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Mass Hysteria in the Digital Age: LendInk, Lending, and Author’s Rights

The first DMCA notice came in almost a week ago. Then a second, and a third.

In total, we heard from about five authors who were confused about Lendle’s role in the lending process. It was clear that someone, somewhere, was talking about services like ours, with the thought that we were somehow lending actual copies of books without permission.

The first notice we received contained a reference to LendInk, so it became clear that the author had sent out multiple takedown notices.

In each case we sent out the same response, usually within minutes of receiving the notice:

Hi, [author].

We are not lendink. I’ll assume you sent this same email to lendink and that, as such, the reference to lendink here is a typo in that you simply and understandably forgot to change the email address when you sent us the same takedown notice.

With that said, we cannot agree that we are infringing on your copyright as we are simply displaying materials that are part of Amazon’s public API, operating in compliance of Amazon’s guidelines. You presumably agreed to be a part of this API when you agreed to sell your book via Amazon. If not, this is an issue you will want to take up there.

We do not sell or license or give out any content from your book. We merely display materials which are part of Amazon’s public API (title, description, cover, etc.) at which point customers are directed to Amazon to purchase a copy of your book or they are able to state that they have already purchased the book from Amazon. If a customer has paid for a copy of a book and that book comes with a lending license (a decision that is between an author/publisher and amazon) those customers are then able to use that lending license by utilizing Amazon’s lending service. We do not facilitate loans, nor do we condone or facilitate illegal sharing of books. If anything, we are driving and encouraging sales of your books through the official channel you chose to sell them.

Unfortunately, the only way we can prevent information about your book (which, incidentally, is all fair use information) from appearing on our site is if you have your book removed from Amazon’s API. This is not something we can accomplish as you control the contract you signed with Amazon.

Sincerely, 

Brian Ford

Lendle

In almost every instance, that email alone was sufficient to calm the concerns of the authors in question. In fact, one of the authors engaged in a nice back and forth about lending rights, her confusion, our service, and the role that lending might be able to play in promoting her books. 

GENESIS

Still, I was curious, and working off the hunch that LendInk was somehow at the center of the storm I discovered that dozens of authors over the course of two or three days had descended on the LendInk Facebook page to demand answers.

Many were claiming to have sent out multiple takedown notices, and threats of class action lawsuits were already being bandied about, but one thing was clear: The owner of LendInk hadn’t yet responded to any of the posts or concerns or notices — either via email or by posting an explanation on the Facebook page. 

Further digging revealed that LendInk had been running on autopilot for several months due to health issues suffered by the current owner.

Eventually, the authors focused their fire on LendInk’s hosting service and because LendInk wasn’t responding to notices, the host made the understandable decision to pull the plug.

That brings us to today.

Beyond comments on a couple of the articles that covered the takedown, we’ve been content to sit in the nosebleed section and observe.

For one thing, we suspected that the situation would blow over fairly quickly, given LendInk’s “all but officially dead” status prior to the dustup. 

Instead, the snowball is now a snowboulder, and it’s still rolling down the mountain.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE

CNET was one of the first major sites to take a crack at covering the controversy. The Verge weighed in. GIGAOM has a take. Even the EFF has gotten involved.

Something that I’ve been pondering is “why LendInk” when there are at least three other sites that have seen more press, are arguably more popular, and which all operate in the same manner?

I can’t speak for any other site, but I think it helped that we were very quick to respond as the notices came in. As I said in the comment I posted on the CNET article, no matter how misguided the attacks were, it can’t have been comforting to go two or three days without a response to a serious infringement concern.

I have no doubt in my mind that the vast majority of the authors who sent notices did so in good faith, even if that good faith was rooted in an easily cured misunderstanding and a subsequent rush to judgement.

I think we’ve also built up a very active userbase that would have been quick to come to our defense.

We don’t participate in every Amazon forum thread in which we’re mentioned, but we’re definitely aware that our users are actively educating authors and skeptics about the process when they talk up our service. (Thanks for that!)

If Lendle — or one of the other major lending sites — had been the focus of the controversy, the forum discussions might have been more balanced and the fallout probably would have been avoided.

The other major issue is that (most of) the media didn’t take notice until days after LendInk was shut down.

The sad truth of the matter is that the publishing industry has never seemed quite as sexy as the music industry or the movie industry, and that’s reflected in the dearth of coverage.

