Talent, not brand-name, is king in bookstores. Nobody buys "Doubleday novels" or "Penguin novels" the way comics fans used to buy their wares by publisher. Nobody gives a shit who's publishing Tom Clancy or Toni Morrison; should a popular author decide that their contract is insufficient, the trouble taken in walking to a rival publisher when the time comes to renegotiate isn't going to provide much in the way of disincentive. To a certain extent, this principle already exists in the Direct Market; Garth Ennis may write Punisher comics for Marvel, but his next literary collaboration with Preacher artist Steve Dillon is going to be published by DC, where both men know that the end result will have a "© Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon" planted safely in the indicia. Grant Morrison may draw a steady paycheck for New X-Men, but The Filth belongs to him — and Marvel ain't touching it. Neil Gaiman is writing a work-for-hire series from Marvel in order to finance his efforts to re-secure the rights to Miracleman; that doesn't mean he suddenly finds Marvel's contracts attractive enough to bring them his next American Gods. This principle only gets more dramatic in the book trade.

Marvel isn't even in a particularly advantageous position within the graphic-novel section of the bookstore hierarchy. Right now that place is reserved for Tokyopop by a wide margin, and their most worrisome competitor is Viz, not Marvel or DC. In any case, they've got their own plans to attract talent.

Marvel's approach to bookstore success — using pre-owned characters to make one's mark, thus ensuring total ownership of any and all profits and ancilliary benefits — is dictated by the mountain of debt it inherited from Ron Perelman, more than anything else. As stated previously, Marvel is less a publishing house than an intellectual-property farm these days, and its ultimate benefactor is not Barnes & Noble but rather the movie theater and Toys R Us. Because the company has to keep the licensing money flowing or die, it cannot afford too many publishing successes which involve giving half the proceeds to the creators. This motivation drives all else, and if it means publishing takes a back-seat then so be it. How else could you possibly explain Marvel's half-assed presence at the recent BookExpo America? The Pulse's Heidi MacDonald attended this year's BEA, and for the most part returned with nothing but praise for the graphic-novel publishing contingent — all but one company:

"Finally, Marvel's presence was definitely a let down, consisting of a single table manned by someone who had been working there for approximately 10 days. 'It was befuddling,' said one observer. 'It looked like their booth at San Diego last year,' said another."

I suspect that if it were a gathering of filmmakers and licensing agents, Marvel might've spent more than thirty bucks on the booth.