It’s Calliope? What’s Calliope?
Well, plenty of things, actually. Calliope was the Muse of Epic Poetry, back when the Greek Gods ran the world. Since then, the name has been applied to (amongst other things) a hummingbird, a font, an asteroid, a saint, a river, a housing project, five Royal Navy ships and a host of other things. And it’s pronounced with the emphasis on the second syllable: Ca-LYE-o-pi.
The name was also given to a steam-driven fairground organ, which you can read about here. I’d rather like to own one of these, though the horses might be high-maintenance.
And in the spring of 2013, Calliope will be a retail business operating from a physical shop and a virtual website, selling gifts, books and all manner of attractive things, and run by my old colleague and friend Andy Adamson, and me.
Of course, there’ll be more to tell when we have a business to launch, but in the meantime, here’s what Benedicte Page had to say about us in The Bookseller:
Downer to open new store:
06.12.12 | Benedicte Page | The Bookseller
Former Borders UK c.e.o. Philip Downer is to open a new store, selling books, gifts and other merchandise, in the spring.
The shop, named Calliope, will be opened in an undisclosed Surrey location for which the lease is currently under negotiation. Downer will run the shop in partnership with former Borders colleague Andy Adamson, who is handling commercial relationships with vendors. A recruitment process has begun for a store manager, with applications welcome. Conversations with publishers are already underway.
Downer, who announced the venture at a meeting of The Galley Club last night (5th December), said: “We envisage a store and an online offer with a combination of books, gifts and other merchandise. I’ve been saying for some time that bookshops have to diversity and that being an expert 100% bookshop shows a profound failure to understand how customer expectations have changed. There is an opportunity to sell quality books to a broad consumer audience.”
Downer declined to give details on what percentage of his offer would be books, saying the volume and proportion of books within the retail offer would vary “according to season and customer demand”. They will, however, all be beautifully produced volumes, books “of quality, inside and out”, he promised. “I was a judge in the British Book Design and Production Awards and spent two days looking at these fantastic books and recognising that we have the design and production capability in this country to produce truly beautiful, attractive books. It is interesting the extent to which some of the major publishers is grasping that nettle.”
The bookshop will have an “interesting and extensive” but as yet unspecified online offer and will also act as a community resource, Downer said.
The name “Calliope” refers to the music of epic poetry, but Downer said he was more inspired by the old steam organ of the same name towed around the country by horses, the “explosive fairground noises” of which feature on one of the songs on “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”.
Calliope is already on Twitter, at @CalliopeGifts, so do follow us and keep in touch with developments, as we move from being a great idea to becoming a great shop.
In the meantime, I’ll be undertaking at least ten somersets on solid ground. Have a good Christmas, and don’t forget, shopping at local stores keeps your economy and community alive – and their taxes pay for the services you use.
I spent Monday with the Booksellers Association Conference at the University of Warwick, and wrote up my immediate reactions in this piece, published by The Bookseller.
I do believe that there is a robust future for the best independent bookshops. But they’ll have to evolve, and to stay ahead of their customers’ expectations rather than trailing behind them. I hope that bookshop owners, publishers and their trade associations can work together to ensure that there is still a role for these businesses.
Do add your comments.
Format change in action – a couple of examples from history:
1. Movies and TV: in the late 40s/early 50s, movie companies fought broadcasters to protect their industry against the upstart television. Their frontal attack failed, and consumption of moving pictures largely moved from the cinema to the home. TV developed wholly new formats (game shows, chat shows), but also reformatted drama (soap operas, seasonal series) beyond what the movies had ever been able to achieve. Much of the talent that had worked exclusively in the cinema found new ways to make new livings.
2. Counter service grocers and self-service supermarkets: another mid-century change. The economies of scale, and the ease with which savings could be passed on to the customer, rendered counter-service stores rapidly obsolete. Supermarkets sold bulk and sold convenience; as the years passed, they progressively improved product quality, all the time managing value.
In both cases, “big business” created the format shift – just as big businesses have created ereaders and tablets; but thereafter, they had to develop those formats as dictated by the customers. Publishers in the post-paper world will have to do the same.
Indeed, pbooks are set to join cinemas and small food stores on the junk heap of history – until they reinvent themselves anew for an ebook audience. But that will have to wait another 10-20 years – a cycle of decline, to be followed by a renaissance in a new and different form?
Hitch: http://jimberkin.wordpress.com; supermarket: business-school.exeter.ac.uk
Some Twittering this morning, inspired by a couple of articles spotted by Jellybooks‘ Andrew Rhomberg. One is a market report from Publishing News, the other a blog entry distributed by ebookporn.
Low prices are transforming ebook buying behaviour from “buying to read” to “buying to collect” http://ebookporn.tumblr.com/post/28845301698/why-publishers-are-having-difficulty-settling-on-a …
Collect, or just accumulate?
bit of both? Some is accumulate “wanted to read” (and then forgot), but also collect “don’t want to miss out” (deal!)
the post certain rang a bell with me in that ebook buying and physical book buying are evolving somewhat differently
you now have genuine impulse buying from the comfort of your home and at genuine “impulse prices”
Front list/back list ratio is 40/60 for print, books, but 20/80 for ebooks! http://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/bookselling/article/53430-what-happened-to-the-long-tail-.html …
Concepts like frontlist/backlist, based on print runs/reviews/marketing, increasingly redundant in ebook world.
