LET us imagine you’ve sold that book you’ve been working on for years. Say, too, that you and your publisher have hammered out the broad terms of a deal you can live with. When the contract shows up in your inbox, you may well let loose a private little whoop of joy. You might even post a picture of it online so you can bask in all the likes from your writer friends.
But then you have to read the thing.
As anyone who has seen a book contract can tell you, it is a long, dense, at times confusing document. And once you get past the big-ticket items like your advance and the subsidiary rights you’re electing to keep or let the publisher have, a book contract is packed with boilerplate language that spells out the obligations between you and your publisher, some subtle, some of which may never come into practice. But, as with any legal document, you need to read it carefully to protect yourself in case something unexpected does happen.
Literary agents, who spend their lives negotiating book contracts, are your chief advocates and advisers here. If you don’t have an agent, you can hire a lawyer with experience in publishing contracts. If you want to educate yourself about the process, the Authors Guild (authorsguild.org) offers a useful “Model Trade Book Contract,” with standard contract language and commentary explaining what each provision means.
Ultimately, though, two factors will determine whether the contract you sign protects or costs you. The first