Unfortunately, this means mainstream media outlets and influential tech blogs tend to ignore digital lending issues unless there’s a controversy. 

It takes a lot of dedication to stay in the spotlight.

LOOKING TO THE FUTURE

The fallout has been nothing if not predictable: Some authors have expressed regret, others have dug in their heels — one person is even justifying the takedown of a legal site as a “warning” to actual pirate sites — and consumer outrage has led to calls for boycotts and negative reviews.

Some people are even encouraging LendInk to file lawsuits.

What good will any of that do? If consumers are angry that something like this could happen, the best possible outcome is to write rational, positive letters to Amazon (or Barnes and Noble) letting them know how awesome and useful their lending service is.  

Send that same letter to publishers even if they don’t currently support a lending program.

Most importantly, go buy a book from an author that does currently support lending.

Maybe lending programs don’t work quite as well as they could or maybe you think they should do even more. The best way to make that happen is to show authors and publishers that you’re willing to put your money where you mouth is: Apple convinced the music industry to go DRM-free only after consumers opened their wallets to support digital music. 

If LendInk is to come back — if it’s even feasible for the owner to bring LendInk back — the best possible result is that they come back to a groundswell of support for lending and a positive campaign to raise awareness about the programs offered by Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Encouraging a lawsuit without even understanding the chances of success or the costs involved is knee-jerk reactionism, at best.

Attacking authors — even those that are actively and intentionally spreading misinformation — serves no useful purpose.

Encouraging retaliatory piracy certainly isn’t going to help, either.

Revenge may sound good on paper but it’s not going to solve any problems and will likely make the situation even worse. 

We’ve spent the better part of our existence trying to raise awareness — through blog posts and tweets and responsive customer service — and we’ve done our best to talk up the benefits of social sharing when approached by concerned authors, all with the goal of creating a productive dialogue.

Clearly, there’s still work to be done.

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Today, I am going to revolutionize my industry.

Imagine what it must be like to be a prominent figure in the publishing industry, a person in a position of power, to be the guy or gal who could wake up and say:

“Today, I am going to revolutionize my industry.”

That person exists. It could be John Makinson. It could be Markus Dohle. Or Brian Murray.

J.K. Rowling is doing it, but she’s limiting her revolution to the Harry Potter industry.

At any rate, it doesn’t really matter who it is: People exist who are in a position to shake things up and turn the publishing industry on its head at a pivotal moment in time.

That, to me, is the dream.

It’s one thing to ride the resurgent wave of the mobile industry in the years after the introduction of the iPhone, or the computer industry after the iPad, but imagine what it must have been like to be Steve Jobs (or to have worked for him) once it had been decided that Apple was going to disrupt the mobile and computer industries? 

No, seriously: If you’re reading this and you’re the head of a publishing house, please imagine what it would be like to make the decision to fundamentally alter the direction of your industry.

The foundation has been laid: The Kindle Fire, the iPad, the Nook Color — all of these devices are platforms for this revolution. Any one of the people I’ve listed above could approach Apple, or Amazon, and lay out a grand plan to win the day. 

What happens if Brian Murray approaches Jeff Bezos, or Tim Cook (or both) and says:

Hey, Jeff. We’re nervous as hell about this, but if we don’t move, someone else will, and we’ve got some big ideas. We’d rather be bold and first than timid and last. The writing is on the wall regarding ebooks and we want to lead the charge. I know HarperCollins has been a bit behind the times and, yes, even downright stodgy when it comes to our embrace of digital content. That ends today.

Here’s what’s on the table: We’d like to bite the bullet and sell all our content DRM-free.

Go ahead and put a digital signature on it, but that’s all we’ll require. 

Next, we want to work more closely with Amazon. We want you to build a social platform for our books and put it on every Kindle you sell. You’ve got the user data, we’ve got the books. Charge a monthly subscription and give us a 50% cut. Any user who joins that service can then share their books with other users of the service, as often as they like, with the idea that you’ll manage the transactions.

Amazon has a record of who buys what, which means we can even authenticate purchases and ensure that people aren’t lending the same book out to more than one person at a time. We can iron out the details later, but that’s the gist of it.

Give your customers a platform to talk about our books. Our goal, then, is to create an army of consumer marketers for our content.

