King's Letters Regarding The Plant

(12-15-00) -->From Time magazine, regarding the temporary cessation of The Plant:

How I Got That Story
The novelist ponders the lessons he's learned from cyberpublishing

BY STEPHEN KING

In July of this year, I began publishing a serial novel at my website, stephenking.com. The idea was one episode a month, pay as you go...and pay by the honor system. My inspiration was the newspaper vendors in New York City during the first half of the century. Many of those hired for the job were blind, because the distribs felt that even slightly dishonest people wouldn't steal from a blind newsboy. My experiment has far from run its course, but the first phase of it concludes later this month, when Part 6 of The Plant--by far the longest--goes up, this time for free.

In the modest hoopla that has surrounded the publication of The Plant, very few media analysts bothered to talk about the story itself (possibly because they didn't bother to read it). The Plant happens to be about a voracious supernatural vine that begins to grow wild in a paperback publishing house. It offers success, riches and the always desirable Bigger Market Share. All it wants from you in return is a little flesh...a little blood...and maybe a piece of your soul. What made The Plant such a hilarious Internet natural (at least to my admittedly twisted mind) was that publishers and media people seem to see exactly this sort of monster whenever they contemplate the Net in general and e-lit in particular: a troublesome strangler fig that just might have a bit o' the old profit in it. If, that is, it's handled with gloves.

The most dismaying thing I learned in the course of The Plant's run (a run that's not over but only lying dormant until next summer) is that there's a profound crevasse of misunderstanding between the smart guys of the business world and the talented goofballs who make entertainment in this increasingly entertainment-hungry society. Publishers, investors and media watchers see a venture like The Plant and say, "Ah, King is moving into e-commerce!" in the tones of 1940s newscasters relaying the news that Hitler is moving east. King, in the meantime, is thinking something along the lines of, "Hey guys! My uncle's got a barn! Let's put on a show!" It's a goofy thing, in other words. Not a business thing at all. Which, may I add, isn't the same thing as saying there's no money in it. Or cultural clout. Just ask the goofball who thought up Napster.

Am I displeased with how things have turned out? Nope. I've had terrific fun working on The Plant, and so far it's grossed about $600,000. It may end up over a million (the figures will be posted on the website early next year, down to the last crying dime). Those aren't huge numbers in today's book market, but The Plant--pay attention, now, because this is the important part--is not a book. Right now it exists as nothing but electronic bits and bytes dancing gaily in cyberspace. Yes, it's been downloaded by hundreds of thousands of people, either in its various parts or in its entirety, and some readers may have printed hard copies (even decorated them like medieval monks illuminating manuscripts, for all I know), but mostly it's just an electronic mirage floating out there all by itself, like Samuel Coleridge's stately pleasure dome, with no printing costs, publisher's cuts or agents' fees to pull it down. Advertising aside (I did some, not much), costs are low to the point of nonexistence, and the profit potential is unlimited.

Do Parts 1 through 6 constitute an entire novel? In the sense that there's a beginning, a middle and a resolution, yes. Readers will be as satisfied as they would be with, say, the first volume of a trilogy like Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials (not that I am claiming the same literary quality; never think that). Right now I'm returning to print publishing because I love it and because I have a contract to fulfill--two books remaining.

Is there anything about the coverage of Steve's Excellent Adventure that bothers me? Probably the implication that by using the honor system, I was either displaying a naive belief in the honesty of my fellow man or (worse) indulging in a bit of electronic bungee jumping. Neither one. By offering the story in installments and promising to pull the plug if payments fell off, I felt that I had armed myself with a stick to protect my carrot. It worked, too. Part 5 payments fell steeply, but only after I announced the venture was nearing its end. I'm afraid that did bring on a certain amount of looting.

The real test of The Plant's marketplace viability may come in late December and January, when Philtrum Press--my publishing company, which has offered books at odd intervals for almost 20 years--will e-market all six parts (The Plant, Book One: The Rise of Zenith) for $7, about the price of a paperback. And for that, my friend, you'll need your credit card.

My mamma didn't raise no fools.

(From The New York Times, a response to an editorial about the cessation of The Plant...)

