TokyoPop has announced that several of their titles will be sold to the public exclusively on their website. I am pretty sure that this will turn out to be a disappointment for them in terms of sales since online sales for a single book have never been all that great -- even at Amazon.com which is one of the most visited on-line bookstores in the nation. But I can understand why their doing it.

First, a little background. All of the production costs and licensing fees of a book are paid by the publisher. But despite that, the publisher usually only gets about a quarter of the cover price. The bookstore usually gets the book at about half price and the distributor's cut is about half of that half. Thus if a book sells, the bookstore gets about 50% of the cover price, the distributor gets another 25% and the publisher gets the remaining 25%. The publisher's 25% pays for licensing, freelance talent, and all of the salaries and business expenses of the publisher. That means that a publisher needs to sell probably somewhere between 7000 and 10,000 books to simply break even (more if you're selling for a lower cover price). There are a lot of books that don't sell that well, so the publisher needs a few break-out hits to balance out a number of books that are a drag on the company's profits.

Now I have never worked for or with TokyoPop, so this is all speculation, but remember that I've been in a similar position and had to make similar decisions.

Let's say a publisher has a book that they started to try to license a year or so ago. It takes a long time to get production up and running so proposing a contract a year or more in advance is not all that unusual these days. Last year, while trying to figure out whether to license it or not, the publisher made inquiries to the chain bookstores and other influential sources to get a ball-park guess of how many copies they would expect to order. Let's say that the buyers weren't thrilled with it, but they gave guesses that would make the manga profitable in the long run, so the publisher went ahead and proposed terms to the people representing the mangaka based on those guesses.

Fast forward a half year or so, and all the details are worked out on the contract, so finally the editorial department can begin production on it.

Fast forward another three or four months, and the in the last 3/4 of a year, the market has changed. The shelves have been filling up with popular series that have upwards of 20 volumes each, and the more marginal titles are being squeezed off the shelves. And a major buyer says, "Sorry, but shelf space is tight and your new title has just a little too much sex/violence to bet on. We're revising our order numbers way down." (Remember that this is speculation. The chain-store buyers may not have ever had a chance to see the manga or make an estimate before being asked to make their final orders.)

Suddenly the publisher is looking at a book that has already had a pretty big investment in production and advances on royalties for the mangaka. The publisher realizes that now the book won't even make up the printing costs, let alone licensing fees and production costs and business expenses. But the contracts are already signed, and the publisher is committed to putting out the book, so what does one do?

Go back up and read the second paragraph, and you'll have an answer. If the distributor is cut out completely, and the retailer is the publisher itself, then instead of working with 25% of the cover price, the publisher now has 100% of the cover price to work with. Sure there are extra costs inherent with working one's own retail outlet, but they (hopefully) won't add up to 75% of the cover price.

So, how about a discount as Brigid of MangaBlog was looking for? Well, that's the problem with the contract being last-year's contract. A 3rd-party retail outlet can put on any discount it wants as long as they pay the agreed-upon wholesale price to the distributor, but unless the publisher has worked a retail discount for itself into the original contract with the mangaka, the publisher is contractually bound to sell the book to the public at the cover price.

I think Chris Butcher of Comics 212 and Dave Taylor of Love Manga are a little off base when they think that TokyoPop is "biting the hand that feeds it" when it decides to do an on-line exclusive. Every publisher would like to get the books into the retail outlets because that is where the shoppers are. More than likely, the retail chains bit TokyoPop's hand first by deciding on low orders. (Actually, I doubt anybody bit anybody's hand here. These decisions were probably made by looking at the numbers on both sides. I doubt there are any hard feelings on either side over these books.)

In any case, I would like to see TokyoPop's experiment succeed. If a publisher can sell weird and off-beat manga from their site and still make a profit, it means that there is a viable avenue for things like more Josei manga, more quirky seinen manga, more older manga, and more of any other genre that doesn't do well in retail by giving them a way of succeeding on fewer units sold.

I wish TokyoPop all the luck in the world with this experiment.

Edit: My apologies to anyone who thought that the percentages that I listed above were the actual percentages negotiated with the distributors and retail outlets. They are very general ball-park figures in order to illustrate that the publisher gets a much smaller percentage than most laymen assume. You can figure a margin of error of up to 10% on these figures. In my own defense, these are percentages that I would use when trying to calculate whether a manga series we were looking at would be profitable or not. The actual percentages are slightly better for the publisher, but also remember that the publisher eats the returns, so in reality if the book sells poorly, the publisher's cut could be even worse.

Posted by dojosensei at 10:27 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

As probably happens to quite a few blogs, other things in the world intrude, and the blogging has to take second fiddle to real life. For me, it's the knowledge that I'm going to have to rent a Japanese apartment (about 2 months of rent up-front for first-month and deposit, and about 3 months worth of rent in a never-seen-again institutionalized bribe they call "key money." That means it costs you $4000 at the start to get into an $800/month apartment), but also that I'm going to have to get serious about getting rid of this mass of clutter I call an apartment while at the same time meeting my deadlines. There's also the visa stuff and other personal business...