Here’s where it gets interesting, Jeff. If a user wants to use this service to sell their copy of a book to someone else on the service — make that possible. They’ll get a small cut, you’ll get your small cut, and we’ll get our usual bigger cut. Go ahead and make the user’s cut a credit for the Kindle store, though. That way, they come back and buy more books. You’ve got some smart people at Amazon and I’m confident you can work out a way to transfer ownership to the new user. Above all else, make this easy and fun to use.

Then, if Jeff Bezos won’t play ball, or if he won’t agree to negotiate the price of ebooks in a direction more favorable to HarperCollins, Tim Cook gets the same pitch.

This isn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Both Amazon and Apple could make this happen, given the opportunity. An independent developer with sufficient funds could make it happen, for that matter.

If Amazon launches this tomorrow, HarperCollins benefits tomorrow by being first to market and first to a sensible solution for monetizing the redistribution of their content amongst customers.

At some point, seeing the error of their hesitant ways, other publishers would negotiate their way into the platform. Eventually, Apple decides they’ve got to create something similar for iOS and Barnes & Noble follows suit. 

Sadly, the fact that something is possible doesn’t mean it’s likely. This can’t happen unless Brian Murray (or whoever) wakes up with a desire to flip the script.

I have to wonder, though: In a post-PC, post-paper world, if no one seems to be waking up with that grand vision — why are these people still leaders in their industry in the first place?

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Lending Rights (and Wrongs)

Given all the chatter surrounding the (now on indefinite hiatus) SOPA bill, I’ve been meaning to post something about lending rights and Kindle books. We’ve published on this topic before, but as library lending via OverDrive and Amazon’s Kindle Owners Lending Library (KOLL) — not to mention sites like Lendle — become more and more popular, we’re starting to see the discussion surrounding copyright bleed into Amazon’s forums.

The end user is finally seeing (and scrutinizing) the impact of DRM on their reading habits.

The discussion, sadly, feels pretty black or white: On the one hand, some people feel as though more books should be free, that the KOLL’s “one free book per month” (for Prime subscribers) isn’t good enough. The sentiment seems to be that publishers are being greedy: “I can read more than one book a month, so why can’t I borrow more than one?”

The other side of the coin is the argument that Amazon and publishers don’t owe anyone anything: If people want books, they should always be willing to pay for them — no matter the cost — and it’s little more than consumer greed to expect otherwise. “Free” isn’t in the publisher’s best interests, so why should they offer anything for free, let alone one book per month?

Here’s a pretty typical argument regarding the first view:

Publishers and retailers are pulling a similar switch with ebooks and hoping that nobody will notice. When you buy an ebook you don’t actually buy it the same way you buy a print book. You buy a license to read it on a certain device, or number of devices. Most of these licenses do not give readers the legal right to share their ebooks, even though people have shared print books for as long as they have existed. As a librarian it bothers me that this basic feature of print books might disappear entirely as more people read ebooks over print books. While I understand the concerns publishers have about ebook piracy, the use of DRM and the criminalizing of sharing goes to far (at the same time it is not very effective). They would never get away with trying to restrict the sharing of print books, yet somehow they have convinced readers they don’t have the right to share ebooks.

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It’s a bit surprising to see this logic coming from a librarian. Whether you’re talking about an ebook, or a printed book, the license is pretty much the same, at least when it comes to sharing: You don’t own the content of the book you’re reading, even if you own the shell it’s printed/rendered on.

(Note that I’m limiting this analysis to the topic of sharing/lending. The right to resell used ebooks is a whole argument unto itself.)

It’s true that if you want to loan someone a printed book, you can simply hand them that book and, eventually, you either get it back, or you don’t. In any case, while the other person is reading the book, you’re not able to read it, because you don’t have it.

I like to think of this as a built-in form of rights management, inherent to the method of delivery. There’s an inconvenience factor that has, historically, obviated the need for strict oversight by the publishing industry.

The argument, then, is that there should be no DRM on Kindle books, because DRM restricts our “right” to share with others the books we’ve purchased. Moreover, it’s different than anything we’ve had to deal with before and, well, change sucks!

Two problems, here:

If you want to share a Kindle book with someone “like you’ve always shared your regular books” you can always hand that someone your Kindle. (And risk never seeing it again.) My wife (also a librarian) did just that when she loaned her Kindle to my mother-in-law last week.

I’ve yet to see someone explain why they can’t do this, just as they’ve always done, if they feel compelled to lend a Kindle book to someone they know.

