreted, and a highly dedicated moderator swiftly discovered the poster in question had some IP addresses in common with David Gaughran–possibly because they have both posted to AW from Ireland, which isn’t a super-big country. Regardless, the moderator accused the poster of being a Gaughran sockpuppet, and when the poster insisted he was a person instead of a sock, he got banned on the spot.

Nevermind that the accused, Michael Reilly, has his own book and author page (complete with photo) on Amazon, Smashwords, and more, along with a Facebook fan page, user profiles on other sites, etc. Quite a sting that crafty David Gaughran cooked up, fabricating a whole new identity–and writing a full-length novel–for the sole purpose of infiltrating AW and making subtle jabs at its moderators.

On the other hand, that would explain why we’re having to wait so long for Let’s Get Visible.

I have two points to make. First–and most importantly–this is really, really funny. Second, AW is a respected institution and resource for writers, and it is clearly insane.

~
Maps and the unchangeable lines drawn on them come in many forms. The reason David Gaughran is such a persona non grata at AW is that he’s an unapologetic advocate of self-publishing–and AW is famously and fanatically anti-self-publishing. The site apparently considers it the height of career suicide. Self-publishers are regularly banned from the site. Other figures booted from the site include indie supernova Hugh Howey, and Robin Sullivan of Ridan Publishing. Ridan has since…wandered off into the wilderness…but at the time of Sullivan’s banning, the company was cutting a trail made of hundred dollar bills.
These people would be valuable resources, authors and/or publishers making a killing from the shifting publishing landscape. They might possibly have some valuable insight into making a career as an author. But the dogma at AbsoluteWrite is that self-publishing is not a valid career path. So out these people go. Without their voices around as counterpoints, the AW forums become echo chambers warning each other about cliffs that aren’t there. Remaining members who could be making a living as a writer self-publishing right now may never give it a shot.
We’re not talking about the art of writing here. We’re talking about its business. When it comes to business, on what Earth is it more important to cling to ideology? Like the path is more important than the destination? This is about making a living writing, not bushido.

Why not encourage people to pursue whatever path might finally give them the career they’ve always dreamed of?

~
I consider Dean Wesley Smith a valuable source of information. He’s a hardworking, dedicated professional, and if you follow his advice about productivity, about regularly writing new books and putting them in position to sell, you’ll speed through the swamps or the deserts or whatever you want to call the long, suffering-filled slogs that begin most writer’s careers. That advice is pure gold.
But why does some of his other advice have to be so inflexible? So rigidly defined?
He believes an author should distribute to as many markets as possible. That includes ruling out the option of Amazon Select, which requires you to sell (ebooks) exclusively through Amazon. Granting exclusivity, he argues, is short-term thinking; every second you’re restricted to Amazon is one second you’re not building your presence in other markets.
This isn’t a bad idea. The problem is when it’s treated as an ironclad First Principle.
I launched my career through Select. Within the same year, I moved out of it, but I still think it’s a good play for beginning authors who don’t already have fans or a platform. It can be a pretty dang nice program for established authors, too–people like Ryk Brown and Debora Geary, both of whom sold 100,000+ books last year, are still in it, and they’re no chumps. Not to get too heavily into math, but being in Select directly sustains their success–their high visibility means their books are some of the most-borrowed in the Kindle Owner’s Lending Library. Not only do they get paid for these borrows, but the borrows get applied to their sales rank, helping ensure they remain visible to other shoppers. This is a long-term strategy. If self-publishing is a dark and unknown sea, Select is their raft.
Granted, very few of us are Brown or Geary. But a whole lot of us are entering the indie frontier with nothing but a book and the hope it will be seen. And one of the very few ways to get it seen is to take advantage of the powerful tools of KDP Select.
Smith is regrettably dogmatic about promotion, too. In short, he considers it a waste of time until you have a significant backlist–25+ titles. Again, the concept makes sense–don’t waste time promoting when you should be spending that time writing new books–but following it to the letter will often do more harm than good. How long does it really take to set up a Select giveaway? Or to book an ad? Ten minutes? At the cost of a couple hundred lost words, you might walk away with hundreds of extra sales. Maybe enough to ensure you can spend next month writing, too.
As a guideline, his advice is good: “Hey, careful not to spend too much time flogging your books. Remember, the best advertising is a new release.”
As a rule, however, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Writing 25+ books will take most people 5-10 years. I don’t think you have to wait nearly that long to take an active role in selling your work. I have seen dozens of people write several books a year while promoting the books they’ve already written. Because of that, they’re selling copies and making fans today.

