Clay Shirky, guest blogging on Boing Boing does a nice job of delineating the differences between "Readers" and "book Lovers".

From Aldus Manutius until recently, book lovers have been the most passionate readers. Now they are mostly just the oldest readers. Thanks to digital data, there is a fateful choice to be made between serving lovers of the text and lovers of the page; I think even Manutius would have sided with the readers over the collectors. I hope today's publishers do as well.

Now, as it happens, I don't think the trade publishing houses are likely to die anytime soon, but I do think Bill is a little too certain that the disparity in sales provides as much comfort to the industry as he thinks.

Consider the situation from the author's perspective. He's written a book that he'd like to get into the hands of readers and he'd like to make some money for his trouble. He has roughly two options:

He can go the traditional route. If he can find and agent, and if that agent can sell his book, he can expect roughly $5000 as an advance against royalties. Given the typical mid-list numbers above, and a simple royalty formula of 10% of the the wholesale cost of the book, our author will either just earn out his advance or maybe see a few more dollars. In any event, his book is likely to earn him about $5-6000. And there's always the possibility that the book won't sell -- either because it's not a very good book or because the publisher didn't market it very well (something completely out of the author's control). In that case, it becomes significantly less likely that our author will be able to interest a publisher in another book.

Or, our author can self-publish as did the author of Daemon. If he can market it he might sell 1200 copies (today that'd probably be considered quite a success) It's not clear how the finances break down for Daemon, but let's assume that the author is making $3-4 per copy. With POD that's not out of line for a $15.95+SH book. At 1200 copies, he's seeing reasonably similar dollars in his pocket. Now, he's had to put significant effort into marketing (though these days it seems that the successful traditionally published authors are also doing so). On the other hand, his downside risk of harming his ability to sell future books is negligible. And he's gotten his book out there. Even if he only sells 500 copies, that's 500 more than he would have sold if he couldn't interest an an agent or a traditional publishing house as the author of Daemon couldn't.

So, what does our author do? Well, it depends. If he's got a novel that lends it self to a targetable audience (say a mystery novel that focuses on quilters and quilting) and some marketing skills, going it alone might make sense. Especially if he's got ways to leverage his book (say partnering with a quilter to sell quilt patterns based on the MacGuffin in the book). It's not for everybody, but it is an alternative. It's also an alternative that may leave him in a better position to respond to a changing market. And it gives him somewhat more control over his book.

The point is, the author of Daemon probably made as much money self publishing as he would have if he'd been published by a traditional publishing house.

Now you might say that this is no skin off the traditional publisher's nose. They'll just keep looking for the next King or Rowling and keep on keeping on. That might work. The question is, do these alternative means of distribution shrink their available pool of talent over time? And, is the woman who just bought the latest novel from that author who posts on her favorite quilting forum going to spend more money on the latest Oprah Book Club wannabe?

As an aside in my e-mail, I mentioned that I had read and enjoyed Stross' Accelrando which I had started reading as an eBook but then purchased as a paperback because it was more convenient. I included the comment both because Accelerando is worth recommending and because the way I had come to read it (Stross made it available for free) was mildly interesting in context.

As I thought about it more, though, it occurred to me that the "more convenient" argument for the switch wasn't entirely accurate. As it happens, I have any number of devices in my home with which I can read eBooks. I have used them all to read quite a number of works as eBooks. I look forward each year to Fictionwise's habit of making the Hugo and Nebula nominees for best short story available and read them all electronically without complaint. So I'm not an eBook Luddite by any means.

But.

After a few chapters of the book though, I stopped at my local bookstore and picked up a copy in paperback. I kept the book on my bedside and finished reading it (even though it meant that I had to wear clunky reading glasses -- no font adjustment -- and stop reading when my wife wanted to go to sleep -- no back light). The book just worked better for me.

I'm not talking about the ineffable smell of the the book (I collect vintage Doc Savage paperbacks and the smell can most charitably be described as "musty") or any other tactile aspect of the book. Nor am I complaining about display quality (as noted above it's better in some very practical ways).

But.

When I pick the book, I take out the bookmark and start reading. When I'm done, I put the bookmark back and put the book down. There's no chance that the batteries will be low. There's no chance the DRM server will be down. There's no chance that there'll be dead pixel bloom on the display. In fact it's dead certain that as long as I find my reading glasses, I'll be able to read and relax.

None of the technical problems that could occur would be insurmountable. I've got extra batteries. The DRM server will probably come back up soon. But you know what? I just don't want to deal with it. I spend my day dealing with technology and by the time I want to pick up a book to read for pleasure, I'm just not in the mood for any of it.

In other words, dead certain reliability (not something our industry is known for) is the technology that I'm waiting for before I'll entirely give up the ineffable feel of a paperback book. This is in contrast to the conventional wisdom that lighter/cheaper/better eBook readers are the path to eBook nirvana. In effect I want technology that has the mental footprint of a 4 function calculator.I am aware of irony of this attitude as applied to a book in which the characters upload themselves into a spacecraft the size of a walnut which travels to distant parts of the universe. Ah well.