by Michael W. Sherer, thriller author
We humans are social creatures. We’re stronger in community
than we are alone because we’re able to share thoughts and ideas, to
collaborate and cooperate on every aspect of life, from researching the causes
of disease to building enormously tall buildings.
One of the ways in which we share our knowledge is through
organizations of like-minded people. Craft guilds—part professional
association, part trade union and sometimes cartel or secret society—have been
around for centuries. Artisans formed these trade guilds to pass on the secrets
of their craft, and so they’d have each other’s backs in business ventures and
times of adversity.
Guilds persist today mostly in the form of professional
trade groups and unions, but some retain the purpose of training “journeymen” in
the art of a particular profession, like plumbers, enabling them to pass
licensing tests.
When I was a fledgling author, I looked forward to the day
when I could join a professional writers group. I joined other trade
associations relevant to my career—International Foodservice Editorial Council,
Public Relations Society of America and North American Foodservice Equipment
Manufacturers, to name a few. But my heart was set on being a member of Mystery
Writers of America.
When my first book was published in 1988, the first thing I
did (besides cash the advance check) was sign up for MWA. My membership
entitled me to attend regional chapter meetings. The Midwest region met in
Chicago, at Binyon’s restaurant, and I attended regularly to see what
professional writers did at these meetings. Not too much, it turned out, other
than have a few drinks and a so-so meal while trading tall tales and listening
to an invited speaker talk about his or her area of expertise.
The drinks, tall tales and camaraderie formed the basis for friendships
among peers. The speakers served as a form of education. To my surprise and
dismay, what I didn’t get out of the association was any sort of
representation. Naively, I hoped that in addition to a modest discount on
rental cars, the organization would offer me health insurance at group rates,
or beyond dinner and drinks it would lobby on my behalf with publishers to
offer better royalty schedules and more intelligible statements. After all,
there is a professional writing guild—Writers Guild (West and East)—that
provides benefits such as these to its members.
(To its credit, MWA now (finally) offers real education in writing to unpublished or newly published writers through its MWA University, but ITW has been offering continuing education practically out of the gate at ThrillerFest through CraftFest and AgentFest.)
They say if you don’t like something, change it. So I got
involved and was elected vice president of MWA Midwest giving me a voice in the
national organization. I made suggestions, proposed changes, participated in
national board discussions and even went to national meetings in New York. “But
we don’t do that sort of thing,” was the basic reply to most questions such as
why don’t we lobby publishers for standardized, understandable royalty
statements.
Instead what I saw was petty political infighting, the
resignation of luminaries like Hilary Waugh from the board because of the
negative environment and little progress. About the only thing that I helped
accomplish in two years on the board was the creation of a skills bank, a
repository of expertise among members that other member authors could call on
(this in the days before the Internet and Google made research so easy).
My publisher at the time dropped me, and I quit MWA for a
number of years. When I finally found another publisher nearly a decade later,
I joined the Authors Guild. Surely, I thought, this august group would do more
to lobby on my behalf for better treatment and terms from traditional
publishers. At the very least, AG offered web-hosting at a reasonable cost.
But AG has gone astray, its leadership like that of the
Teamsters more interested in preserving the status quo for itself. To wit, in
mid-December, Joe Konrath and Barry Eisler took AG president Scott Turow and
member Richard Russo to task on Joe’s blog (
http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/2013_12_13_archive.html)
for a membership recruitment letter Russo wrote at Turow’s
behest. In it, Joe and Barry ask good questions and propose some interesting
alternatives. Here are some excerpts:
Joe: My reading of Turow's words is that he cares
about the Authors Guild, wants it to continue (self-renew), and needs authors
to do so.
Isn't that backwards? Shouldn't Turow be concerned
with what the Guild can do for authors, and not what authors can do for the
Guild? Isn't the whole point of the Guild to help authors, and not simply to
acquire as many authors as possible so the Guild can continue to exist?
Barry: Or--crazy idea, I know--writers could even
make decisions for themselves. Or, if they want to act collectively, they could
form a guild that’s worthy of the name (though I’d recommend calling it a union
rather than a guild, unless the idea really is to use a medieval term to
signify the organization is archaic). We would know if such a union exists by
whether it’s able to get legacy publishers to change some of their more
antediluvian and draconian practices (again, 25% lockstep digital royalties,
etc, etc). Richard? Scott? Could you share some of those successes with the
authors you’re attempting to bring in on your process of self-renewal? If not,
then leaving aside for the moment the medievalism of the terminology, why are
you calling yourself a guild?
It’s a serious question. Here, I’m a skeptical
author. Can you demonstrate to me how the Authors Guild represents my interests
in any way that’s meaningfully adverse to legacy publishing? Can you provide
any case studies of circumstances where legacy publishers were treating authors
poorly, and you were able to effect meaningful change beneficial to authors? I
don’t know why you would have left such evidence out of your letter (after all,
you’ve pointed out that you disdain evidence-free argument).
Joe: Could you [Richard Russo] assume, for a
moment, that perhaps the Big 5 treat Pulitzer winners and bestselling authors a
bit better than they treat all other authors?
Perhaps you and Scott [Turow] were able to play a
part in the relationship between art and commerce because your publishers
allowed it. Perhaps you got better ebook royalty rates than your peers (and
then had to sign NDAs saying you can never admit it publicly). Perhaps you had
a say so in the price of your books, your distribution, your titles, your cover
art.
The rest of us--the mid-list majority that the
Authors Guild purports to represent--were not treated like you and Scott were.
But now, for the first time, we can directly reach
readers. We aren't simply part of the conversation about the relationship
between art and commerce--we directly make decisions about that
relationship.
Richard: To that end we’d do well
to speak with one voice,
Barry: You mean… act like a
union? Collective bargaining? Wring more favorable terms from the industry that
in lockstep pays authors a mere 25% in digital royalties, and deigns to pay us
only twice a year? After all, they need our content!
“We don't need writing
organizations (MWA, Authors Guild) who don't look out for our
interests.
“Here's what we need:
“a) An independent journal that
reviews and recommends self-pubbed titles to readers and libraries. One that
doesn't charge authors anything.
“b) A writing organization and
annual conference where indie authors get together to share information and
help one another. Something that gives us leveraging power in the industry.
Something with imprimatur, that will let readers know they are guaranteed
quality.”
Sign me up, Joe. That’s the kind of professional
organization I want to be part of.
What do you think? Do you belong to a professional group?
Does it serve your needs?
Michael W. Sherer is the
author of Night Tide, the second novel in the Blake Sanders thriller
series. The first in the Seattle-based series, Night Blind, was
nominated for an ITW Thriller Award in 2013. His other books include the
award-winning Emerson Ward mystery series, the stand-alone suspense novel, IslandLife, and the Tess Barrett YA thriller series.