That feels like long-term thinking to me.

~
I’m an indie author. A self-publisher. I’m proud of it. I spend a lot of time at the Kboards Writer’s Cafe. There are many amazing people there who are incredibly generous and eager to share their advice, experience, and even personal financial information with their fellow authors, helping us all navigate the most brutal coastlines and unmapped interiors. I believe it’s the best self-publishing resource in the world.

But I don’t think self publishing is the first, best, or only way to El Dorado. And if AW is pro-trad–and even phrasing it in those terms exposes how ridiculous such positions are–then Kboards is pro-indie. Which often manifests as anti-traditional publishing.

Take the response to another Salon article about a guy who only made $12,000 from an “Amazon bestseller.” The facts were that he made as much per sale as he would have as a typical self-publisher. And that his publisher was directly (if luckily and unintentionally) responsible for the lightning strike of press that caused that flash of sales in the first place.

But about half the discussion on KB leaped to the conclusion that the reason he made so little money was that he was signed with a publisher. He had been screwed, and it was his own fault for signing away his rights. He would have made more self-publishing. I think most people on Kboards are pretty open, but there is a definite population that believes you should never, ever sign away your ebook rights. Not unless a big publisher walks up to you and hands you a check for a million dollars. There Be Dragons, in other words, and their lawyers are better than yours, too.

The thinking is that you will almost always make more money long-term if you hang onto your rights and publish for yourself instead of signing them over to a big publisher. That, unless they’re offering enough to match your projected earnings for the next 20+ years, it would be a poor business decision to sign over your rights.

This, I think, is a bit of wishful thinking. Ebooks may be forever, but sustained sales are not. All books peak and fall. Even Harry Potter. Even Fifty Shades. Even Wool. One of the wonderful things about the indie revolution is we’re much more protective of our book rights, especially on ebooks, but insisting you should never give them up except for silly-money is somewhat paranoid.

It’s also somewhat privileged. I know that many advances are small ($5000-20,000), and they’re often split into two or three or four payments. But very few indie authors are overnight successes. It can take a few years and several books to start earning any real money on your own. Not everyone is in position to wait for that money to start rolling in. While you’re waiting on favorable winds, you’ve still got to eat.

There are other financial reasons to accept traditional contracts, too. Maybe you write in a genre that isn’t yet indie-friendly. Or you want to diversify yourself and give someone else a vested interest in promoting your work for you. Or you feel you’ve plateaued as a self-publisher and want to roll the dice and see if someone at the Big Six can kick you up to the next level.

The fact of the matter is that, if you’re in a position to write full-time, it’s pretty easy to write a few new books every single year. If a trad contract will pay you money right now, and that money is enough to give you the breathing room to write more right now, how can you put a value on that?

How can you tell someone that it’s daft to sign away the rights to one book because they can (maybe, eventually) make more money on their own?

The goal is to make money writing. For a career. If a trad contract can help you begin that career tomorrow, it is worth deep and serious consideration. It’s all a gamble, a risk/reward assessment. You can guess which claim will cough up more gold, but no one can predict the future.

~

Even now, in 2013, there are people who think self-publishing is a pitfall that will only hamstring or destroy your career. Simultaneously, things have moved so far and so fast that others think any but the largest of traditional contracts is selling yourself short. That going indie is the only way. And if you do go indie, there are others who will tell you there are certain rules for how you must go about it, that there’s a single route through the world, and everything else is a waste of time, effort, and money.

In every instance, I understand the motivation for people laying down these rules for Doing It Right. It’s even noble: the desire to steer other writers away from hazards and toward the career they’ve always wanted.

And I understand why people look to prominent authors and institutions for advice. This job is terrifying! There is almost no security, everything’s in total anarchy, and the specific nature of that anarchy changes every god damn season. It is very comforting to have an authorial belief system, a set of laws to turn to for a clear path through the wilds.

But it should be pretty clear by now there are far more exceptions than there are rules. I’d go so far as to say there are no rules. Instead, there are some ideas. Some concepts. Some guidelines. Some of which may make sense for you, right now, in this exact place and moment in your career. The trains are rarely running in the right direction, let alone on schedule, but fling yourself aboard anything that looks like it’s headed where you want to go.

I opened with the anecdote about AbsoluteWrite because it’s funny, but also because it’s insane. There are respected institutions that are so locked in to a theology of publishing that they will banish a person because they suspect he is another person who they disagree with about the proper way to build a career as a writer. Who is this helping?

By all means, take directions. We could all use a few landmarks to guide us to our goal. But this is one crazy, tripped-out, Dr. Seuss landscape we’re all traveling through. It’s going to look different to everyone who walks through it.

Because it is.

Anyone who follows this blog knows that last May, Amazon drastically changed their popularity lists (available on the left sidebar of the main Kindle store) to change the way free downloads were factored into the ranks. On last week’s Self-Publishing Podcast #42, I was asked whether this change was done in order to present readers with better books.

The short answer: yes.

The longer answer: not necessarily better books, but certainly more profitable ones. That’s a very important distinction to make right off the bat. In all media, there’s an ongoing, centuries-long debate about whether a work’s value is based on its commercial appeal or its artistic qualities. As it turns out, I have nothing to contribute to that debate. So what follows should in no way be taken as a judgment of books that have failed to thrive under the recent Select model. Some of my books did worse as well.

But here’s what we know. Between the birth of the Select program in December 2011 and mid-March 2012, all it took for a book to hit the first few pages of its category after a free run was a few hundred downloads. 2000+ would essentially guarantee you’d be near the top of your category, probably for 2-5 days. Because a free download was weighted the same as a paid sale. And very few books are currently selling hundreds of copies per day on Amazon. Right now, about 1000 sell 100/day. Maybe 500 sell 200/day. And only something like 100 sell 500+/day. The numbers were a little lower a year ago, but not by all that much.

Meanwhile, every day, freebie aggregate blogs were pointing their readerships toward several dozen free titles. The biggest blogs had tens of thousands of subscribers, more or less guaranteeing every book featured would pick up at least 1000 downloads. There was some level of curation involved–covers had to be at least halfway decent, and there was typically a rating threshold of some kind–but the blogs had no real way to test the commercial potential of the books they mentioned. And when a book is free, the resistance to downloading it is much, much lower than when that book has a price tag attached to it.

The result is that a lot of books with lower commercial appeal wound up displacing books with higher commercial appeal. On Amazon’s popularity lists, 1000 free downloads beat 100 paid sales, and new Select books were picking up thousands of free downloads every single day. The gatekeepers weren’t strong enough to keep out the low-appeal books, meaning readers were less likely to buy the books in front of them or to be satisfied with the titles they did purchase.

What was the solution? Well, Amazon wasn’t about to start curating these books themselves. Amazon is all about letting massive numbers of consumers reach their own decisions, proving in the most meaningful possible fashion which books have the highest commercial appeal. So some churn of their lists was probably a good thing, as it broke up the stagnation of long-term bestsellers (by the way, the iBookstore is currently struggling with this problem) and presented more voracious readers with fresh material. But this was too much, and it was too unregulated.

The answer was to raise the standards for which books would get prime placement. And in typical Amazon fashion, they would tie that standard to consumer behavior.

In March, they started testing new popularity lists; in May, there was a new algorithm. The winner no longer weighted free downloads equally with paid sales, but at something near a 10:1 scale. And instead of weighting the last 1-7 days of sales + downloads, it looked at the last 30.