In some ways, lending “the old fashioned way” with a Kindle is actually more open, because you can still read those books on a 2nd Kindle, or on an iPad, or on your computer.

More importantly, in this hypothetical, sharing a DRM-free digital file isn’t anything at all like lending someone a copy of a printed book: If I’ve got a digital file, and I “share” it with someone, I’ve still got my copy of that file. (Certainly, no one is arguing that they’d temporarily delete their own copy, in good faith?)

Meanwhile, my friend also has a copy of that file. Before long, his friend has a copy of that file. And then her friend has a copy of that file. As the original lender, nothing ever stopped me from reading my copy, nor do I risk losing my copy if my friend decides to keep his, and there’s no end to the chain.

The argument that we’ve always been able to lend our printed books as many times as we want, to whoever we want, simply doesn’t scale to digital books.

It’s easy to argue, I suppose, that this is the way it “should” be, but whether DRM exists or not, that sort of sharing isn’t legal. If all Kindle books went DRM-free tomorrow, that turn of events wouldn’t wipe out existing copyright law and you wouldn’t suddenly have the right to distribute copies of books to your friends, let alone to complete strangers.

Similarly, you can hand someone a printed book, but you can’t make a word-for-word copy of that book and give it away, or sell it. Copyright limits how we can distribute the books we buy, DRM or no.

Sans DRM, you’re not “sharing” or “lending” books — you’ve become part of a peer-to-peer distribution network, with almost no incentive for anyone to buy books.

I’d love to think that we live in a perfect world and we’d pay for all our books out of the goodness of our hearts, or maybe at the very least we’d eventually throw a few dollars toward one of our favorite authors (most likely an established name who doesn’t really need it) but let’s face it: This scenario wouldn’t be sustainable for authors below a certain threshold of popularity.

On a more personal level, the loss of DRM would also mean the loss of social sites like Lendle.

Again, DRM-free does not and would not mean “all bets are off” when it comes to copyright and sharing.

Without the inclusion of DRM on Kindle books, Lendle would be nothing more than a network for pirating ebooks, and we’d eventually suffer the same fate as the now defunct sharing site “Megaupload” if in fact we attempted to operate as a lending network in a DRM-free world.

DRM makes Lendle possible.

There’s an argument to be made that the current restrictions on ebooks go too far, or that they’re too restrictive, but it’s hard for me to envision a future in which social lending can exist without some level of restriction, at least.

It also seems absurd to ignore the obvious differences of scope between physical objects and their digital counterparts. I can’t realistically mass produce a printed copy of The Catcher in the Rye, after all.

With all that said, I can’t really agree with the argument that we should just accept whatever publishers feed us when it comes to what we can and can’t do with our digital content, either — and Lendle certainly rejects the idea that lending and/or “free” (as a promotion) is bad for publishers and authors.

The publishing industry is facing a crisis: There’s a new model crashing up against an old model, and too many are reluctant to let go of that old model. In a lot of cases, this is bolstered by the crowd that refuses to go digital because they “love the feel of a book in the hand, the crack of the spine, the smell of old paper…” 

There’s a distinct whiff of hipster pride, there — and it’s a sentiment that is disastrous for the future of the industry.

I’m convinced that “old school” crowd doesn’t read and/or buy nearly as many books as those who bought-in to Kindle because it facilitates their passion for reading, and find that having access to hundreds of books on one easy-to-carry device means that they can read more than ever before.

Reading should be about “what” you’re reading, not “how” you’re reading it, and people who genuinely love to read seem to get that.

Some people love to read, and some people love the idea of loving to read.

The former is the Lendle community, summed up. We’re not going to say that no one joins Lendle to avoid paying for books, but by and large, our active community buys more than they borrow, and they probably buy far more in any given month than most buy in an entire year.

They signed up because they love to read and, in turn, they love that Lendle provides a fun method to discover new books and authors. 

Maybe we need to rethink whether we want to identify as a “social lending” site and focus more on our strengths (and our real benefit to the publishing industry) which is that our users are, essentially, a community driven advertisement for the consumption of books.

We’re fostering a culture of reading, and that’s an endangered concept that every author and every publisher should gladly support.

Amazon is stat-happy these days, and what they’re saying has been nothing but good news for publishers who embrace lending: The Hunger Games allows for lending but it nevertheless topped Amazon’s holiday sales charts. Authors who participate in Amazon’s KDP Select (which includes a lending component) saw an average sales increase of 26%.