The saving grace is that in previous years in Japan, I find that my writing increases dramatically when I get over there. Writing has been a good substitute for therapy when I need to get frustrations out or just feel like communicating in English. So the blog should pick up pretty well a week or two after arriving in Japan.

But also, in the meantime, there are days when I just have to run on at the keyboard, and this is my site for that. It won't be regular, but I imagine there will be things to get off my chest before the move as well.

So the dojo will be mostly self-study for present. Anyone who needs a question answered, Contact Sensei still works, and I can usually get a response out in a few days of receiving the question or comment. But unfortunately Sensei's Ramblings will not be an everyday affair for a few months. Sorry about that.

Talk to you soon,
Sensei

Posted by dojosensei at 08:11 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

After my first fly-by-night manga company flew by night, I still had work with Studio Nemo doing anime translations and subtitles, so I wasn't desperate. But the anime companies were basically paying rates that would make one person a nice middle-class living -- but that money went to three of us. So I went in search of more manga work.

Searching for manga work isn't all that difficult. You send out query letters and e-mail to any company that is doing even similar things to what you are doing. A Japanese subsidiary company was putting out English-language versions of children's books based on the Miyazaki movies, so I bought one, sent in a letter praising it, sent in a few pamphlet manga of the work I had done previously, and left with the parting phrase, if you need any translation work done...

It was a fortuitous letter because at that very time, they were looking for new translators. (Don't be too surprised. I wouldn't doubt that at this very moment, there are manga companies that have just had several new titles licensed, and their managing editors are right now wondering who they can give the work to.) The company almost immediately sent me an artbook to translate, and they indicated that they had manga work coming down the line.

This subsidiary company had one reason for existing. They had a partnership with a major Japanese games producer to publish their accompanying magazine, and they knew that if the games producer ever wanted to take over the publishing of the magazine themselves, the subsidiary company would fold, and everyone would be out of jobs.

This led to a get-rich-quick attitude among the subsidiary company. The odd thing is the parent company had some great titles, and if the subsidiary company had taken the long view to building up a line of manga and anime-related items over a period of time, they might have weaned themselves gradually off of the magazine-only existence. But instead they expected everything they put out to sell huge and solve their problems all at once. A computer-based naked-eye 3-D book sold well, but not as well as they expected. (I had to learn how to cross my eyes, and make out the 3-D image in order to translate that one.) The manga I translated hit 147 on the Diamond charts for a month when most of the most popular manga were hovering around the mid 200s, but they were hoping for a number much higher. And they entrusted a Miyazaki movie to Troma Entertainment for distribution (famous for B-movies like Toxic Avenger) and were disappointed when it didn't bring in the ticket sales they hoped for. I remember looking at a newspaper in Tucson and finding out that the movie was playing. There was no advertisement and no description. Just the text of the title in a little box.

Basically, what it meant was that they put out relatively successful products that were well made and popular among the small audience that existed. But they weren't interested in that small audience, they wanted to be moguls. Within a few years, the company was no more. I honestly don't know what happened to it since my association with them ended with the conclusion of the manga, but they certainly didn't seem to be following a path toward lasting success.

Is there a lesson for a translator in this? Not really. The freelancer treats this kind of company with the same respect due to any company. But if you see this kind of compulsion in one of the companies you work for, you will want to make sure you are working regularly for at least one other company as well.

Posted by dojosensei at 10:54 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Sorry for the sudden disappearance. A manga had to be finished and sent to the publisher, and I needed to set aside just about everything and finish it. These outages may happen from time to time.

Posted by dojosensei at 10:48 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

When I was living in Japan, there was a small band who played some of the towns between Shinjuku and Mitaka in small live clubs. Their name was Hotel-NoTell, and they were made up of (if I remember correctly) two Fins, an American and a Japanese. They mostly played covers to groups like Dire Straits (note-for-note on the guitar licks). What I do remember correctly is the lyrics of my favorite original song of theirs. Ore wa Gaijin.

Ore wa gaijin, koko wa Tokyo;
Ore wa gaijin, koko wa Tokyo;
Dôzo yoroshiku, Eigo no sensei da zo.

Oyako-don ga daisuki, natto ga daikirai;
Oyako-don ga daisuki, natto ga daikirai;
Ore no Nihongo, amari jôzu ja nai.

It translates out to:
I'm a foreigner, this is Tokyo;
I'm a foreigner, this is Tokyo;
Nice to meet you, I'm an English teacher.

I love oyako rice-bowl, I hate natto;
I love oyako rice-bowl, I hate natto;
My Japanese isn't very good.

The song described me perfectly. It also described most of the people on my exchange program well enough that it sort of became our anthem.

(By the way, oyako rice-bowl is very much like its more famous cousin katsu-don (pork cutlet rice-bowl) but it has chicken substituted for the breaded pork cutlet. Mmm! And I hate natto also.)

And my Japanese wasn't very good.

The fact is, one can live in Japan, even in a place far away from the American military bases, without learning any more Japanese than greetings. A vocabulary of about twenty-five words can allow you to live for a year or so over there. I know people who have managed it. There are enough signs in roman letters and people who want to speak English that you can get by with a pitiful level of Japanese. It also means that if you're going to live in Japan, it will take a bit of effort to use your Japanese.

The problem isn't whether there is opportunity to speak Japanese. It's all around you. The problem is your own shyness. The unwillingness to make mistakes in front of strangers. The knowledge that you don't really know enough Japanese to get along turns some foreigners into hermits.

Then there is the fact that the Japanese won't expect you to learn Japanese either. When I walked into a store in Japan, the first thing that would happen is the cute girl behind the counter would disappear into the back room. Then out would come a rather embarrassed looking manager -- the guy who has to deal with the foreigner. I'd go up to the man and ask a question in Japanese, and he'd get a very perplexed look on his face. You see, he was so nervous about having to answer in English, that he didn't actually recognize that the words coming out of my mouth were in his language. By the end of the sentence, he caught on. I'd have to repeat what I said, but after that, it became a conversation in Japanese (where he usually had to tell me that he was sorry, but his store didn't carry what I wanted).

When one's hair is blonde, it becomes an opportunity for the Japanese to practice their English -- even after they realize that you speak Japanese. Numbers can be read off of the register when making a purchase. Food is displayed in plastic outside the restaurant, so you can memorize the Japanese characters and point to it on the menu when making your order. Every now and again, you're going to get on the wrong train or bus, but for the most part, you'll be fine without knowing Japanese.

The weird thing is, (as long as you don't look Japanese) it doesn't matter if you make mistakes with your Japanese. Most Japanese people will praise you to the rafters if all you say is konnichi-wa. If you try to make a sentence, most will treat you like a world-class genius. I was pretty introverted myself until I noticed all the praise one gets for even making the attempt. Then I happily made errors with the language all over the place.

Make no mistake, it isn't easy to learn the language, but when you're in Japan, there are a lot of rewards for even broken Japanese.

Posted by dojosensei at 11:52 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Which means that today, I'll be taking another short break to concentrate on work.

But a few quick notes...
Ow! We were number 1, but then came a freight train called Fruits Basket.

If anyone is wondering why my prior 2002: The Odyssey post was so Viz-centric (without searching through the whole dojo for the answer), I was Editor-in-Chief of the Viz editorial department during the time of the change-over.

Garage Sale update: If anyone buys the featured DVD - Dead Again, I'll throw in the Japanese tankôbon for Akazukin Chacha volume 2 for free. Just because I think Dead Again is such a great movie! (But follow the rules at the bottom of the Dead Again Garage Sale page.

Will post tomorrow.

Posted by dojosensei at 10:28 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Okay, so you've gone through your apprenticeship, and now you've managed to get your first professionally translated book published nationally. Congratulations. You have a decision to make.

Is this your profession or your hobby? If it's your hobby, that's great. That means your day job isn't so much a day job as a career, and translating manga and anime is something you do to supplement your income. And when meeting more "mundane" people than your standard anime and manga fan, it will be an interesting way so strike up a conversation. Making money while reading "them comical books" is far more acceptable to the non-fannish world than just reading them.

But if you want to make translation your profession, then you will eventually have to give up your anime and manga hobby, and, for sanity's sake, get yourself a new hobby or two.

It won't happen at first. In the beginning, you will be doing translations on the manga that's assigned to you, and spending your off hours engrossed in the latest book from the company you work for or a competitor's. Or sitting in a darkened room watching the latest anime to come off of Japanese television. But eventually, you will go to one of those "mundane" parties, and after exploring the conversational possibilities of a person who works on odd foreign entertainment, somebody will ask, "So, what do you do for fun?" The glib answer, "With work as fun as this, any other fun would be a letdown," will probably serve to set your conversation partners into polite chuckles, but that doesn't mean you can dodge the question yourself.

If you're doing full-time manga and anime, you need something else. Anything else will do. Most of my hobbies (and I have quite a few) came from things I did with family and friends while growing up or during my college days. For example, I was plenty fannish already when I took up hiking with friends.

The main point is this: when you have to work on your hobby, it's no longer the best hobby in the world for you. Hobbies are meant for relaxation -- taking your mind off of your daily stresses -- and if your hobby includes your daily stress, then it's time to find something else.

There's one other place where a non-anime/manga-related hobby comes in handy. A standard introduction to a Japanese person will usually include the question, "What's your hobby." If you know golf, then you're home free, but if, like me, the links never quite linked to you, then it's best to have another answer ready. Popular hobbies in Japan are sports such as tennis or skiing, studies such as learning a second (third or more?) language, movies, books, or music. But the question is supposed to be a conversation starter, so if your hobby is the same as your conversation partner's, be prepared with a good knowledge of the trivia involved in your stated hobby. And having your hobby be the same as your profession will cut off the conversation pretty quickly.

My suggestion for hobbies is anything that gets you away from your computer. Something that has to deal with the outdoors is probably best, but any change of scenery will help you separate you from the hours you spend with dictionaries and computer files.

Posted by dojosensei at 09:21 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)