By Stephen King

In a December 1st editorial titled "King's Closure," the New York Times states, "…one reads Stephen King novels in a single gulp. Their chief effect is suspense of a kind that cannot be drawn out over months." Surely whoever wrote that particular opinion can't have much acquaintance with the Times's own bestseller lists. In 1996 I published a novel called The Green Mile in six installments, and the experiment was a roaring commercial success. At one point, all six chapbooks were on the Times paperback bestseller list at the same time, causing the folks who craft the lists to change their way of listing such endeavors (serial novels are now accorded only a single slot on the Times list, no matter how many installments they may include).

John Saul later published a similar novel in six parts, and enjoyed similar success. Interestly enough, Jackie Collins's foray into the serial novel field was less popular, perhaps because it was not a suspense story. Contrary to what the Times editorial department may think, tales of suspense almost cry out for serialization. They don't call them "cliffhangers" for nothing.

I learned a great many interesting things in the course of The Plant's run on the Internet (a run that's not over, incidentally, but only in hiatus). Perhaps the most dismaying is the profound misunderstanding most business people seem to have concerning how entertainment-which is mostly produced by talented goofballs-interfaces with the business potential they see (or think they see) in the web. One thing seems clear to me: what works on TV, in the movies, and in popular fiction doesn't work in the same way on the Net. A great many business ventures (and not a few fortunes) have already crashed as a result of that erroneous assumption.

Popular entertainments have a place on the Net, but finding the most efficient ways to make them work is a trial and error process. Most people who invest big money in flossy entertainment websites are going to find themselves out of luck, out of dough, and scratching their heads. People who start out just to have fun-to goof around, in other words-are going to find some Napster-sized pots of gold. Profit never comes first, though. What comes first is something like, "Gosh, I've got an idea and my uncle's got a barn-let's put on a show!" There's a lot of available barn space on the Internet, and a lot of people are going to put on shows. I was delighted to be one of the first, and I'm not done yet. Goodness, why would I be? I'm having a hell of a good time.

The Plant will end up grossing at least $600,000, and may end up over a million. These are not huge numbers in today's book market, but The Plant-pay attention, now, because this is the important part-is not a book. Right now it exists as nothing but electronic bits and bytes dancing gaily in cyberspace. Yes, it's been downloaded by a hundred thousand or so people, and some of them have printed hard copies (hand-bound them just like medieval manuscripts, too, for all I know), but mostly it's just an electronic mirage floating out there all by itself like Coleridge's stately pleasure dome, with no printing costs, publisher's cuts, or agents' fees to pull it down. Advertising aside (and finding the correct advertising venues for internet users is a whole other issue), costs are nonexistent and the profit potential is unlimited.

I see three large problems. One is that most Internet users seem to have the attention span of grasshoppers. Another is that Internet users have gotten used to the idea that most of what's available to them on the Net is either free or should be. The third-and biggest-is that book-readers don't regard electronic books as real books. They're like people saying, "I love corn on the cob but creamed corn makes me gag." Since The Plant experiment began in July, I've had dozens of people come up to me and say that they can't wait to read the story…when it's in book form. They either don't go on the Web, don't go on it for anything but e-mail, or just don't think of reading online, even if what they're reading has been printed out in the privacy of their own homes, as real reading. To them, it's creamed corn. And it makes them gag.

In this last fact, I see a tremendous opportunity. In truth, I don't believe the on-line publication of The Plant has done more than graze whatever potential it might have as a book. The two markets aren't quite apples and oranges, but there is still only a small overlap. In other words, we seem to have discovered an entirely new dimension to the sort of publishing which used to be called "first serial rights." Only instead of generating ten or twenty or perhaps even fifty thousand dollars for pre-publication print rights (in a traditional magazine like Cosmopolitan or Rolling Stone, let us say), we're talking about much bigger numbers.

None of this is a bad thing or a good thing. Neither is any of it a sure-fire thing. Like the more traditional artistic endeavors, it's a goofy thing. A fun thing. Neither the sums generated nor the future of publishing is the point. The point is trying some new things; pushing some new buttons and seeing what happens.

Steve's Comments:

Steve's Comments:

July 11, 2000

To: Constant Reader/Constant Webhead

Subject: The Plant Update

Hey, this is Steve. Sorry I didn't get to the update when I said I would, but Philtrum Press consists of two people, Marsha DeFilippo and me. So cut us a little slack, okay? This shouldn't take too long, anyway. You don't have to be a rocket scientist, as they say.

