This week, two writers I work with sent me this article, asking my opinion on it. It effectively argues that Big Publishing (the “Big Five”) is dead, so instead of writing books and getting book deals, authors are better off publishing their own content on the Internet or elsewhere (self-publishing).

This isn’t the first criticism I’ve read of Big Publishing in recent months. After a judge struck down Penguin Random-House’s acquisition of Simon & Schuster last year in a widely publicized antitrust trial, there’s been much to poke fun of...like S&S’s CEO stating during trial that taking credit for a book’s success is like taking credit for the weather, and PRH’s CEO plainly stating that “success is random.”

For a lot of us—me included—the trial revealed some surprising insights into Big Publishing’s business model. We learned, for instance, that around ninety percent of books sell under 2,000 copies, and most books published by Big Five publishers don’t earn out their advances. This means that a very small percent of books (like four percent) accounts for a vast majority of a publisher’s revenue (like seventy percent).

It also means that, as an author signing with a Big Five publisher, you’re unlikely to earn royalties beyond your advance. Stats are very much not in your favor...unless you’re a runaway hit, a blockbuster.

This revelation has been interpreted, not just by the author of the particular article I was sent this week but by a lot of people, to draw conclusions about Big Five publishers: that they’re dinosaurs, that they’re on their way out, that it’s not worth pursuing a major book deal with one of them.

I find all of these conclusions misguided.

It’s Okay Not to Be John Grisham, Especially If You Can Buy a House

As an author who has published three books with a Big Five publisher and hasn’t earned out my advances, I can speak to what it’s like to be in this position. And from my perch, I’ll say this: it’s pretty great? Not perfect; not ideal. I’d love to be John Grisham, of course, and I’m not (yet). But do I have any regrets about going with a Big Five publisher? Absolutely not.

Here's the thing: I thought I was supposed to be John Grisham, that that was the only way I could make my publisher happy that they signed me. When I got paid a $155,000 advance for North American rights for my first novel, and then made about $300,000 on top of that for international rights, I assumed that I was supposed to earn out all of that money or my publishers would consider me a failure.

I was shocked when I got on the phone with my agent and learned this wasn’t true.

Publishers, she explained, also have other measures of success for a book. Obviously they want the book to earn out—they’d like to make money on the book (duh). But there are other benefits to a business that a book can bring. Was it well-reviewed? Did it get buzz? Did it win any prizes or awards? These are all tangible wins for a publisher—they reflect well on the publisher. They provide great PR. They are major boosts to the brand as a whole. And so, in the publisher’s eyes, the bottom line of a single book isn’t the only measure of that book’s success.

Do you know how much this relieved me, to hear that I wasn’t automatically deemed a disappointment by my publisher?

And I think this is super important for any author to know: It’s true that, statistically, you’re only likely to sell a few thousand books (or fewer) no matter how or with whom or where you publish—with Simon & Schuster or on Amazon or on the moon. But that doesn’t make you a failure.

It’s super interesting to me how capitalism insidiously influences our thinking around what pursuits have value, and what results count as success.

If five hundred people or a thousand people read my novel rather than 100,000, why is that a failure? I gave an experience to five hundred people who otherwise would not have had that experience, and I was paid—handsomely—for my efforts. (My publisher doesn’t necessarily consider this a failure, either, given that the vast majority of books don’t earn out—at least not an unexpected one. And they bought my next two novels. Regardless of how my publisher views the situation however, I’m entitled to my own take, of course.)

If authors of books measure our success by whether as many people read our book as read John Grisham’s or watch TikTok videos, we’re going to be disappointed. But we can also refuse to accept this definition.

I now view my publishing history differently. I wasn’t a failure because I wasn’t one of the few big hits from my publisher the year my debut novel came out. Thousands of people read my book. I made life-changing money, money that allowed my family to buy a house and my husband to go to grad school without taking out more debt.

That’s all quite amazing to me.

Big Five Publishers Do Care About Art, and Their Model Allows Them to Publish It

The Big Publishing business model is indeed sort of like a portfolio of stocks: these publishers publish a lot of books knowing most will not make money, but a few will make a lot of money.

This has been wielded as a criticism against them, but it can just as easily be viewed as kind of...dare I say, beautiful?

Again, what’s clear is that, for Big Publishers, investing in a number of books that don’t ultimately earn out still provides them some value—otherwise, they would only be publishing books by Beyoncé and God (the Bible being a perpetual top seller).

And that’s where the opportunity lies for all of us little people—the writers working our butts off on labors of love. We write because we love to write. And do you know why the people on the other side of the fence, the publishing professionals, do what they do? Because they love books.

They love books! They don’t go into publishing because they want to get rich (we can leave Jeff Bezos out of this). Everyone I’ve ever worked with in publishing brought visible passion to their work—they care. They believe in the books they sign and work on. They want them to succeed as much as the author does (maybe not quite as much). Sure, they’re limited by budgets and resources, because that’s the reality of business, but they do what they can within the constraints of that context. These folks chose their career path because they love to read and want to bring incredible books into the world.

If a few of those books (the Bible) fund the rest of those books...isn’t that kind of elegant and lovely and good? Aren’t we glad that books get published even if they aren’t going to make millions of dollars? I don’t want to live in a world where books don’t get published because they aren’t guaranteed to make as much money as In the Beginning.

Big Five Publishing Isn’t Going Anywhere Anytime Soon

I do think publishing is ripe to be disrupted, which is why it is currently being disrupted, not by a Netflix-of-books who wants to digitize all media, but by innovative independent publishers launching fresh business models. Many of these offer lower advance sizes but higher royalty rates. They offer more environmental and economical publishing structures, like print-on-demand. I encourage the writers I work with to research smaller, independent presses because there’s growing opportunity in that space.

But the truth is, books—print books, especially—aren’t going anywhere. Worldwide sales for the largest US publishers were all up by double digits in 2023 versus 2019. In 2022, almost 800 million copies of print books were sold in the United States—not e-books. That was the second-highest sales record for printed books in the 21st Century. Print books still outsell e-books year after year.

When we buy books, we are buying an experience, and the publishing industry has been around a long time for a reason: It’s really good at selling that experience. No one else has figured out how to do that yet, and the disruptor who does won’t be, in my opinion, an innovator who mistakenly believes that the print aspect of a book is irrelevant. Just look at the history of e-books and how they didn’t mean the end of hard copies. (Or consider how VHS and DVDs didn’t mean the end of the cinema.)

What’s Important to Know Before Seeking a Big Five Publisher

Here’s what I think is important for you to know if you’re seeking a Big Five publishing deal: When you get a big advance from a Big Five publisher (and many of us who are not celebrities do, by the way), disregard the term “advance.” Don’t go into it thinking this is the beginning of your money, because you probably aren’t going to get royalties on top of this, since most authors don’t. Maybe you will, and that would be amazing; you could very well be the next big thing. But it’s safer to view your advance as the money you’re making on this book. (I’m only taking about sizable advances here, not small, five figure advances; I’ve earned out on those, myself, in countries outside the US. And those checks sure are fun to get!)

In sum, would it be nice to be James Patterson? Sure. But if James Patterson is our measure of success, a lot of us are going to wind up feeling like failures.

I prefer the E.M. Forster definition: only connect. Whether I connect with five readers or five million, I’ve done my job. If I get paid for it, even better.

Note: In 2022, I compiled data around average and media advance size for authors publishing in the U.S. If you’d like to check out the (free) webinar I did breaking down these numbers, you can get it here.