How Authors Can Benefit from Secondhand Book Sales

1. Introduction

There’s a persistent myth in publishing: that secondhand book sales are a dead end for authors. Once a book leaves the hands of its first buyer, the author’s connection to it—financially and professionally—is assumed to be severed. But that assumption overlooks the deeper, more dynamic role that resale plays in the life of a book and its creator.

Used books circulate in ways that new books often don’t. They pass through hands, cities, generations. They show up in dorm rooms, waiting rooms, and indie shop windows. And while they don’t generate royalties, they do generate something else: visibility, longevity, and cultural relevance. These are not small things. For authors, they’re the foundation of a career.

This blog post explores how secondhand book sales—often dismissed—can actually be leveraged as a strategic advantage. We’ll look at the traditional ways authors benefit from resale, the blind spots in publishing metrics, and the ethical questions raised in the New York Times Ethicist column, “Is It Wrong to Buy Used Books and Music?” by Kwame Anthony Appiah (https://www.nytimes.com/2025/05/14/magazine/used-books-music-ethics.html). Of course, this links back to how Author Advantage reimagines how resale can support both authors and bookstores in a more equitable ecosystem.

2. Traditional Mechanisms by Which Authors Benefit

While secondhand book sales historically don’t generate direct royalties, they do contribute to an author’s career in ways that are often overlooked. One of the most powerful mechanisms is discoverability. A used copy of a novel tucked into a corner shelf or passed between friends can introduce an author to a reader who might never have encountered their work otherwise. That moment of discovery—especially when it leads to a deeper connection—can translate into future purchases, newsletter sign-ups, event attendance, and word-of-mouth recommendations.

Another key benefit is long-term readership growth. Used books often outlive their initial print runs, circulating for years or even decades. This extended shelf life keeps an author’s work in the public eye, especially when newer titles are released. Readers who find a used copy of an earlier book may seek out the author’s latest work, creating a ripple effect that supports ongoing sales.

Importantly, resale also contributes to an author’s cultural footprint. When a book continues to be read, discussed, and shared—even outside the traditional sales channels—it reinforces the author’s relevance. This visibility can influence everything from media coverage to speaking invitations to inclusion on curated book lists.

In short, while the financial transaction may bypass the author, the relational and reputational value of resale is real—and often foundational.

3. The Backlist Blind Spot

In publishing, the term backlist refers to an author’s previously published titles—books that are no longer new releases but still available for sale. For many authors, the backlist is where the real career-building happens. These titles often generate steady income over time, especially when a new book draws attention to earlier work. Backlist performance is a key metric for publishers when deciding whether to reprint, promote, or invest in an author’s future projects.

But here’s the catch: used book sales are not included in backlist performance data.

When a reader buys a secondhand copy of a book, that transaction is invisible to the publisher. It doesn’t show up in sales reports, doesn’t trigger a royalty, and doesn’t contribute to the perceived value of the title. This creates a blind spot in the industry—one where real reader interest and engagement go unmeasured.

That missing data can have real consequences. A book that’s thriving in the resale market may be seen as stagnant or underperforming simply because its success isn’t captured by traditional metrics. Authors lose out on recognition, publishers miss opportunities to reissue or promote, and the broader literary ecosystem fails to account for the full life of a book.

In this way, secondhand sales don’t just bypass compensation—they bypass visibility. And for authors, visibility is often the difference between a book that fades and a book that endures.

4. Ethical Dimensions of Resale

The question of whether it’s ethically acceptable to buy used books and music has long hovered at the edges of literary and artistic discourse. In the recent New York Times Ethicist column, “Is It Wrong to Buy Used Books and Music?” (May 14, 2025), author Kwame Anthony Appiah explores this tension head-on. He acknowledges the reality: when a book is resold, the author earns nothing. Yet he challenges the idea that this transaction is inherently unethical.

Appiah argues that resale is part of a broader cultural ecosystem—one that makes art more accessible, keeps books in circulation, and allows readers to engage with work they might not otherwise afford. In this view, the resale market isn’t a betrayal of the author’s labor, but a continuation of it. The book lives on, even if the royalty stream doesn’t.

Still, the column doesn’t shy away from the discomfort. It recognizes that creators deserve compensation and that the current system fails to account for the value their work continues to generate. The ethical dilemma lies in balancing accessibility with fairness—ensuring that readers can afford books while authors can afford to keep writing them.

This dilemma is exactly why I created Author Advantage in the first place. As an avid reader of used books, I’m precisely the kind of person who should be supporting authors—but I struggled to find an avenue to do this without the cost of buying new books. Author Advantage was born from that tension: a way to honor the accessibility of resale while creating a new path for authors to benefit from the continued life of their work.