The mounting evidence is that lending leads to sales. 

I’ve no doubt in my mind that “lending = good” is the mindset that publishers need to embrace, and soon, in order to seize the momentum of a rapidly changing business model. The fact of the matter is, those who sign up for Lendle are buying books, and they’re choosing to make the best of a limited license to share their love of books with others, when they could instead be spending time on sites like the Pirate Bay.

And, of course, they’re buying books despite the fact that lending licenses could be more consumer friendly, books (often) cost more than they’d like to spend, and in a down economy. Imagine what might happen if publishers were to go all in?

As always, consumers are looking for a convenient and fun way to do the right thing.

With millions of Kindle devices in the hands of consumers and the unfulfilled promise of a sanctioned and legal social environment, there’s billions of untapped dollars to be made from increased exposure alone, and the very best kind of advertising — enthusiastic and viral word of mouth from rabid fans — is waiting to be harnessed and focused in a positive direction.

The only buy-in is a little trust and forward thinking from some of our major publishers.

As always, if you support Lendle, please consider signing on as a Patron.

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Amazon is “in talks” with publishers? We’ve heard that before.

In other news, Google is “in talks” with the music industry. Anyone here buying songs from a music service powered by Google? Yeah. We’re not either.

At any rate, we were asked if we’d seen the recent Wall Street Journal news report that Amazon is currently negotiating a “Netflix-like” subscription service for books. We hadn’t, but now that we have, we’re not going to lose any sleep over it. 

First, we’re hearing that these talks aren’t very far along — this isn’t something that is likely to launch soon, and certainly not alongside Amazon’s impending Kindle tablet. 

The paucity of detail in the WSJ piece — paywall ahead — makes this feel like a coordinated leak, a bargaining tool meant to kickstart a discussion rather than finalize one.

What little we kinda sorta know:

  • The service would likely be tied to Amazon Prime, which currently runs $79 a year.
  • “Older titles.”
  • There may be a per-month limit on the number of books a given user could read.
  • Amazon is promising publishers a “substantial” cut of the $79 fee.

Amazon’s pitch is likely this: “We’ll give you a cut of every Amazon Prime membership, even when people don’t ever download a single book under our subscription plan. This way, even assuming some people use our service rather than buying books, you’ll still come out ahead.”

In other words:

“You won’t really be selling books, anymore, you’ll be an add on incentive for one of our services.”

Which leads us to this:

It’s unclear how much traction the proposal has, the people said. Several publishing executives said they aren’t enthusiastic about the idea because they believe it could lower the value of books and because it could strain their relationships with other retailers that sell their books, they said.

There’s nothing new or surprising about publishers expressing public skepticism about new and innovative business models — check Lendle’s library for evidence of that — but the skepticism is understandable in this case, because it’s definitely unclear how well a “Netflix-like” model will translate to books.

Why?

Reading isn’t quite like listening to music or watching movies — and our gut tells us that purchasing habits are different, as well. Let’s assume that there are three categories of readers:

  1. People who don’t read
  2. Casual readers
  3. People who read obsessively

Now, let’s assume a model, based on what we know:

“User pays $79 for the ability to read 5 books a month from a limited back-catalogue of titles.”

Those in category A don’t read, so they’re simply not interested.

Those in category B probably don’t read enough to get anything out of the service, and what they do read (new, bestsellers) most likely won’t be included anyway.

Those in category C read dozens of books in a month, in which case they’re suddenly paying a subscription fee for a mere five books a month and then a la carte for anything above and beyond those five. Sounds like a great deal.

What does all this mean for Lendle?

It’s hard to say, really. Optimistically, Amazon offering any service that doesn’t directly compete with Lendle is good news. Pessimistically, Amazon could eventually decide that lending isn’t going anywhere — and ditch it altogether in favor of a subscription model.

If we had a say, $79 (or whatever they raise the price to) would involve everything described above, but Amazon would also work to convince publishers that it also buys lending rights — as they exist today — for all titles, even newer titles, when bought a la carte.

Doing so would provide a value-based incentive for customers to continue to buy books alongside the ability to stream them, which would go a long way toward placating an industry that doesn’t want to lose the ability to sell an actual product.