So instead of needing 2000+ downloads to land high on the charts–a number most decent-looking books promoted by the top sites could cross; about 100 free books managed that number of downloads per day–their new formula required somewhere between 8000-20,000 downloads to really hit it big. The more niche or iffy books couldn’t hit those numbers anymore; fewer than twenty per day could climb those heights. With exceptions, the only books that could rake in that many downloads were the ones that would have guaranteed commercial appeal when plunked in front of readers. The gatekeepers–readers, making their download decisions one click at a time–were made stronger.

They crowdsourced commercial appeal. In the environment of the time, one or two or three thousand readers downloading a free book wasn’t a terribly accurate predictor of that book’s potential. But if you upped those numbers ten times over–to ten or twenty or thirty thousand reader downloads–you had a much more accurate barometer for which books would sell when they were awarded with extra visibility.

It was a net gain for readers, who had an easier time finding appealing books, but a net loss for writers, fewer of whom could pull in the number of downloads required to hit the jackpot.

Again, I’m presenting this without judgment. A book’s surface appeal, which prompts free downloads, doesn’t necessarily represent its deeper appeal, which prompts word of mouth and long-term sales (to say nothing of literary or artistic appeal). And Amazon’s current algos aren’t perfect. Certain factors–the readership demographics of the major blogs, crossover appeal of the larger genres, Amazon’s categories, etc.–means that certain subgenres (romance, thrillers, etc.) have an easier time of it than more niche subgenres (epic fantasy, Westerns?, etc.).

This is just my narrative of what happened. Amazon’s standards/algos weren’t high enough to deal with the emerging free book market; the rewards for making your book free were disproportionately high compared to their average commercial value.

So they raised their standards. And a lot of authors were left scrambling for a new solution.

 ~

The silver lining to these changes is that we as authors can take advantage of the raised standards to gauge the appeal of our own books. But since this post is already closing in on 1000 words long, I’m going to tackle that in a followup.

It is an amazing time to be an author. No joke. It has probably never been easier or more realistic to make a living writing books. Self-publishing platforms offered by Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and elsewhere have made it incredibly easy for authors to reach readers directly. Maybe too easy! Well, you don’t have to buy it, chums.

But I am deeply in love with all these companies. After spending most of a year gazing creepily into their Nooks and crannies, I have determined they are very much like people. Some take more time to understand than others. Some are easygoing. Others are grumpy. Whatever their faults, however, I love them all, because they have given me the job I have always wanted to had: writing books.

And just like friends and relatives, none of them is perfect. Since they’ve all come to me begging for advice, I’ve assembled a list of ways they can improve (from the perspective of indie authors) over the next year. It should be stated and restated that none of these suggestions means I think any of these places is useless or bad. I genuinely love all of them.

But some could be better to me. If I were these places, and I cared what indie authors thought, here’s what I would do to improve the experience in 2013.


Amazon needs to improve the Select program.

In 2012, Select changed everything. It released in early December of 2011 and allowed unknown authors to give their books away to thousands of readers. With a decent free run to vault them up Amazon’s popularity lists, an author could go on to sell a lot of their books over the next 7+ days, too. Over the period of just a few months, uncounted indie authors built real careers on the back of Select.

In March, Amazon tested ways to alter the program, because (presumably) it resulted in a lot of questionable books at the top of the popularity lists, which is one of their major drivers of sales. In May, they decided they had a better system, and watered down the effectiveness of freebies significantly. Within six months of Select going live and changing everything, Amazon neutered it.

The outcome looks great for Amazon. Only the books that gave away the greatest number of copies saw a significant boost in sales afterwards (and instead of lasting for 1-2 weeks, that boost could last for a full month!). That meant only the books that had been most vetted by free downloaders wound up in front of paying customers.

Which meant it became more of a winner-takes-all program. Great for indie books with strong packaging in popular genres. Not so great for niche subgenres, or for anyone who doesn’t fall into, say, the top 2-5% of the Select program.

