Asia Argento once told me that in many ways she preferred working with a mainstream studio rather than an independent one, since at least she knew what she could expect from a major.
"The independent producers pretend to be your friends," she said, "then they stab you in the back."
This may come across as heresy to those who revere indies as the saviors of an increasingly conglomerated art world. Everyone in the arts has heard stories about, say, the small gallery that absconded with profits after a show, or the indie record label that offered unorthodox profit-sharing contracts to its bands–only to pad their accounts with questionable charges. And then there are the independent book publishers who didn’t pay their authors a dime.
This happened to many authors at Soft Skull Press under former publisher Sander Hicks. Hicks, the son of an economist at the World Bank and an outspoken socialist, ran Soft Skull until August of 2001, when, under pressure from Soft Skull’s board, he announced that he would take an indefinite leave of absence and moved to his aunt’s house on Long Island. Richard Nash, the company’s chairman of the board, took over as the new publisher and soon unearthed what can best be described as a disaster.
Before Hicks left, Nash had heard anecdotally that many authors hadn’t been paid or that they had been paid only very little. The 2000 publication of J.H. Hatfield’s unauthorized biography of George W. Bush, Fortunate Son, aggravated this dilemma. The company was sued because of alleged inaccuracies in the author’s preface, and the book’s inventory was frozen at the warehouse. Since the company’s working capital was tied up with Fortunate Son, it seemed likely that Soft Skull would fold.
To make things worse, Nash discovered upon examining the company’s books that the records Hicks had been keeping were incomplete to an extraordinary degree. He saw, too, that there was little money available to pay anyone, from printers to shippers to authors, and suspected that it was the authors who had been suffering disproportionately.
The indie market is a tough one, and many independent organizations have attempted to finagle their way out of sticky quagmires by using disputable means to cut financial corners, perhaps thinking that their doing so served some sort of higher good. As Nash puts it, "That can slip awfully fast into arrogance."
Instead, he says, "The important thing is to be up-front from the start. Talk to your authors, explain the situation, ask for their understanding–and don’t take it for granted."
This is exactly how he and Soft Skull’s marketing director, Tennessee Jones, handled things when they realized there was no way that Soft Skull could generate the profits it needed to pay off its debts in only a few months; indeed, they saw that it would take several years. Hoping to amend matters in a way that was equitable to all involved, they offered their creditors interest-paying bonds that matured in three years. After much discussion, almost everyone accepted them.
The authors, of course, were skeptical at first because of their earlier experiences. But as Nash and Jones continued to be straightforward in their dealings, and as the money owed them began arriving, they became more trusting. Now Soft Skull, while still beset by the difficulties facing any indie, has overcome many of its problems. The ethical approach used to right Soft Skull’s finances and deal with artists is one that should be studied by every independent.
This month, Soft Skull published Peops, a collection of portraits and stories by East Village artist Fly, which was celebrated last month with a reading at Bluestocking Books. It has also organized more than 100 events around the country that will occur during September and October. In addition, Soft Skull is one of the few publishers to still encourage poets, with, among others, new works by Todd Colby and Daphne Gottlieb on the horizon. And unlike most majors and too many independents, it does its best to promote every single book that it publishes, not just the ones it perceives to be more commercial.
To not do so, Jones says, would be "shooting ourselves in the foot and disrespectful to our authors… Simply put, we like and care about the people we publish."
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