What It Is

It's The Plant, an epistolary novel set in the early 1980s (before e-mail, in other words, and when even the fax was a fringe technology). It'll be presented in parts ranging from 5000 to 7000 words. The story is sort of funny and at the same time pretty gruesome (think Christine). I'm committed to publishing at least the first two segments. Whether or not I publish more depends.

Depends on What?

In the words of The Turtles, "You, baby, nobody but you." If you pay, the story rolls. If you don't, the story folds.

How Much?

Buck an episode. When Installment One appears, send me the payment-we'll give you all the how-tos then. My friends, we have a chance to become Big Publishing's worst nightmare. Not only are we going glueless, look Ma, no e-Book! No tiresome encryption! Want to print it and show it to a friend? Go ahead! There's only one catch: all this is on the honor system. Has to be. I'm counting on two things. The first is plain old honesty. "Take what you want and pay for it," as the old saying goes. The second is that you'll like the story enough to want to read more. If you do want more, you have to pay. Remember: Pay and the story rolls. Steal and the story folds. No stealing from the blind newsboy!

What I Promise

1. To publish the first 10,000 or so words of The Plant in two installments, no matter what. Installment One goes up on this site July 24^th; Installment Two will appear August 21^st.
2. If response is good and the pay-through equals or exceeds 75%, Installment Three will go up in September.
3. When Installment Three goes up, Installment One goes down.
4. If response is strong, I promise to carry The Plant through to its conclusion. I won't leave you hanging, in other words.
5. Above item is cancelled if I die.
6. If response is weak, I promise to pull the plug after Installment Two.

What You Promise

1. To pay for each installment of The Plant, and to pay each time you download it. Look at it this way: you couldn't go into a bookstore and say, "I bought a copy of The Street Lawyer in here yesterday, so give me four more for free today." Get it?
2. Not to print extra copies and sell them to your friends. If you want to print copies and give them away, I can't stop you (in fact I can't stop you from doing anything, which is the beauty of this thing-think of it as web-moshing). But don't sell them. Two reasons: first, it's against the law, and second, it's nasty behavior. Respect my copyright. As a writer, it's all I've got.

What We'll Have

Fun, fun, fun until Daddy takes the T-Bird away.

If You Have Other Questions

Don't ask em. You won't get answers. Marsha's swamped. So am I. Forgive me for being so blunt, but that's how it is.

If You're Not Satisfied

You're out a buck. Or two. I mean, break my heart.

Will It Work?

My kids, who know a lot more about the Web than I do, say no way. My accountant, the fiscal hardass of all time, says he thinks it will. I don't know. All I know is I've got a hell of a good story to tell, and if you pay me I'll tell it.

Is This The End of Publishing?

Good God, no. I love my editors, and I like my publisher. I also like books. I'm a conservative on this particular subject and I love the smell of glue. But if I could break some trail for all the midlist writers, literary writers, and just plain marginalized writers who see a future outside the mainstream, that's great.

     I hope this answers your questions. Now go be good to someone, and remember: this ain't Napster. Take what you want...and pay for it.

June 7, 2000

Dear Constant Reader,

In the early 1980s, I started an epistolary novel called The Plant. I published limited editions of the first three short volumes, giving them out to friends and relatives (folks who are usually but not always the same) as funky Christmas cards. I gave The Plant up not because I thought it was bad but because other projects intervened. At the time I quit, the work in progress was roughly 25,000 words long. It told the story of a sinister plant-sort of a vampire-vine-that takes over the offices of a paperback publishing company, offering financial success in trade for human sacrifices. The story struck me as both scary and funny. Now it has occurred to me that it might be amusing to put it up on this web-site, in installments of 5000 words each…something like that, anyway. If this idea interests you, will you e-mail the website and say so? By the same token, if it sounds like a bad idea, will you tell me that?

I admit that I have another agenda. I was intrigued by the success of "Riding the Bullet" (stunned would probably be a more accurate word), and since then have been anxious to try something similar, but I've also been puzzling over issues of ownership when it comes to creative work. On one hand I applaud Metallica's decision to try and put a few spikes into the big, cushy radial tire that is Napster, because creative people should be paid for their work just as plumbers and carpenters and accountants are paid for theirs. On the other hand, I think that the current technology is rapidly turning the whole idea of copyright into a risky proposition…not quite a joke, but something close to it. It took hackers only forty-eight to seventy-two hours to bust the encryption on "Bullet" (as Tabitha says, spending invaluable hours to obtain an item that sold for $2.50 and was at many sites given away).

