The short answer? Everything.

Doctorow, whose brash and sometimes subversive-sounding publishing strategies have made him a folk hero to his fans and generated intense controversy in the mainstream publishing community, has laid siege to the very ramparts of that community by wagering that he’s at least as good a publisher as they are. Maybe, even, a better one. And he’s thrown down the gauntlet in the industry’s very own trade publication, Publishers Weekly.

Doctorow describes his undertaking as an experiment. The book is a collection consisting almost completely of reprints of previously published stories. It’s called With a Little Help and it’s his third collection. “It will,” he declares, “be available for free on the day it is released.”

“Free” notwithstanding, what he hopes to accomplish is, simply, to make money publishing his book, or at least not lose any. He will achieve this by using the same contrarian (or at least counterintuitive) tactics that have succeeded with previous books, including giving them away.

How will we know if the experiment is a success or failure? Doctorow will chronicle it as it unfolds in a monthly column for PW, the first of which appeared in the October 19th issue. His entertaining article is a canny template for a publishing program that utilizes both print and digital media. Of course, this is something that every traditional publisher is trying to do, but here’s the problem with every traditional publisher: they’re all hobbled by a brick and mortar mindset (and overhead) that makes it impossible to achieve what one determined individual can do – at least, one bold and determined individual named Cory Doctorow. Though he acknowledges lots of help from his friends, he also, obviously, holds with Rudyard Kipling’s observation: “Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne, He travels fastest who travels alone.”

Doctorow’s template for success includes:

• Low overhead: My capital expenditures have to be as low as possible. In the ideal world, every object I make available will either cost nothing to produce or will be physically instantiated only after it has been ordered and paid for.
• E-book: free, in a wide variety of formats: I have always released my books in three formats (text, HTML and PDF formatted for two-column portrait printout), and my readers have always followed up by converting them to an astonishing long tail of other formats for their preferred readers.
• Audiobook: free, in a wide variety of formats: I’ve always taken great pleasure in reading my works aloud. I’ve done 150-plus installments of a podcast of me doing just that. But I’m no pro. However, many of my friends are pro voice actors, and I’ve called on them to each record one of the stories from the book.
• Donations: whatever happens: I have never solicited donations for my works before, despite the urgings of True Believers who would like to see my publisher cut out of the loop, because I wanted to be sure my publisher was in the loop. This time around, I’m the publisher, so let’s see what people are interested in giving.
• Print-on-Demand trade paperback: $16 (approximately; price TBD) Lulu.com produces beautiful books, objects that look every bit as good as the Lightning Source trade paperbacks that Ingram will sell you, provided you know what you’re doing when you design them. A designer, I am not. But John Berry, who designed my essay collection, Content, for Tachyon, is.
• I’m also offering a custom-cover package for people running events or giveaways: for a setup fee (I’m thinking $300, but that’s not fixed in stone), I’ll sell you as many copies at Lulu’s cost as you’d like with your own cover on it.
• Premium hardcover edition: $250, limited run of 250 copies:My office is in Clerkenwell, in London, close to several artisanal binders and some damned fine printers. My favorite binder is the venerable, family-owned Wyvern Bindery, which has agreed to bind a fine limited edition of With a Little Help for £20 a copy, in quantities of 20.
• Commission a new story: $10,000 (one only):I probably underpriced this, but it’s too late now. The idea was to give my readers the chance to commission a story to be added to the collection at a later date—thus benefiting from an additional burst of publicity and possibly selling a second copy of the “expanded edition” to people who wanted to get the compleat text.
• Advertisements: TBD: Since the paperbacks are print-on-demand, and the electronic files can be trivially modified, I’m going to sell a single ad unit on a time-limited basis: a half-page, or 500 pixels square, or five lines of text (depending on the image), at a price to be determined, in month-long increments.
• Donations of books: TBD: Since the publication of Little Brother in spring 2008, I’ve run a donation program for my books wherein I ask librarians, teachers and people who work in other “worthy” institutions (halfway houses, shelters, hospitals, etc.) to put their names down for free copies. I publish this list online and mention it in the introductions to all the digital copies of the works.

Doctorow sometimes seems to have a chip on his shoulder, and some skeptics will try to knock it off. In fact blogger Michael Stackpole has spilled gallons of e-ink to do that very thing, including calling Doctorow a “snake-oil salesman” and his experiment “rubbish”. Entrenched establishmentarians will also try to take Doctorow down. That would be a mistake. They would be far better off studying his strategies and learning from them, something he makes easy to do with his wit and articulateness. I wish him not only to not lose money but to make a bundle. Maybe that will take the starch out of some publishers that are not just stuck in the last century but are proud of it.

Bravo to Publishers Weekly for offering Doctorow a forum. Read Doctorow’s Project: With a Little Help. I can’t wait to see how it all turns out.

Richard Curtis