Thread by @seananmcguire

So after a couple "nuke your publisher" comments from yesterday, I got it in my corn-stuffed head that I should explain a bit about how contracts work.

Please note that this thread assumes:

* Traditional publishing
* An agent
* US residence

This is because I'm speaking to my own experience, and am not a world expert in contract law.

A contract is a series of negotiated promises. "I will write a book." "I will give you money." "I will give you that book." "I will publish that book." If a promise is broken at any stage, you could be in breech of contract (or your publisher could).

Step one: "I will write a book." Most people don't get contracts unless this step has been completed, unless they have a pre-existing relationship with their publisher. At this point, I get series contracts for books that don't exist, because they want to keep me focused.

But if you're an aspiring or pre-published author, step one is really not going to apply to you often, if ever.

Step two: "I will give you money." A book advance is functionally a forever loan against presumed future earnings, which is why authors talk about "earning out," IE, making back out advance so the publisher will give us another one.

Even an author who often earns out, or has earned out in the past, is not guaranteed to earn out in the future. Mira Grant's Newsflesh trilogy has earned out. Parasitology has not, which is why I shill it more.

Step three: "I will give you the book." Usually, some money will have gone to the author while they're still editing/revising/refining the book for publication. The publisher has less money and nothing they can release until the author hands the manuscript over.

Finally, step four: "I will publish the book." Pretty self-explanatory.

I want to roll back a bit, though, to "I will give you money." This is where my assumption of being in the US comes to the party. See, however much the publisher agrees to pay you, they're unlikely to give you all that money at one time.

Let's say you get lucky and get offered more than the average advance for your first novel--$12k instead of $10k. (This is because I want our number to be divisible by three.)

This doesn't mean your new publisher hands you a happy check for $12,000. It means they give you three checks, for signing the contract, delivering the book, and when they agree that the book is ready for publication (acceptance).

Under normal circumstances, IE, both parties are doing their best to uphold the contract, that money is yours/your estate's, and no one will ask for it back. So if hyenas eat you between checks two and three, the publisher will not be harassing your estate for the money.

It has just been pointed out to me that breeches are trousers, and we're talking about winding up in breach, IE, violation, of contract. Please do not figure out how to go into the trousers of contract.

Anyway...it's a good thing the publisher won't be harassing your estate, because in the US at least, writing income is taxed as self-employment, at what is functionally a 1/3rd flat tax, regardless of income level.

So your first-book $12k contract is really a first-book $8k contract, when all is said and done.

(And that assumes you live in a place without state income tax, otherwise you're not keeping the full $8k.)

Things contracts include: who retains which rights to the work. I retain merchandising rights, translation rights (which we then try very hard to sell to other publishers), amusement park rights (a real carve-out), and others. My publisher retains the right to release the book.

This is to make sure I can't sue them for actually doing what they promised to do. There are usually also clauses about WHEN they will release the book, guaranteeing a time period after acceptance, so they can't bury my work.

(This would not be a fiscally sensible choice on their part, since again, they've paid me by this point, but it must have happened in the past. Contracts are like pearls; every standard layer came about because someone annoyed the oyster.)

Some contracts, usually for work-for-hire books or tie-in work, will have morality clauses, saying that the author can't defame the company or otherwise bring shame upon their door.

These are not standard in publishing anymore, mostly because we're all feral attic creatures, and no one understands our morality well enough to police it, but they can still be inserted into the boilerplate. Your agent will take it out if they can.

My contract DOES NOT include the right or ability to dictate how anyone associated with the company does business. I don't get to set payroll terms or dictate hiring. Not even Stephen King has that authority, although his voice is absolutely bigger than mine.

I research the publishers I work with thoroughly before I sign contracts with them. This doesn't protect me from their future choices, any more than it protects them from mine.

I could, if I chose, withdraw unpublished books from my publishers, thus putting myself into breach of contract, and creating one of the few circumstances under which I would be expected to pay back an advance.

Remember that 1/3rd flat tax I mentioned? Well, odds are good I've already paid it, because I pay taxes on a quarterly basis. So if I'm returning $6,000 of a $9,000 contract, I'm finding $2k of that money in my savings.

I presume I'd get the $2k I paid on money I didn't get to keep back come refund time, but in the meanwhile, I didn't get the $6k I was counting on from that contract, I don't have a book to sell, and I don't have $2k of my savings.

So no, "my publisher did something I don't like, I'm going to break all my contracts and walk away, wrapped in my own righteousness!" doesn't work for all, or even most, of us. It would financially and professionally ruin me. I'd lose the house.

The fact that I'm an author who was able to buy a house is already a miracle. I love my house. I am proud of my house. I refuse to lose my house if there's anything I can do to prevent it. I've been homeless. I'm not going back.