I don’t know, maybe it’s best for readers to only be served up with the best of the best indie books. But it is not the best for authors. Especially those with quality books but whose genre/luck/ability to massage the big book blogs isn’t the strongest. Offering Select authors a 70% royalty in certain non-English-speaking territories isn’t enough. The KOLL doesn’t provide them enough alternative visibility, either (and anyway, it still disproportionately rewards those at the top). Exclusivity should be worth something. There’s got to be another way to get started as a new author besides trashing other books on Goodreads, building a following, and then releasing a New Adult book. Please add a new incentive to Select in 2013.

Barnes & Noble needs an affiliate program.

As far as I know, there is no B&N equivalent to free and bargain Kindle book blogs like Pixel of Ink, Ereader News Today, and Free Kindle Books and Tips, to name just the largest. Blogs like these are instrumental for helping indie authors run promotions and get in touch with eager readers, yet there’s not a single blog remotely like this for B&N.

Why are there a jillion Kindle blogs and zero for Nook? Because Kindle blogs make lots of money off Amazon’s affiliate program. When they direct a shopper to Amazon, they receive a cut of anything that shopper goes on to buy during that trip. This incentivizes entrepreneurs to set up sites meant to alert readers to free, bargain, and noteworthy books available on Amazon. If these blogs do a good job at that, they make lots and lots AND LOTS of money.

B&N has an affiliate program, but they don’t extend it to ebooks. Thus nobody cares enough to get one going for ebooks. Thus indie authors and small publishers have far fewer methods to promote ebooks on B&N. I don’t know why they don’t extend this program to ebooks. It seems like free money for everyone–B&N gets advertising at a small cost of the sales generated by that advertising; bloggers get affiliate money; authors get royalties–yet B&N discontinued the program earlier this year. Maybe the numbers just didn’t add up.

But this is one of the chief reasons Amazon has a robust indie market and B&N is a very distant second. If they want a share of that market, they’ve got to open up ways for people to participate in it. I think that starts with affiliate percentages on ebooks.

This goes for all the ebookstores, really. If I were a smaller outlet like Sony, I would be murdering myself–or better yet, everyone else!–to set up an effective affiliate program and get other people selling my products for me.

Kobo needs an automated new releases list.

Kobo’s got a bunch of lists on their site, but most appear to be hand-operated. As in, books are selected to appear on them by hand. That’s cool, but it rewards established authors who already have the name recognition to be selected for these lists.

This extends to new releases. Yet the new release lists are one of the few areas where new authors who have either a) great books or b) savvy can push their books up the list, drawing new eyeballs.

I love Kobo. They’ve made great strides in 2012, they’re super personable, they’re indie-friendly, and I think they will soon be/already are a vital part of the ebook and indie marketplace. Now they just need to make it a little easier for new authors to get a toehold in their store. A big step in that direction includes a new release list that’s ordered by bestsellers and sortable by genre.

An automated list of bestselling freebies would be nice, too, but one step at a time.

The iBookstore needs more avenues to visibility.

Apple’s iBookstore is deeply intriguing. When you’re not used to it, it looks awful. Browsing is weird. It’s a miracle anyone can find anything. But once you’re used to it, it’s not bad at all. In fact, it’s got a bunch of different categories to find books in, a few lists of bestsellers, bargain-priced books, and staff picks, and as an author, you can set prices in 50 different countries and counting, allowing you to target prices and promotions to markets as they emerge.

But the iBookstore is not all that deep. It’s easy to find the bestselling books, as well as the ones the iBookstore team hand-selects to appear on the couple lists they’ve got, but that’s about it. Its searchability is less than great. Like Kobo, it’s very winner-takes-all. The tail isn’t very long with Apple (or, to be more accurate, very fat). They’re well-curated, but maybe a little too well-curated. Let’s add a few more ways for books to be discovered. Let indies work to prove their worthy rather than relying on you to be placed in front of shoppers.


Amazon needs to quit obsessing about new releases.

You thought I was done with Amazon? Ha ha! In the words of Kramer, not bloody likely!

