Neither garlic nor holy water could ward off the country’s taste for vampires this holiday season. The vampire/human couple at the heart of Stephenie Meyer’s wildly successful Twilight book series stole the hearts of preteen girls nationwide—studios rushed to produce a movie version, news magazines splashed headlines like “A New J.K. Rowling?”, and Amazon reported that it had sold enough copies of the fourth “Twilight” book to scale Mt. Everest eight times.

But tucked into this seemingly clear-cut success story is a harrowing prophecy for publishing. After the Twilight series became popular, an early draft of the next book was illegally posted online and downloaded rampantly. Meyer stopped writing the book in protest, much to the horror of her tween fans.

The publishing industry largely chose to ignore this incident or to brush off Meyer’s response as overreacting, but it should have taken the downloaders seriously. For this episode contains a clear imperative: If books are to remain profitable, publishers must imitate the music industry and see artistic content as a gateway to more profitable ventures.

Those who downloaded the book are next generation consumers, who see ducking payment for artistic content—CDs, movies, cable TV—as something no more serious than lifting paper cups from the dining hall. They get their songs and movies free and give them freely. Unlike their parents, they’re not fazed by LCD screens; they e-read on their laptops and smart phones more than they read on paper. Why pay $20 for a book, they ask, when you can download it for free? And these consumers will not suddenly become accustomed to buying books as they grow older; instead, they’ll pass this instinct on to their kids.

So what will happen when people stop purchasing books? If they continue to do nothing, publishers will have to lean on extra-book sources of revenue that already exist. Books will be published because of an author’s book tour charisma or the price their storyline fetches from a film studio or video game maker, rather than for their innovative content. This approach does not bode well for either literature or the industry in the long run, but right now it is the only Plan B in place.

To avoid this sad scenario, publishers should look to the music industry. Despite the ruckus it is raising over illegal file sharing, record companies have quietly adjusted themselves to the reality of downloading. CDs and MP3s are now only at the surface of what they sell; related products such as concert tours, posters, and ringtones generate a significant cut of the total revenue. In 2008, while album sales fell 14 percent, concert ticket sales rose seven percent. And next time someone’s cell phone goes off to the deepening downbeat of “Disturbia,” consider that 20 percent of Rihanna’s revenue comes from the sale of ringtones. This innovative mentality is saving the music business, without undermining the business of music.

Publishers must do the same thing to transform books from a dead-end product to a revenue generator. Right now, consumers’ investment in books begins and ends at the Barnes & Noble counter. An average fan of “The Kite Runner” probably wouldn’t watch an online video of author Khaled Hosseini reading out loud, pay money to attend a book signing, or buy a poster of the book. It’s not that they’re against the idea; most of the time, the thought simply hasn’t crossed their mind.

Promoting this kind of mixed media would therefore be an effective way of revitalizing the book industry, for books have so much potential to go beyond the printed page. Publishers could introduce and market new dimensions of the reading experience—promoting promising authors more exuberantly, or introducing additional online content such as e-discussion groups and original character sketches, for example.

Luckily, the industry has a grace period to make adjustments. Books are in no rush to move online; Amazon is currently the only big e-book publisher. It is tedious to manually scan hundreds of pages, and the new generation of consumers often has homework, finals, or primal screams to attend to. Nevertheless, as the demand for e-books grows, bookstores should watch their backs—someday, you may have to look for your course packs online. You might not even have to wait for someday: students deterred by the price of the $60 Ec 1010a workbook can already download a free copy on Scribd.com.


Anita J Joseph ’12, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Wigglesworth Hall.