Books are pretty boring. This is likely part of their charm. In a fragmented media landscape predicated on multi-device viewing and information overload, books are wonderfully anachronistic.
Unlike apps, streamers or interactive media, books make readers use their imaginations and demand their undivided attention. In a post-literate age, where we convey emotion with emojis and create most content through prompt engineering rather than personal introspection, books are one of the final vestiges of the analog age (even when accessed on ereaders).
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But unlike other ancient artifacts of their era, like pagers, mall food courts, or music on MTV, books are still around – and while not exactly thriving, the publishing industry has proven rumors of its death have been greatly exaggerated.
And like cockroaches, Twinkies, or Toyota trucks, they’re likely to not only survive society’s digital transformation, but are likely to outlast us all.
Like that Twilight Zone episode where the avid bibliophile who welcomes the apocalypse as a way to catch up on his reading, books remain one of the simple pleasures of solitude, a welcome respite from being constantly connected and always available (as long as you don’t break your only pair of glasses, that is).
There are a few trends that have impacted what’s remained a medium that has remained largely static since the introduction of the printing press and moveable typefaces, particularly in regards to the way they’re packaged, published and publicized.
The publishing industry has obviously contracted significantly since it hit historical highs for both aggregate revenue and production volume right around the time that Bush Senior invaded Kuwait and MC Hammer was topping the charts (although Stephen King, John Gresham and the Bible remain constant fixtures atop most every bestseller list, much like they were back in the days of VHS rentals, sweeps weeks and DOS computing).
Publishers have consolidated, like any other sector within the broader media landscape, the victim of private equity financial engineering, market share shifting to self publishing and digital distribution and, of course, the Internet and its manifold manifestations; the latter, of course, was originally treated as an existential threat to traditional publishing, rather than as a force multiplier for an industry that’s lost a lot of its luster – and working capital – in the intervening, digitally dominated decades.
The fact is, however, that the Internet has actually become one of the major forces driving the growth of both book sales and audience for traditional publishing houses.
This has only accelerated as venture capital and institutional investments have flowed into the publishing ecosystem; for example, Bookshop.org, a closely held online bookstore and erstwhile Amazon competitor (at least in a single category) reported record earnings in 2025, with sales up 55% YoY – not too bad for a platform specializing in independent authors and specialty titles about largely esoteric subjects that are more niche than Korean Sageuk period pieces or the collected works of Robert Eggers.
Similarly, #booktok generates hundreds of millions of impressions every month, with tens of thousands of creators cranking out content promoting the newest titles and most interesting releases – most of which are from mainstream publishers.
There’s even a concerted movement to transform the TikTok Shop into the next Kindle ebook store, a distribution channel that would inevitably expand readership and reach to new markets and audiences.
And, of course, AI is constantly cranking out full novels, non-fiction titles, and even reference books – although the distinction between non-fiction and fiction is somewhat blurred when it’s bylined by an LLM that’s got neither sentience nor autobiographical memory, although that didn’t stop Hemingway from snagging a couple of Pulitzers.
Publishers Aren’t Clearing House. They’re Growing, Fast.
Publishing is unique among other mainstream media and entertainment sectors, largely because they remain insular, incestuous and out of the public eye, although the average reader is probably way less interested in the mechanics of manuscript proofing, galley designs and print production than they are with Hollywood soundstages, TV sets or recording studios.
The industry barely registers with the average person buying a book at a chain bookstore, a local retailer or on Amazon. Unlike film or TV, publishing houses don’t lead with their logo (and bumpers mean something entirely different than in these genres); admittedly, ISBN numbers aren’t nearly as compelling as IMDB scores.
But it remains a lucrative, albeit insular, corner of the media market, flooded with startup imprints and erstwhile disruptors trying to challenge business as usual in an unusually usual business (think A24 or Blumhouse, but for books).
Of course, the industry is still dominated by the Big Five publishers – the ones with the power to get included on Oprah’s lists, the scale to corner the airport and beach markets with overpriced genre titles in hardcover formats, and the influence to convince mainstream readers that Dan Brown is a compelling storyteller, or EL James, Dean Koontz or Lee Child are competent writers with a sophisticated understanding of the English language.