PN notes that Nielsen Bookscan has reported a fall of 30%, almost one-third, in US sales of fiction backlist titles in printed book form, for the period ending 22nd July 2012, compared to one year earlier.
The shift in market shape is accelerating, not slowing down, with the article noting a significant fall in physical book space at retail outlets (over and above Borders’ US closure). One major American publishing group is reporting that 80% of backlist sales are now in ebook format – the pbook long tail is getting shorter and shorter. Assuming Amazon still accounts for a large part of those backlist sales, backlist bread-and-butter in bookshops must be looking very stumpy indeed. And without backlist sales to prop up the discounted frontlist, the book-specific store model looks very troubled. Booksellers need to diversify, and to recognise that the “general bookstore” is probably unsustainable.
But hell, you know that already. What’s piqued my interest today is the effect that all of this will have on publishers – and not so much on the grand strategies of media groups (many of which are quite forward-looking), but more on the basics of seasonality, range management and changing consumption patterns.
Amazon made one of their opaque announcements this week, proclaiming that for every 100 physical paperbacks and hardbacks they had sold in 2012, UK customers had downloaded 114 titles to its Kindle e-reader. Such is Amazon’s dominance in the UK book market that this was headlined “Readers are now buying more e-books than printed books“, ignoring the enfeebled minority of book-lovers who are doltish enough not to use Amazon.
Ebook customers aren’t behaving like pbook customers. Are you a traditional “heavy book buyer”? If so, how many books might you buy for yourself at a time – four, five? Any more, and the weight/bulk will be too much to carry, and once you get home, there’s the imputation that all those pages piled up at your bedside must be read.
Whereas ebooks – pah, easy. Click, download. Click, download. Moby-Dick – always meant to read that. Click, download. À la recherche du temps perdu, twelve volumes for £3.25 – no problem. Click, download. Having it on your Kindle is almost tantamount to reading the thing anyway.
Back to that ebookporn piece. As the writer notes, people are downloading “huge chunks of content that will never be read”. The piece concludes:
If your download 70 books at $0.99 each you are spending $70 and acquiring years of books to read. Very soon this reader stops purchasing and that sales bubble bursts.
If instead they were to spend not $70 for 70 books but $7 a month for access to 7 million books this reader spends $84 a year, year in and year out. Knowledge is light and it stands to reason that access to all books can be sold like a utility such as electricity, water, and internet access.
This is what might be described, broadly speaking, as the Spotify principle, and it’s one that slashes through publishing, bookshops and libraries as we know them. Which has more value to a reader who has no desire to surround him/herself with dead tree content – 70 ebooks, most of them unread and never-to-be-read, or an almost infinite quantity of content, from classics to trash, all available from the cloud at a moment’s notice?
This brings us back to frontlist and backlist. I can understand how new ebook content can break through and succeed, whether a title starts with word-of-mouth build, typical of self-published hits, or is driven by a professional marketing campaign. However, that approach divides ebooks into Monster Hits and Everything Else. When publishers were putting out a few dozen pbook titles each season, they were reasonably certain that most bookstores would carry/display/promote most of those titles. The books would get their place in the sun, and then (if they’d sold a few copies) earn a position in the backlist, where sales could tick over unto eternity. They would move from frontlist to backlist; most of them heading ultimately to oblivion, and few lasting for lifetimes.
There is no straightforward translation of this old world into the land of ebooks, where hits will be bigger and faster, but will probably also be forgotten more swiftly. The solution, of course, is not to try and force a frontlist/backlist pbook mindset on the ebook world, but to adapt methods that works best for readers – who now have the freedom to behave in a totally different, less considered way.
Note, methods. Sales will fluctuate; surge, recede and return again. Content will no longer be defined by its copyright date, but by its relevance to a particular reader’s needs. Publishers will require a whole range of different sales tactics which are reliant on understanding the end customer. This is best achieved through partnership with sellers, sharing sales data and market understanding, though it runs counter to Amazon’s established strategy – Seattle is determined to hold on to its data and control the customer relationship.
The “Spotify” approach is a rational response to the hangover that will follow downloading excess; alternatively, publishers may have to assume that a high proportion of ebooks will be sampled, but never read, and price them accordingly. Neither solution represents a straightforward “format shift” (in the way that hardcovers were succeeded by paperbacks in the mid 20th century). Consumers aren’t thinking in those terms, so publishers are going to have to change their model fundamentally. And because the book has been such a successful object for so many centuries, that’s a difficult shift for people and corporations alike. Ask any old bookseller – we know…
And to close, a gratuitous photo of about seventy pbooks, all of them pretty well-read…
I’ve written a column for The Bookseller on Sainsbury’s acquisition of the majority of the Anobii business from HMV – you can read it here:
To read more on the background to the deal, click here.
Philip Jones, deputy editor of The Bookseller, presents The Naked Book, a fortnightly radio show “dedicated to ripping the covers off print books and finding out what lies beneath”.
I was invited to participate in the most recent edition, Face the Bafflement and Do It Anyway, where I was joined by Dublin publisher/commentator Eoin Purcell, and Laura Owen of New York City’s Paid Content. We covered the waterfront at an indecent speed, and with a high degree of candour, and low levels of obeisance. It’s the longest day today, and it’s pouring with rain – what better way to pass an hour than to log in and enjoy.
You can listen to the broadcast here.
I’ve written a piece for Retail Week about Waterstones and Amazon, published today. You don’t need a subscription to access it, though you will need to log on: