I write YA spec fiction too, Christine, and you’re absolutely right about the shrinking markets. I put together a list of potential publishers for my novel several years ago, and since then more than a third have either gone out of business or dropped their YA or spec fic line, so I can attest to what you’re saying.
There’s a bigger question everyone in publishing has been ignoring, an 800 lb. gorilla in the room no one wants to acknowledge, and that’s the horrible waste and inefficiency of the “traditional” publishing model. By waste I’m referring to the books that never get sold and end up in the landfills. Determining print runs- especially for new authors- seems more art than science, and way too often publishers get it way wrong. Unsold books returned to publishers, remainders that nobody wants even at 90% off, the stacks of mass market paperbacks with their covers torn off that get carted away with the trash…it’s not exactly an ecological disaster, but the truth is few manufacturing processes pollute more than the paper mills, primarily water pollution. (U.S. paper mills have cleaned up their act somewhat, but not so the growing number of foreign paper mills, where there ain’t no environmental laws.) The “traditional” way of publishing only ensures that this waste continues.
I’ll give you an example that really struck home with me.
I went into one of these remainder “bookstores” where everything’s at least 50% off. Perhaps you’ve seen one in your neighborhood. They typically take over a vacated store, roll out a banner over the door, and get books delivered by the skid. They’ve got everything- textbooks, dictionaries, fiction galore, you name it. (No publisher is immune to significant returns, apparently.) Sometimes they make an effort to sort things out on folding tables, and other times patrons have to dig through giant boxes of jumbled books to find something of interest. Either way, these books are the orphans of the publishing industry that have gone begging, profiting no one but the somewhat fly-by-night “bookstore” owners. (These stores typically disappear overnight when a long-term tenant finally signs a lease.) I had a conversation with the operator of one these stores last year, and the short version of the conversation went something like this:
Me: “What happens to all these books when you have to move out? Do you take them with you?”
She: “Sure, if I have another place to sell them. Sometimes it’s cheaper to toss them than store them, especially the duds. (Her word exactly.) I can always get more.”
Me: “You throw them out? Don’t you recycle them?”
She: “I don’t know what the garbage company does with them. Maybe.”
Ouch.
So have to combat this inefficiency and waste? Well, I think it’s already starting to change, and the POD technology (if not the business model) is helping. Since I write spec fiction, here’s my vision for the brick-and-mortar bookstore of the future:
You walk into a store with several kiosks. In each kiosk is a computer and monitor connected to a database of all books in print. You look up what you’re interested in either by title, author or subject, and you can read most (if not all) of the book to see if it’s what you’re looking for. (The database can even suggest similar books based on content or style.) There might even be a knowledgeable, real live person there who can help you find what you’re looking for if you need the help. After you make your selection, you make your payment and the file for that book is downloaded to an unattended machine by the exit that will print the book in any format you specify. In just a few minutes, your book slides down a chute into your waiting hands and away you go, a happy new book owner. No fuss, no muss, no waste.
You can even make you purchase from home and have the book printed locally for pickup or delivery. (Kind of like buying locally grown produce to cut down on your carbon footprint.)
This doesn’t eliminate waste entirely, but it sure reduces it. Truth be told, the current, antiquated method of “traditional” publishing with it’s wasteful, speculative print runs is nothing but a sorry dinosaur, and the sooner it rides off into the sunset, the better off we’ll be.