(Frankly, we wish Amazon would put some negotiating muscle behind their existing lending service — which is still half-baked — before they start talking about new services. It’s all very wishy-washy.)

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Amanda Hocking “Switched” away from digital lending

Earlier today, we received an email from a Lendler / Amanda Hocking fan, letting us know that there is an issue with Hocking’s book, Switched:

You may or may not be aware of this situation, seeing as how I always see this set of books being added to the site frequently.  Actually, I am seeing that you do know about this situation after looking at the “available now” section.  Anyway, I have someone wanting to borrow “Switched” by Amanda Hocking from me.  Trying to lend and it will not work.  I originally borrowed two of this series through lendle (yay), but after reading an article on the author’s blog last week, I went ahead and purchased the two that I had lent, in case I wanted read them again and the new books will  be at a higher price.  She is planning on unpublishing the series from Amazon and re-releasing through her publisher in a few months.

The pertinent bit from the Amanda Hocking blog post:

Which brings me to the next point. As of August 1, 2011 I’m going to be unpublishing Switched. The release date for the St. Martin’s edition of Switched is set for January 2012, and we (both me and the publisher) want that to have the most success it can, so we want to give Switched some time off the market.

I’m leaving both Torn and Ascend for sale until September 1, 2011 when I’ll be unpublishing them both. I’m leaving for sale longer, so people who buy Switched now have a full month to purchase the other two books in their current state at their current price.

The upshot to all this is that anyone who bought (or buys) these books will no longer be able to lend them, once they’re nuked from Amazon’s catalogue. It simply won’t be possible. We think that’s a bit rotten, but it’s happening.

We reached out to Hocking, via Twitter, and she was kind enough to respond:

I didn’t know this would happen until after I did it. But that should be taken up wit Amazon. I think it should still be lendable PERMALINK

We agree, of course. Unfortunately, or predictably, when situations like this arise, Amazon’s stock answer is to lay blame at the feet of publishers. This leaves readers stuck in the middle of a finger pointing contest that rarely, if ever, leads to straight answers. Indeed, when we asked an Amazon CSR about the status of purged books, we were incorrectly told that they were still lendable. We’ve since confirmed that this isn’t so. 

At any rate, Amazon is far more likely to listen to Amanda Hocking, successful novelist, than to Lendle, lovable lending site. Given that she believes her book should still be lendable, it seems as though it’s her responsibility to ask why it’s not — especially given that it’s her legion of loyal fans that is now left in the lurch.

Looking toward the future, we’ve followed up with Hocking in an effort to find out if the new editions of her books will be lending-enabled. Given that she’s signed with St. Martin’s Press, a Macmillan imprint, this seems unlikely — though we’re hoping our cynicism is unwarranted.  

If it’s not, this would be a bit of a change of pace for Hocking, whose success has been based largely on the word-of-mouth of her fans, and the devoted following it has engendered. It’ll be a shame if she’s forced to offer a less-compelling product based on a new publishing arrangement. 

It should be said that we’ve got nothing but respect for any author who can do what Hocking has done, and we certainly don’t begrudge her the decision to “go pro” — we sincerely hope she finds even more success now that she’s earned the backing of a major publisher. If her fans love her books, we think that means they’re worth more than the $0.99 she’s been charging, and that she’s earned the right to ask for more without being criticized.

Still, we definitely hope she’ll have more of an influence on St. Martin’s Press and Macmillan than they’ll have on her. They could learn a lot from Hocking’s early successes, so hopefully they’re paying attention and not just cashing in on an underdog story.

They could learn a lot from us, as well: We found out about all of this from a Lendler who only bought Amanda Hocking’s books after borrowing them through our service. She read them, liked them, and was nevertheless willing to pay for them. That’s Neil Gaiman’s vision, and it’s a success strategy that’s been proven out time and again in other industries. What’s so hard to understand about that?

Ending on the bright(er) side:

Also because I did this, Switched will be more readily available in libraries, so it will actually be more lendable in the future PERMALINK

That’s something, anyway.

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Borders.

We dropped by a Borders this weekend. Everything! Must! Go! It’s early, so the best deals are yet to come — most likely on the worst merchandise. It was nice to see a bookstore teeming with eager customers; it’s just too bad that it takes a liquidation sale for that to happen.

