Sidebar Saturdays is back. Version 2.0. Same author. Slightly more opinionated.
I took a break from the blog to finish writing a book. The blog went quiet, but publishing law—and the publishing industry—most definitely did not. With a finished manuscript on my desk, patiently and judgmentally awaiting a publishing path, it felt like the right moment to peel back the layers of small press publishing contracts.
For many writers, a small press offer feels like a win. Someone wants the book. Someone believes in the work. The agreement is shorter than a Big Five contract and written in friendlier language. Sometimes the editor even reassures you, “Don’t worry—this is pretty standard.”
That’s exactly why these contracts deserve closer attention.
Small and independent presses aren’t inherently predatory. Many are thoughtful, mission-driven, and genuinely author-friendly. But their contracts often borrow language from much larger publishers—without the institutional guardrails, negotiating norms, or long-term stability that language quietly assumes. Clauses designed for multinational corporations behave very differently when dropped into a five-person press with a Gmail address and a Squarespace site.
What follows is a guide to the provisions writers tend to skim, misunderstand, or trust a little too easily—and what those provisions actually mean in practice. Because in publishing, as in life, the fine print is where the consequences live.
1. The Grant of Rights: More Than It Appears
At the heart of every publishing contract is the grant-of-rights clause. This is often where authors hand over more than they realize—and sometimes more than the publisher can realistically exploit. Foreign and translation rights, audio and film, AI-generated adaptations—suddenly your story is starring in genres you never expected or wanted.
Small press contracts often copy the rights language from Big Five templates dating back to when fax machines were cutting-edge.
Red flags to watch for:
What the contract won’t tell you:
If the publisher never uses those broad rights, you will be barred from exploiting them yourself or licensing them elsewhere.
Ideally, exclusive rights should be limited to:
Foreign-language rights are trickier, but always try to reserve them. If a publisher insists, negotiate a short-term grant—two to three years is plenty. If they don’t publish in that window, the rights should revert automatically.
Also, beware of automatic renewal language. Contracts that renew unless you opt out quietly extend the publisher’s control indefinitely. You can always extend a contract later; renewal should not happen by default.
2. Term Length and Reversion: “Out of Print” Is No Longer a Safety Net
Traditional contracts relied on “out of print” clauses to trigger reversion. Digital publishing quietly erased that protection while everyone argued about ebooks.
Small press contracts often define “in print” as:
That means a book can be effectively dead while legally alive forever—like a zombie with an ISBN.
Authors should try to define “in print” as:
If that fails, negotiate a royalty floor over consecutive accounting periods (not a sales floor). If the book isn’t earning, rights should revert.
What the contract won’t tell you:
Your book can stop earning, stop being marketed, and still never revert.
What to look for:
If reversion requires the publisher’s consent, it’s not really reversion. On reversion, consider requiring the publisher to:
3. Option Clauses: The Quiet Career Bottleneck
Option clauses are common in small-press contracts and often come dressed as flattering: “We want first look at your next book.”
In practice, these clauses can:
What the contract won’t tell you:
Even a non-binding option can effectively freeze your next book if the publisher takes their sweet time.
What to watch for:
Options should be narrow, time-limited, and clearly defined. Your future career should never be held hostage by someone “circling back” like a sequel-hungry vulture.
4. Non-Compete Language That Isn’t Called a Non-Compete
Many small press contracts claim they don’t include non-compete clauses—then sneak them in under different names.
Look for provisions that restrict:
These clauses are often vague, subjective, and enforced at the publisher’s whim.
What the contract won’t tell you:
You may be contractually barred from publishing something unrelated—simply because someone decides it competes. It’s like being grounded for crimes you haven’t even committed yet.
5. Royalties, “Net Receipts,” and Creative Accounting
Small presses often calculate royalties based on net receipts rather than cover price. That’s not automatically unfair—but “net” is actually defined.
Watch for deductions that include:
What the contract won’t tell you:
If “net” is poorly defined, royalties can shrink to nothing without breaching the contract.
Ideally:
Rule of thumb: Clear formulas beat friendly assurances. Every time.
6. Indemnification: When the Risk Flips Entirely to the Author
Indemnification clauses require the author to defend and pay for legal claims—even when the publisher is partly at fault. Small presses often lack insurance or in-house counsel, so risk gets passed ike a hot potato nobody wants to hold.