In the last 1-2 years, Amazon has geared their site more and more toward new releases. Hot New Releases lists now last 30 days instead of 90. The popularity lists measure the last 30 days of sales rather than the last ~7. It has resulted in a system where new releases are king, and if you don’t sell well right off the bat, you may never have the chance to. For new writers, there’s really no such thing as “organic” growth on Amazon. You either bring a fanbase to the table to buy your new book the instant it goes live, or you struggle in total obscurity until you give away enough books to have a fanbase for your next release.

This is a catastrophic system. On the one hand, by measuring the last full 30 days of sales, it makes it very difficult for a short-term boost to be big enough to get a book selling in any real numbers. On the other hand, by only measuring the last 30 days, you ensure that books that did gain from short-term boosts and are now finding their audience will die a noisy death as soon as that 30-day cliff rolls around.

Please vary it up a little. I know, you’ve got 1,800,000 ebooks and counting. Who cares about all that old crap when you’re adding 100,000 titles per month. But right now, too many elements of the system run along similar lines. Book sales crash too hard and rockets launch too fast. Vary it up so that authors can actually claw their ways up the ranks. And when it comes time to fade, let them parachute gradually rather than smashing into a big red writer-shaped puddle.

You’re too volatile, is what I’m saying. Having multiple systems working on 30-day scales isn’t helping anyone except people who understand how to game new releases.


Smashwords needs to quit sucking.

I feel bad for saying this, because Smashwords founder Mark Coker is pretty cool, and a definite friend of indies. But at this point, his ebook distribution service doesn’t offer a whole lot of value. It’s good to use if you don’t have a Mac and want to be on iTunes. It’s nice if you don’t live in the US but want to distribute to B&N. And it’s useful to get out to all those other tiny stores where nobody sells anything but you may as well be there because hey why not. Oh, and it lets you put free books on B&N, which is awesome for you but seems kind of useless for Smashwords.

Otherwise, there is no benefit to uploading through Smashwords instead of going direct to all the places that let you go direct (as of this writing, that includes [with some caveats] Amazon, B&N, Kobo, and the iBookstore).

On the contrary, Smashwords distribution can actually hurt you in a lot of ways. The Meatgrinder forces you to use .docs rather than the epubs that are industry-standard elsewhere. That means an additional round of formatting for many authors. Even .doc-users have to meet Smashwords’ rather rigid style guide. Smashwords doesn’t categorize books all that accurately, either, leaving your books in a wasteland of discoverability when they are pushed to other markets. And changes made to your books on Smashwords can take weeks or even months to filter through to the other stores.

I mean, Smashwords could be a pretty good service for a lot of authors, specifically the subset that wants to just buckle down and write rather than micromanaging their books on all the various vendors. Upload to Smashwords, distribute widely, collect checks, party party. I am far too data/control-neurotic to do that, but that is a valuable service. No joke.

But not accepting epubs and having very specific formatting requirements for .docs makes it less convenient to go through them, and their general sluggishness makes it excessively difficult to run effective sales or promotions. In fact, given pricematching between stores, having delayed price changes can result in authors losing hundreds or thousands of dollars when Amazon slashes their book prices down to match prices on Sony that should have been changed a month ago.

So there you go, SW. Get faster, get more precise in areas like category mapping, and accept epubs. I’m sure that’s just as easy as I’ve made it sound.

Everyone except Kobo and the iBookstore needs to improve their customer service.

Kobo and iBookstore: awesome. Knowledgable, prompt, helpful, eager. Everyone else: terrible. Take a lap.

B&N’s customer service department has apparently all been zapped to Lost, because they don’t respond at all anymore. Amazon has no phone number for emergencies and their representatives are inconsistent at best. Smashwords is small and can take a long time to reply. Sony says, “Sorry, take it up with Smashwords.”

I know this stuff costs a lot of money. But two stores are doing it right. If you can afford to step up your CS game, look to Kobo and Apple.

Sony needs to exist.

That place is just a myth, right? A land of makebelieve sales? As far as ebookstores, the more the merrier, as far as I’m concerned. Out of roughly 14,000 books sold this year, I think about a dozen of those were on Sony. That is probably being generous. Sony: please prove you exist.

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