The Big Five, for those who aren’t familiar, consist of HarperCollins, Hachette, Macmillan, Penguin Random House and Simon & Shuster, which aren’t exactly household brands (unlike, say, Pixar or Netflix) but control something like 60% of the global publishing market, a far bigger share than the studios, networks or steamers enjoy in their respective media markets.
So, while the industry manages to enjoy lucrative margins, impressive profits and relatively low overhead costs, it’s also so opaque that it’s largely inscrutable outside of a few powerful editors and a handful of industry insiders who aren’t even well known or widely recognized outside the few blocks of midtown Manhattan that remain the epicenter of the publishing world.
But in an industry which places an enormous premium on narrative and fundamentally sound storytelling, it’s only apropos to shed a light on an overlooked, but strangely lucrative and inordinately powerful, corner of the media landscape.
While the industry thrives on stasis and the status quo, which makes perfect sense given their product is predominantly print, there are some profound shifts and emerging trends reshaping the foundations of how publishing works, how the industry is evolving to meet consumer demand and audience expectations in the age of digital entertainment and AI content, and, most importantly, how they’re leading a resurgence in reading and the resurrection of books as a mainstream medium.
Books are a growing business, believe it or not; people are reading more titles, buying more books in more formats and through more channels than at any point since Facebook was first founded. The overarching narrative – and industry wide anxiety – that no one reads anymore, and that traditional books and long form content are as dead as mimeographs or MySpace – is a familiar story (judging from media coverage and online sentiment). It’s also a work of total fiction.
Because if you take a look, we’re still into books – and the reading rainbow follows a pretty impressive – if counterintuitive – growth curve.
But don’t take my word for it…
1. Planned Obsolescence Becomes Big Business for Publishers
At the 2026 American Booksellers Association Winter Institute (sounds like a bitchin’ party, right?), publishing industry analysts – likely not a growth industry – pointed to a surprisingly durable, and increasingly prevalent, publishing trend.
Books are now becoming what marketers call “passion purchases,” which means that even as consumers cut back on spending and limit discretionary purchases, the money that they are spending on non-essential items is being directed towards titles that provide escapism, feel meaningful or enriching, or are just a relatively inexpensive diversion in increasingly dystopian times. This is one recession indicator we can fully embrace.
The underlying driver behind this trend is the rise of what’s being called “analog living” – a broader cultural shift where consumers actively seek offline, tactile experiences as a counterbalance to digital overload. Books are at the center of this movement, alongside other old person hobbies like journaling, crafts, or yelling at those damned hippies to stay off your porch.
Booksellers are leaning into this behavior by merchandising around lifestyle rather than genre, with many creating dedicated “analog living” sections in stores. The implication is clear: books aren’t just competing with other books. They’re competing with myriad forms of digital distraction and disposable distractions – and they’re actually winning.
Consumers today want focus, intention and are able to disconnect – and in this, authors have a decided advantage over algorithms that no AI can possibly erode. Which is pretty cool, if we’re being honest.
Read more: Book Sales Bolstered by Interest in “Analog Living“ (Publishers Weekly)
Why This Matters for Your Career
This is less about publishing and more about the economics of attention, which is a noxious phrase and cloying buzzword that hides a simple truth: attention is the only currency with real value in media economics today.
With books being framed as an upmarket, discretionary and intentional purchase, the ability to create long form content capable of holding audience attention for longer than a swipe or soundbite becomes disproportionately more valuable.
This is true across mediums, from writing to marketing, from product to people ops – and pretty much any job, entertainment or not, that requires negotiation, persuasion or communication. There are a ton of people in the workforce capable of producing “content,” but with AI, that capability is a commodity.
The real skill – and the biggest differentiator – involves creating content that can sustain interest and keep audiences engaged. Compelling voice, tone and style are becoming increasingly rare as AI slop becomes more prevalent, and those skills are key to career success, particularly as a creative.
As consumers embrace the lost art of analog living, the increasing backlash against the ubiquity of digital technologies is a strong market signal that depth, subtext and lived experience is back in style – or at least, back in demand. If you can explain concepts clearly, concisely and persuasively, if you can structure an argument, or tell convincing stories, or just make people care about content without relying on some digital dopamine hit, you’re going to have a real advantage in the workplace, and in your career.
Let everyone else optimize for clicks and likes. Conversion matters the most, and with content, increasingly, that involves less prompt engineering and more critical thinking – good news for anyone in media and entertainment, but less so for anyone too busy generating text to even think about subtext.