5. The Challenges of Used Book Sales for Authors

Despite the cultural and relational value of secondhand book sales, the challenges they pose for authors are real—and persistent. The most obvious is financial: when a book is resold, the author earns nothing. This lack of direct royalties means that even wildly popular titles in the resale market can generate zero income for the person who wrote them.

In the transaction between used buyer and author, there should be no disconnect. Do the writer’s words carry no value to the prospective reader just because the physical book has been sold before? Surely the answer to this must be a resounding “no.” In other creative industries, creators are paid for each instance of consumption. Musicians earn payments for every time a song is streamed—not just the first time an album is released. The reasons behind this are multifaceted, but a primary factor is the technology behind the medium. Streaming platforms track usage and compensate accordingly. Publishing, by contrast, has not yet evolved to reflect the ongoing value of a book beyond its first sale.

Historically, this exclusion stems from the way copyright and publishing rights have been structured. Once a book is sold, the transaction is considered complete. The resale is treated as a private exchange, not a commercial one—despite the fact that used bookstores operate as businesses and resale platforms generate revenue. Authors are left out of this loop entirely.

This disconnect between cultural value and financial reward is especially stark when a book gains traction in the secondhand market. A title might be passed around, recommended, and cherished—yet none of that activity is reflected in sales data or author compensation. It’s a system that rewards circulation but ignores creation.

And while some argue that resale is a form of promotion, that argument only holds if it leads to new sales or opportunities. Without mechanisms to track or respond to resale activity, authors are left guessing. Did that spike in used copies lead to new readers? Did it influence a publisher’s decision to reprint? Or did it simply bypass the author altogether?

These challenges aren’t just economic—they’re structural. They reflect a publishing industry that hasn’t yet adapted to the realities of how books live, move, and matter beyond their first sale.

6. A New Model: How Author Advantage Is Updating the Industry

The challenges of resale aren’t just theoretical—they’re personal. They’re what led to the creation of Author Advantage. For me, there was no clear path to contribute meaningfully to the creators behind the stories I cherished without drastically changing my consumption habits and leaving behind the world of used books.

Author Advantage was built to change that.

At its core, Author Advantage is a social enterprise designed to reimagine how resale can support authors. Instead of treating secondhand sales as the end of the line, we treat them as a new beginning—a chance to reconnect value with visibility, and compensation with circulation.

Here’s how it works: when a used book is sold through a participating bookstore or platform, Author Advantage tracks that transaction and channels a portion of the resale value back to the author. It’s not a royalty in the traditional sense—it’s a recognition of continued impact, and it’s disconnected entirely from copyright and other legal minefields. Authors are compensated not just for the initial sale, but for the enduring relevance of their work.

This model also opens up new possibilities for engagement. Authors can opt in to receive data about where and how their books are being resold, helping them understand their readership in real time. They can share this data with publishers to reinforce the value of their backlist. They can connect with bookstores, participate in events, and build relationships with readers who discover their work through resale.

In doing so, Author Advantage bridges the gap between accessibility and fairness. It affirms that a book’s second, third, or fourth read is just as valuable as its first—and that authors deserve to be part of that story.

7. Mutual Benefit: Authors and Used Bookstores

Used bookstores have long been champions of literary culture. They preserve stories, introduce readers to new voices, and keep books circulating well beyond their initial release. But until now, their role in supporting authors has been largely symbolic. Author Advantage offers a way to make that support tangible.

By partnering with Author Advantage, used bookstores can become active participants in a more equitable literary ecosystem. Every resale becomes an opportunity—not just for discovery, but for compensation. Bookstores can opt into the Author Advantage network, allowing a portion of each resale to be directed back to the author. It’s a simple shift with powerful implications: the bookstore remains a hub of accessibility, while also becoming a channel for author sustainability.

For bookstores, this partnership adds value without adding complexity. It aligns with their mission to connect readers with books, while expanding their impact to include the creators behind those books. And for authors, it transforms resale from a silent transaction into a meaningful exchange.

I’ve said it before and will say it again: used booksellers must find ways to compete with the mega-retailers. Used books are an undifferentiated commodity. If price is the sole motivator for purchase, then there is no hope for the dispersed retail model that we all cherish as readers. By incorporating social good, bookstores can offer something deeper—an experience rooted in values. Readers connect with books not just as objects, but as part of a larger story. This leads to customer preference, brand loyalty, and a mechanism to drive business without fighting for the lowest cost in an online search.