Being something of an optimist about my fellow creatures, I have the idea that most people are honest and will pay for what they get. I'm therefore willing to try selling The Plant on an honor system. Episodes would not be encoded. If you wanted to download the stuff to your printer, you could do that. But you gotta kick a buck; a dollar an episode seems fair enough to me. If it seems fair to you, e-mail the website and say so. If it seems heavy, say that. My purpose here isn't to skin anybody but to have some fun and try out a concept so old it may seem new; call it "honesty is the best policy."

There's only one small catch. If there are 50,000 downloads, I should get something like $50,000. Of course it won't be that much, because there are always going to be cheaters and chintzes in the world (and for some reason they seem to live longer than the rest of us, God knows why). But I could live with a ratio of nine honest folks for every chiseler. Maybe even eight. But I do think you should be able to print what you read, and pass it on if you choose, the same way you might pass on a book you bought to a friend. You may not sell copies, however.

So tell me what you think, keeping in mind that The Plant is an unfinished work (although I reserve the right to continue the story, and to continue posting further installments, if the feedback is positive) and I can't gaurentee you an ending, either happy or sad. And I reserve the right to cease publication if a lot of people steal the story…but I just don't believe that will happen. I mean, we're talking a buck a pop here, right?
Best regards,

Stephen King

25 August 2000

Dear Constant Reader,

For those of you who are interested, here's an update on The Plant as of late August. I judge Part 1 as a considerable success, both in the number of downloads and in the pay-through. The situation with Part 2 is less clear. For one thing, a number of people have experienced problems getting connected and successfully downloading the story. These are technical problems which are being worked out, and all I can say is that if you have had problems, keep trying...and remember what one E-book executive has said: Where we are with this new form is roughly analogous to where the automobile industry was in 1908. In other words, if you are having problems getting the engine started, keep turning that crank.

We are seeing two potential problems with Part 2. First, while downloads remain strong, we have little doubt that the total number is down slightly from Part 1. This may be because people don't like the story; it may be because there has been far less publicity and media interest. As the author of the story, I naturally prefer the second possibility. In terms of continuing, this is not a problem. Based on the ground rules I set down at the outset, my job is to continue even if only 800 people download every episode-as long, that is, as 75% of those 800 people pay for what they are getting. The real problem is that we at Philtrum are beginning to see a widening disparity between downloads and payments. There is undoubtedly some thievery and bootlegging going on, but Marsha and I believe the real problem may lie elsewhere. It appears to us that some people are downloading two and even three times to different formats-to the Palm Pilot say, and also to whatever Microsoft uses. This may be based on a simple misperception. Let me put it this way: you couldn't go into a bookstore and say, "I want you to give me the paperback version and the audio version of this book free because I bought the hardcover." As simply as I can put it, you must pay for what you take every time you take it or this won't work.

As for the story itself, I have gone back to work and have written another 50,000 words. I am now all set to publish episodes of The Plant in September, October, and November. All I am guaranteeing, however, is Part 3 in September. After Part 3 is published, we will make a go-no go decision based on the pay-through.

I have been asked by a good many people about the fate of The Plant if the on-line experiment fails. All I can say is that while I love the new stuff, I have a great many other commitments, and the chances of it being finished or published in the near future would be slim. With the Internet to drive matters, the show will go on. If, however, the numbers don't support continuing the story, I will have to cease. The eventual decision doesn't rest with me; it is floating around somewhere out there in cyberspace.

One thing I almost forgot, and that is the issue of pricing. Installments one, two and three are going to be available for $1. Further installments up to 8 will be available for $2 each. In other words, you complete financial liability for the first 8 installments of this story will be $13 or about the cost of a trade paperback or a hardcover novel offered at 40% discount in a chain bookstore. Any parts beyond 8-which would be the balance of the story, would be posted free.

We have also had some complaints about the cost of ink and paper. On that subject, I have just two words: oh, please. One would think the books people bought in book stores were printed on air or that the cost of ink, paper, binding and boards were not included. As Internet readers---en as printers-buyers of The Plant are being spared these last two expenses. In closing let me quote science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein: TANFL, that stands for There Ain't No Free Lunch.

   In closing I just want to add that I appreciate all the support you have shown me thus far, and to add that the profit-motive was never the principal force driving this amusing exploration, and that is not what's driving it now. We are exploring a new continent, that's all, and so far it has been fun.