2. Pulp Fiction and Reading Realities
While scripted entertainment has long embraced genre projects – from spaghetti Westerns to Kung Fu flicks, from high fantasy to lowbrow comedy, the publishing industry has historically been somewhat resistant to genre fiction, dismissing these titles less as literary novels and more like niche novelties.
Then, they discovered what audiences were already clamoring for, an emerging genre with an unfortunate name: “romantasy.” Barf. But publishers quickly realized that this paperback portmanteau was quietly setting sales records and carving out an extremely lucrative new category that proved to be in demand with most casual readers (and even some non-readers, honestly).
Sales of science fiction, fantasy or most notably, titles combining these two disparate genres, surged by more than 41% year over year. The rise of Romantasy caught publishers by surprise, having emerged as a cultural phenomenon largely thanks to the booming BookTok community.
This spike in sales isn’t limited to “romantasies,” of course – overall, fiction is rebounding in relative popularity, with sales in this category increasing by at least a third every year since 2023; today, fiction has pushed total sales to record revenue levels. Conversely, non-fiction sales are starting to slide, suggesting what entertainment pros intuitively know: escapism will always prove more popular than education, no matter what the medium.
This has historically been more pronounced during economic downturns, which is why the Great Depression led to what’s widely seen as the Golden Age of Hollywood, when the Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, Stage Coach and Ninotchka were all released in the same calendar year.
Romantasies might not have the same sort of staying power as these classic titles, but for now, they’re somehow making publishing a growth industry, which is almost as impressive a feat as shooting the Burning of Atlanta on Cinemascope or creating the land of Oz by processing 35mm in Technicolor.
The takeaway is pretty simple: social media isn’t killing reading, it’s amplifying its importance as a cultural touchstone. Platforms like TikTok are reshaping what gets read, which authors get discovered, and which genres or titles are most in demand.
Publishers, meanwhile, are finally starting to pay attention – and the result are record profits and a wider audience for literary fiction than at any point since the Victorian and Gilded Age authors were literally cranking out the classics. Rebecca Yarros might be the Emily Bronte or George Elliot of our generation – both were widely panned by critics when their most famous works were originally published, too.
Read more: Romantasy and BookTok Driving Huge Rise in Fiction Sales (The Guardian)
Why This Matters for Your Career
Here’s a paradox: the same platforms conventional wisdom blamed for destroying attention spans and killing book sales are now driving some of the fastest growing segments in the publishing industry. That should tell you all you need to know about how influence works in 2026, who’s shaping our culture, and how taste has gone from individual preference to collective conversation.
People don’t browse bookstores anymore, but that doesn’t mean that discovery isn’t imperative for publishing sales. Instead of consumers casually scanning shelves, algorithms actively suggest titles they might like, authors they should read, and which books are capturing the zeitgeist – or at least, social media views and likes. BookTok doesn’t promote a publishing imprint or amplify critical favorites, and it isn’t a fan community for a particular genre or author.
Instead, it creates demand at scale by creating awareness and conversations – and is a powerful force for turning midlist authors into commercial juggernauts, or overlooked indie titles into franchisable IP. This is pretty powerful for publishers – and creatives across sectors and industries, too.
Whether you’re selling software, peddling insurance policies or trying to recruit candidates, influence is no longer about reach; it’s about finding the right networks to amplify reach to relevant audiences, and capitalizing on word of mouth instead of paid ads and promotional materials.
The professionals who will best leverage this dynamic aren’t necessarily the ones producing the most content quantity, or even the highest content quality. They’re the ones who implicitly understand how to put networks to work, who know how ideas spread, how trends are validated and how word of mouth works at the scale of social media.
If you take the time to really know your audience, chances are, your audience will really get to know you, too.
3. Listen In: The False Dichotomy of Digital Media
Podcasts have long been one of the hottest growth categories in the industry ever since NPR released Serial a decade ago. From Amazon to Apple to Alphabet, some of the biggest players in the tech space have made significant investments in podcast production and distribution, bridging the tenuous divide – and proving the potential payoff from partnerships – between traditional and digital media.