Not long after Borders announced their farewell tour — apparently, they’re so undesirable they couldn’t even get a single buyout bid — the graduation goggles were donned and the eulogies were spat out in Tweet-sized soundbites:

“Oh, Borders! We’re so sad to see you go! RIP! #thankUBorders”

Ahem. Never-mind that we used to be sad to see stores like Borders driving out the smaller “Mom and Pop” bookstores. “THERE’S NO LIFE IN THESE MONSTROSITIES!” (We shopped there anyway. The selection and prices drew us in.)

Perhaps Borders is now — on its deathbed, mind you — allowed into the cool kids club (reading is cool, right?) because a new, even more damnable enemy is at hand:

The dreaded ebook!

As an ebook lending site, we often get an earful from those who just can’t quite come to terms with the rising popularity of digital books. It is, to put it mildly, eye-rollingly boorish behavior, and it’s the same basic sentiment that lamented the rise of photography, the advent of the printing press, and the growing popularity of the personal computer. 

It’s the argument that going to lose. 

Again.

The shockingly speedy demise of an outlet as big as Borders is a sign of things to come: In with the new, out with the old. Or, more likely, the old will live on, as the new gains slow, but inevitable, prominence.

The real problem isn’t that we’re moving on, it’s that no one will have learned the obvious (and recent) lessons from all the other times we’ve moved on: Fighting is only going to make things worse.

Print books aren’t going away. Libraries aren’t going away. The publishing industry isn’t in any real danger, beyond the self-inflicted wounds of short-sightedness.

Just as the music industry weathered the digital storm, so too will the publishing industry.

Will someone step up to embrace the digital future, or will we spend the next ten years as pawns in a losing battle against piracy? Indeed, will “piracy” be a convenient bogey-man, an overstated threat, used to buy time? Will customers be harassed in the name of the bottom line? Will publishers cite the demise of Borders as an excuse to tighten control and raise prices, spurred-on by traditionalists who want to avoid change, all at the expense of meaningful progress?

The smell of a book? The feel of a book in your hands? Meh. 

Let’s be real: Consumers want access above all else. Access to the content they want to read, and they don’t give a shit if it’s somehow encumbered with DRM so long as these digital controls don’t get in the way of reading; so long as a frightened industry doesn’t over-reach, as frightened industries so often do.

Digital is an opportunity. It is not, in and of itself, better. It can be better. There’s a chance that this could be done right

Here’s hoping the bores and the old guard don’t screw it up for everyone else — but they probably will, for far longer than necessary.

Sigh.

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What’s next for Lendle?

Over the past two or three weeks, we’ve crossed a few milestones, and we’ve had a chance to evaluate the success of two of our biggest initiatives. What’s next?

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An open letter to Jeff Bezos

Hello, Mr. Bezos.

We’ve been building to this for some time now, but we thought it was high time that we introduce ourselves. We operate what we truly believe to be the most successful Kindle-centric social lending service: Lendle.

We hope we’re already on your radar.

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Why we don’t embrace a “free books” mindset

Everyone loves free, right? We all want to feel like we’re getting something that others are paying for, and bargains are great, especially with the economy still in shambles. Even so, we’ve said since the beginning that we have no interest in being seen as a destination for free content, or as an alternative to purchases.

Of course, we know that people will occasionally tweet about Lendle as a destination for free books. The only thing we can do is control our own messaging to reinforce the image that we’d like to convey.

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Lendle needs your help!

We recently reached out to Alfred A. Knopf books, because we’re keen to start a dialogue about lending and the future of ebooks. 

They’ve responded to our request, and we now have an opportunity to talk with someone in sales at Random House. This is, needless to say, a big deal for us. We obviously don’t know what, if anything, will come of this discussion, but it’s our chance to put forth our best argument for how lending programs can drive book sales.

First and foremost, we really appreciate the opportunity, as we know that Random House is under no obligation to talk with us. Knopf (via Tumblr) followed us, not the other way around, and we think that’s really, really cool. 

How you can help:

Contact us or leave a comment.

Let us know how Lendle has affected your buying and/or reading habits. There’s no need to make anything up, or over-sensationalize your experience — we’re looking for real-world scenarios in which communities like Lendle can have a positive impact on the publishing industry.

We know firsthand that the Lendle community is passionate about reading, we just want to communicate this as best we can to the team at Random House, and see where we can go from there.

We’ve got a lot of internal data that we’ll be able to use, but we think testimonials from paying customers will make a big difference.

Thanks so much!

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