IT’S summertime and time to kick back and enjoy a magical journey through the pages of a great novel. Trouble is, even the publishers, the gatekeepers of literary culture and taste, are finding great novels about as scarce as dragon’s teeth. The novel has fallen on hard times. While the market for traditional publishers crumbles, this year’s International Publishing Forum at the Hong Kong Book Fair turned its spotlight toward online novels, in the hope of finding a new light to guide them.

A decade ago, 5,000 to 6,000 titles were published locally every year. Those were the peak times. Then, publishing went into decline, said Edmund Chan Ka-yeung, an executive committee member of the Hong Kong Publishing Professionals Society since 2004. Over the past couple of years annual publication of new titles has dropped to 4,000 to 5,000, according to statistics from the Hong Kong Trade Development Council.

Outside the publishing world swirls what amounts to anarchy and the vanguard of a new generation of writers, for whom any lack of talent needn’t be any deterrent. This is the era of self-publishing and where traditional publishers have been losing their market.

Look at the typical e-reader. It’s less a centimetre thick, not much bigger than a leaflet but it holds thousands of books. That’s a big deal when personal space is shrinking. Print books are churned out by the hundreds or even thousands. The copies need to be stored in warehouses for later distribution to retailers.

There is, of course, the critical question of craftsmanship. The skill of the accomplished writer is to contrive unforgettable characters and compelling plots that keep readers turning pages. While there are hundreds of self-published novels online, the majority of their authors haven’t the vaguest notion of the writers’ craft. Here, among the unwashed, go conventional publishers in quest for a few pieces of gold among the tailings of a fading genre, in hope of surviving a few more years.

Jim Yu, editor-in-chief of Idea Publication in Hong Kong, pores over online novels, looking for work that can be turned into hard copy. Already a pioneer in online publishing, he combs through Facebook and the Hong Kong Golden Forum. If he finds a novel with a thousand “likes” he considers that a good sign. He’ll read a quarter or a third of a book, looking for local tags and trending topics on the cultural scene. Then he makes a short list of books he thinks might make it into print.

Yu helped open the door to converting e-books into print, back in 2012. Early demand was promising, but didn’t sustain. Most of the stuff was rubbish. “Numerous e-novels came out as the wave crested. But the poor quality of writing soon knocked down the market. Hong Kong online writers became reluctant to tag their works as e-novels after that,” Yu says.

It’s too early to say whether online novels can rise to a standard high enough to breathe new life into a fading genre. The novel already has withstood the onslaught of radio, television, cinema and the internet. All have taken their toll on the publishing industry.

Sensational reading

There’s also the matter of profit. A debate has been raging for decades about whether the literary novel is a dying genre, spent of creative fuel and exhausted of new ideas. There’s evidence novel reading has exited the mainstream to become a niche diversion.

Yu says he’s not worried. He sees plenty of potential outside the mainstream. He sees gold among diverse cultural communities he believes have been neglected by the publishing industry. He also suspects success in a new era will come from evocative stories loaded with sensational content, in a departure from the “food for thought” offerings of the traditional novel.

In 2012, Yu published Lost on a Red Minibus to Taipo. It became a sensation in Hong Kong’s book market, occupying the best-seller list for months. Then it was adapted for the cinema in 2014. The novel, featuring parallel world travel, biochemical experimentation and the collapse of society, struck a chord among readers of science fiction. Many critics however faulted it for its ending that seemed to defy common sense and logic. It took a view of science that many saw as too fanciful.

Another series published by Yu, Funny Clinic, is written from a nurse’s point of view. It features anecdotes taken from a medical clinic, reading more like a collection of jokes than a novel.

Critics contend online novels, dwelling on horror, crude humour and vulgarity, have diminished the literary value of the genre. The series Deep Web 2.0 File, giving account of murder and sexual abuse, was classified as indecent. Booksellers and publishers were asked to withdraw the book, and repackage it with an appropriate warning for sensitive readers.

Luo Li, the vice-president of China Reading Limited, an online reading and literature platform on the Chinese mainland, says printed versions of online novel should abide by the laws and regulations as other kinds of books, but he disagrees with many common complaints of critics.

More than a book

Yu pays great attention to design, hoping to convert e-books into collectors’ items in an era where space is precious. “E-book readers have advantages for practical use. Publishers should focus on developing the collection value of printed books and position them as rare items instead of common tools,” says Yu, who focuses on bold design and elaborate packaging to impress readers.

London Gold, a novel about financial fraud, is packaged like a gold brick. All sides, even the page edges are in gold. Characters are embossed on the cover and the thick pages add weight. Funny Clinic is printed more like a comic than a novel, with vivid, mischievous cartoons on the cover and on the inside.

While printed editions of online novels have improved publishing sales in Hong Kong after 2012, the outlook is not promising. Yu said books sold over 10,000 copies are considered successful. Those that sell several thousand are “okay”. Luo believes the future of publishing lies in its cooperation with other sectors in the “IP” industry.

“IP”, originally standing for “intellectual property”, specifically refers to online fiction with significant readership, sold for adaptation rights of films, TV series, cartoons and online games.

Fighter of Destiny, an online novel that has been turned into a cartoon, online TV series, and mobile game, is a compelling case in point. The viewership of its online cartoon version has reached eight digits, and the game version, developed by Giant Interactive Group, has created frenzy among fans.

The film adaptation of Lost on a Red Minibus to Taipo, The Midnight After reached a box office of some HK$21 million (US$2.71 million).

“Online novel publishing is still a new business in Hong Kong. I predict there will be more and more people entering this area. I need to figure out more creative ideas to gain comparative advantages,” Yu said.

— China Daily/ Hong Kong

Published in Dawn, July 27th, 2016