Tech companies have made significant inroads into audio entertainment, but the truth of the matter is, publishers built those capabilities as part of their core business model decades before the word “podcast” was even invented. Books on tape have been around since the mid 80s, and have provided an important ancillary revenue stream even after the tapes themselves slid into obsolescence (they’re now “audiobooks,” a shift that started when Mark Cuban successfully scaled, then exited, Audible).
Even after migrating to streaming platforms and switching to SaaS based subscription models, audiobooks have remained something of a cash cow for major publishers and authors. Unlike podcasts, audiobooks aren’t masquerading as an emerging medium or distinct media sector. Their value proposition remains more or less unchanged: you can listen to books, rather than read them.
That’s not very sexy, and it’s certainly not disruptive or innovative by any standard, but audiobooks are one of the rarest categories within the broader media landscape: they’re enjoying significant growth in both listeners and revenue without pretending to be anything more than, well, books on tape.
According to the Audio Publishers Association, US audiobook revenue hit $2.2 billion last year, up 13% from 2024. With the exception of a brief, inevitable post-pandemic slowdown, the audiobook industry has seen double digit growth YoY since sales were first tracked back in 2006. When it comes to top line revenue, though, digital formats now account for 72% of all publishing industry profits.
As impressive a signal as those revenue numbers are, audiobooks’ reach is even more telling. In a recent survey, over half of all US adults – roughly 134 million people – reported listening to an audiobook in the last 24 months. Of those, around one in three consume books exclusively through this format; one in five audiobook buyers report never having purchased a print book at all.
Obviously, what used to be a niche format is now more mainstream than cable television or broadcast news, at least in terms of overall audience numbers. Podcasting led to an explosion in audio based digital media, and the publishing industry has been quick to capitalize on this shift in consumer behavior.
Now, let’s be clear: audiobooks aren’t actually replacing real books. They’re simply expanding the market and audience for existing titles while generating more money for authors and publishers alike, a virtuous cycle that’s projected to continue for the foreseeable future. Which is good news for anyone in the business of books – audio or otherwise.
Read more: US Audiobook Sales Reach $2.2 Billion (Publishing Perspectives)
Why This Matters for Your Career
Here’s the awkward takeaway: audiobooks, like podcasts, have gained popularity because they don’t demand full attention, allowing for multitasking and fitting into most people’s lifestyles much more cleanly than traditional reading, which requires focus, time and effort. The market is pretty clear: books are back, but audiobooks succeed far better at scale.
For anyone working in media or entertainment, the fact that convenience matters far more than convention for consumers is pretty clear evidence that the fundamental rules of the industry have shifted. Media pros no longer simply compete for attention – they’re competing for a fractional amount of attention, even though that attention is already fragmented, and increasingly finite.
This changes how media professionals should think about structuring and communicating ideas and concepts. Shorter doesn’t necessarily mean better (as this newsletter should hopefully prove) – in fact, length doesn’t matter all that much. Format matters more than substance to most audiences today, and deliverability and accessibility matter as much as the actual content.
Professionals who can adapt to the reality of fragmented audiences and alternative formats should find more success, simply because their content will reach more people. The creatives who insist that their work demands captive audiences and undivided attention will keep creating prestige projects for audiences that don’t really exist anymore.
There’s no money in this approach, to be sure, but at least they’ll be able to comfort themselves knowing that they never sold out. It’s a time honored media tradition that’s at least as old as experimental film and arthouse cinema, and just about as effective for building long term creative careers.
4. You Don’t Need a Bigger Advance. You Need a Longer Runway.
The barrier to publishing a book used to be the publishers themselves. Most career writers received far more rejection letters from editors than actual redlines – that is, for the few imprints that actually accepted open submissions. Otherwise, breaking in used to require a little talent and a ton of luck.
Now, becoming a published author involves having a decent WiFi connection, an inflated sense of self worth and enough disposable income to buy your way to “Amazon best seller” status, like everyone else on LinkedIn (note: technically, there can only be one bestselling author at a time, so these claims seem somewhat spurious).
According to recently published data, more than 4 million books were published in the US alone in 2025 – which represents a jump of 32.5% from the previous year. Of course, these volume gains aren’t because the Big 5 and other traditional publishers are significantly expanding their slates. It’s because traditional publishers are no longer necessary to become a published author at all.
In fact, of those 4 million books, over 3.6 million titles were entirely self-published and self-funded, a staggering 38.7% increase compared to the previous year. By comparison, traditional publishing only grew around 6.6% in 2025, responsible for putting around 650,000 new titles into print (impressive growth numbers, nevertheless).
