he may wait long before he is printed. The pressure
is so great in these avenues to the public favor that
one, two, three years, are no uncommon periods of
delay. If the young writer has not the patience
for this, or has a soul above cooling his heels in
the courts of fame, or must do his best to earn something
at once, the book is his immediate hope. How
slight a hope the book is I have tried to hint already,
but if a book is vulgar enough in sentiment, and crude
enough in taste, and flashy enough in incident, or,
better or worse still, if it is a bit hot in the mouth,
and promises impropriety if not indecency, there is
a very fair chance of its success; I do not mean success
with a self-respecting publisher, but with the public,
which does not personally put its name to it, and
is not openly smirched by it. I will not talk
of that kind of book, however, but of the book which
the young author has written out of an unspoiled heart
and an untainted mind, such as most young men and
women write; and I will suppose that it has found
a publisher. It is human nature, as competition
has deformed human nature, for the publisher to wish
the author to take all the risks, and he possibly
proposes that the author shall publish it at his own
expense, and let him have a percentage of the retail
price for managing it. If not that, he proposes
that the author shall pay for the stereotype plates,
and take fifteen per cent. of the price of the book;
or if this will not go, if the author cannot, rather
than will not, do it (he is commonly only too glad
to do any thing he can), then the publisher offers
him ten per cent. of the retail price after the first
thousand copies have been sold. But if he fully
believes in the book, he will give ten per cent. from
the first copy sold, and pay all the costs of publication
himself. The book is to be retailed for a dollar
and a half, and the publisher is not displeased with
a new book that sells fifteen hundred copies.
Whether the author has as much reason to be pleased
is a question, but if the book does not sell more
he has only himself to blame, and had better pocket
in silence the two hundred and twenty-five dollars
he gets for it, and bless his publisher, and try to
find work somewhere at five dollars a week. The
publisher has not made any more, if quite as much
as the author, and until a book has sold two thousand
copies the division is fair enough. After that,
the heavier expenses of manufacturing have been defrayed
and the book goes on advertising itself; there is
merely the cost of paper, printing, binding, and marketing
to be met, and the arrangement becomes fairer and
fairer for the publisher. The author has no right
to complain of this, in the case of his first book,
which he is only too grateful to get accepted at all.
If it succeeds, he has himself to blame for making
the same arrangement for his second or third; it is
his fault, or else it is his necessity, which is practically
the same thing. It will be business for the publisher
to take advantage of his necessity quite the same
as if it were his fault; but I do not say that he
will always do so; I believe he will very often not
do so.