Red flags include:
Authors often try to:
What the contract won’t tell you:
You could be financially responsible for a lawsuit triggered by the publisher’s own decisions– like being billed for someone else’s parking ticket… but with lawyers.
7. Termination: Who Can Walk Away—and How
Termination clauses often favor the publisher:
What the contract won’t tell you:
If things go wrong, you may be trapped far longer than the publisher—unless you negotiate clear exit language up front.
What writers should insist on:
Rule of thumb: If the publisher can walk away easily, you should be able to do the same. Termination clauses aren’t boilerplate—they decide who keeps control when the relationship falls apart.
8. Copyright Registration: Don’t Assume It Happens
Some small press contracts are silent on who registers the copyright—or when. Silence often means nothing happens.
Ideally, the contract should require the publisher to:
Fixing this later is harder than doing it right the first time—like trying to add forgotten sugar when the cake is already baked.
9. Remainders: When Your Book Is Quietly Written Off
Remaindering provisions often allow publishers to sell books below cost—sometimes with royalties as low as 10% of net receipts.
If the book is finished in the publisher’s eyes, the author should be free to move on. Automatic reversion upon full remaindering is a reasonable ask. Think of it as rescuing your book before it vanishes into bargain-bin oblivion.
10. Subsidiary Rights: The Percentages Matter
If a publisher licenses subsidiary rights, the author’s share should be significantly higher than standard book royalties.
Common industry norms:
If the publisher lacks the reach to exploit these rights effectively, retaining them may be more valuable than any split.
11. Electronic and Digital Rights: Be Specific or Be Careful
Electronic rights clauses are often vague and all-encompassing. Pin down what formats the publisher actually plans to use—and what they don’t.
As for royalties, 25% of net receipts on ebooks is now standard. Anything significantly lower deserves scrutiny—because your digital work shouldn’t vanish into the “we’ll figure it out later” black hole.
12. Publicity and Promotion: At Least a Voice
Many contracts give publishers total control over marketing. While full author consent is rare, a right of consultation—especially where reputation is involved—is reasonable.
Think of it as having a say in how your book gets dressed for the party.
13. Author Copies: A Small Thing That Adds Up
Two free copies is minimal. Many authors successfully negotiate:
This is often an easy concession—and a surprisingly meaningful one. After all, authors still need to show off their own work without selling a kidney.
14. Proofs and Revisions: Know What You’re Paying For
Contracts sometimes require authors to pay for proof changes without limits. A fairer approach caps liability and excludes changes caused by publisher error.
Otherwise, you could end up paying for fixing mistakes you didn’t make—like buying new glasses because someone else scratched the lens.
15. Bankruptcy: The Clause That Sounds Protective—but Isn’t
Bankruptcy clauses promise reversion, but bankruptcy law overrides contracts. A more practical protection is early termination for non-payment or non-reporting—before bankruptcy becomes an issue.
Think of it as getting out of the Titanic before the water reaches your ankles.
16. Clauses Writers Often Forget to Ask For
Advances
Small presses sometimes offer them. Tie payments to signing, delivery, and acceptance—not publication.
Artificial Intelligence
Silence benefits the publisher. Writers should explicitly reserve AI training and derivative rights—otherwise, your book could become tomorrow’s algorithmic training fodder.
17. A Few Notes
Perfect contracts still fail if publishers don’t perform. Before signing, research the press. Track record matters. Reputation matters. None of that appears in the contract—but all of it affects whether the promises are worth the paper they’re printed on.
Large publishers operate under scrutiny and precedent. Small presses often operate on trust. Trust is great—but it’s not a substitute for good contract language.
Final Thought
Publishing contracts are not designed to educate authors. They are designed to allocate rights and risk. Silence is rarely neutral—and optimism is not a legal strategy.
Reading carefully isn’t distrust. It’s professionalism.
Sidebar Saturdays exists to help writers read with open eyes. Stay tuned for a small press contract checklist and practical tips on negotiating without killing the deal.
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Photo Credit: ADArt00090 | Pixabay
Legal Disclaimer: This information is provided for educational purposes only. Consult a qualified lawyer in your jurisdiction for all legal opinions for your specific situation.
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