As publishing tools have become cheaper and more accessible, and the barriers to entry have eroded thanks to the proliferation of online platforms and ebook retailers, people who have no business bylining anything but an expense report or internal memo now self-identify as “published authors.”
Which has to be worth something, even if every unit they paid to produce is still boxed up, collecting dust in the corner of some storage unit.
Maybe it’s a cool flex on LinkedIn, or maybe it’s just a complete lack of self-awareness, but the fact is, you don’t need writing talent, connections, or even something to say in order to get an ISBN number, a dust jacket, and a dedication page.
But let’s be clear: optics aside, self-publishing is not the same as actually being published. Self-published authors pay for the privilege (and the entire production run); published authors are paid an advance, plus revenue sharing and royalties. Self-published authors write for themselves; published authors write for their audience.
Conflating these concepts not only diminishes the accomplishments of real writers, editors and publishing houses – it threatens their continued existence.
While self-published titles are driving most of the sector’s recent growth, the proliferation of these vanity projects has quickly led to the market being oversaturated and diluted for traditional publishers and actual authors.
The fact that there are now an unprecedented number of books available sounds like an industry accolade and significant achievement – until you realize that availability, visibility and capability are all distinctly different concepts. And if you really care about the future of publishing, then stop paying to do it yourself and invest that money in buying real books, instead.
Read more: Books Topped out at 4 Million in 2025 (Publishers Weekly)
Why This Matters for Your Career
It’s never been easier to create and publish something; conversely, it’s never been harder to get anyone to notice, much less actually read the damned thing. To be fair, this dynamic isn’t unique to publishing – it applies to brand marketing, corporate communications, talent acquisition, project management and pretty much every other discipline that involves transforming ideation into action.
The cost of production has collapsed along with the proliferation of digital tools and platforms; the cost of building an audience or gaining any sort of attention has skyrocketed so much it’s more or less untenable for the economics of the publishing industry.
CEOs and thought leaders with influencer marketing budgets are almost impossible to compete with, especially if for unproven writers, midtier authors or smaller imprints. Publishing used to be all about access. Now, it’s all about differentiation. And with more than 4 million new titles hitting the market in a single year, even having world class writing talent and top quality content is no longer a competitive advantage.
Some of these new books, even the self-published ones, will be good. A handful will be great. Almost all of them will be completely invisible to real readers and actual audiences. This isn’t meritocracy, or democratizing an elitist, insular and inaccessible industry. It’s kinda stupid, and totally specious.
If you have the ability to create content worth paying attention to, have something worth saying, and a distinct story, style and voice that resonates with readers, then you just might succeed in publishing. If you can only create content, then you’re one of four million other aspiring authors all talking about the same stuff at the same time.
And when it gets that loud, no one ever hears a word.
Final Thoughts: You Can Land A Deal But Still Lose The Plot
This is, obviously, a pretty strange and totally abnormal moment for the publishing industry – growth is steady, headcount and budgets are growing, and more readers are consuming more books than ever before.
At the same time, the public perception of publishing as a dying industry or legacy medium has become conventional wisdom, and many professionals are no longer pursuing publishing careers as a result of these myths and misconceptions.
Here’s what the actual market data says: growth expectations for 2026 and beyond remain positive, industry-wide revenues are on a long term upward trajectory, subscription led models have created unprecedented stability, and digital growth appears to support, rather than displace, print sales and associated profits.
Books aren’t back because reading suddenly became cool again, or people finally got bored with doom scrolling and social media. Books are back because the economics and ecosystem have shifted significantly, keeping pace with constantly changing consumer preferences and buyer behaviors.
The publishing industry has spent the last two decades convinced it was contracting because it dismissed significant challenges with traditional formats, pricing models and distribution networks with “people don’t read books anymore.” Books were never the problem, and most people never stopped reading them.
It just became way harder to find them, afford them and consume them in formats that fit into our existing lifestyles and consumption patterns. Once the publishing industry started solving for those underlying issues, books suddenly became relevant again, even though people never stopped reading them.
Unlike this newsletter, which people probably stopped reading a couple thousand words ago, minimum.
Burn after reading,
Matt Charney
Executive Editor, Mediabistro
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