Scholastic's announcement this week that its first printing of July's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince would be a record-breaking 10.8 million inspired two novel thoughts: 1) Refreshingly, an announced first printing might be close to, if not exactly right on, the "real" number of copies expected to ship. And 2) In an industry intent on bemoaning its shrinking audience, this book's publisher is betting on an expansion of an already huge readership.
Obviously, the ambitious first printing is good news for books, booksellers and for those who are concerned that kids don't read enough. Scholastic will surely sell its 10.8 million copies, and probably then some. The previous title, 2003's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,sold five million of its 6.8-million—copy first printing on its first day, and the Potter oeuvre has sold more than 270 million worldwide. It's a win-win-win situation: children everywhere will get their Potter fix, media reporters will have lots of stories, and Jo Rowling and Scholastic and even booksellers will make pots of money.
This is a very good sign about how many children are reading—or, maybe, how many parents are reading HP to their children. It surely suggests—as do the numbers that make clear that children's is one of the few thriving markets within trade publishing—that all those doom-and-gloom reports on the death of reading are a bit flawed. Smart adult publishers, take note: one of these days, those 10+ million Hogwarts wizard-watchers will be all grown up—and maybe they'll be looking for a couple of other things to read. (And as our feature this week points out, fantasy has nearly edged sci-fi off the screen in adult... awaiting the Children of Harry?)
The fact that Scholastic's number is a real one is interesting to me because it suggests that publishing ways are changing a bit. It used to be that the routine inflation of first-printing figures was one of the only ways a publisher could signal enthusiasm to booksellers and the press. "We really, really like this book," a first printing announcement of 100,000 would say. "We have high hopes for it." Never mind that the "real" first printing was probably closer to 20,000; we all nudge-nudged and wink-winked and hoped that the buzz would inspire retailers and consumers to pay more attention. Maybe the publisher would eventually print and sell that 100,000—and if not, at least they weren't going to be left with 80,000 returns.
But with a book like a Harry Potter, you don't have to do that wishful-thinking kind of promotion: the marketplace (and, to some extent, the story-hungry press that begins tracking a big book like this months in advance) has already done it for you. You don't have to tap-dance, you don't have to inflate, you don't have to fudge the numbers.
With smaller books, of course, publishers still do a fair amount of fibbing—and they continue to do so even though they know that nobody—except, sometimes, the naïve first-time author—believes them. That darling, brilliant, moving debut novel you're going to love supposedly shipped 50,000? Get real: everybody knows it was probably closer to 15,000.
I have to say, it seems kind of silly—and to people outside the business, downright weird—to publicize a number that everyone knows is a lie. But that doesn't mean publishers are going to stop thinking wishfully out loud anytime soon. Inflating print runs is ingrained, a part of the sleight-of-hand that characterizes the life we have chosen.
But if they aren't going to stop inflating the figures, why don't the rest of us simply stop listening? If we don't insist on judging a publisher's commitment or a book's buzz by the numbers they announce, then maybe, just maybe, they'd be less tempted to continue to do it. There are all kinds of other ways, after all, to get a bead on a book, and to make an educated guess about its potential in the marketplace. There's subject matter, for one thing, and jacket design and promotional plans. (But not announcements about book tours, which is another story for another time.) There are early reviews and word of mouth.
There are also the books themselves. Now, there's a concept. Maybe, instead of basing our opinions on the publisher's hyped-up hopes, we should actually sit down and read. Then, maybe we could start making our own educated guesses about a book's publishing future. As for Harry,
I have a feeling he'll do pretty well.
