Start with the cold, hard facts. It takes us about two thousand hours to write a book. Authors are paid royalties based on a percentage of the wholesale cost of the books sold. The usual royalty percentage is 15% and the usual cost of a book is $40.00, which works out to about $6.00 per book, or $3.00 if you write as a team of two. (The actual number is lower, since the royalty percentage is less for foreign sales.) That means that we have to sell over 3,500 copies before we even to begin to reach a point where it would be better than putting our time in a job whose only requirement is the ability to ask "Do you want fries with that?" In the academic publishing business, it's rare indeed to sell over three thousand copies of a book in a year. The conclusion is obvious: Only a fool goes into textbook writing expecting to make a potload of money.

Another cold fact: Producing a book is a process only slightly more enjoyable than cholera. It's true, writing won't kill you, but it can sure make you wish for a speedy end. The process of initially coming up with 150,000 to 220,000 words isn't all that bad--you're allowed to repeat words and it's really a lot of fun trying to say things as clearly and entertainingly as you can. Once you've done that, though, the pain begins.
The completed manuscript goes out to reviewers in your field who read it and suggest changes. You make the changes and send it back. This process iterates one or more times. Once the content is rewritten to include the suggestions, the manuscript goes out to a copy editor who carefully checks that you've spelled everything correctly, punctuated with at least some notion of contemporary standards, and made every cross-reference point where it really should. The copy-edited manuscript then goes back to you for approval of all the changes. Once that's done, the book gets printed in what will be its final form and the publisher sends you galleys, which have to be checked yet again, to make sure no errors crept in when it was being typeset. At the end of this process, you've read your original words with neurotic care at least four times and are so sick of them you could cheerfully chuck the whole mess into the nearest fire.

So why do we do it? Well, there is a little money involved. Not a huge amount, but certainly better than nothing. In addition, there are the food and drinks that our publisher pays for. When we go to the big conferences our editor is usually there, along with her boss, and we find we are generally treated to more lavish entertainment than the rest of the conference attendees. We've been invited to push our newest efforts at sales meetings in San Francisco, Florida, and the Bahamas, and that's always nice, especially if you live where the snow doesn't reliably stop falling until late April.
Mainly, though, we do it for the thrill that comes from holding that first copy in your hands and gazing lovingly at how it looks with a real cover and interior produced by people with a much better sense of good graphic design than we ever will possess. There's a sense of satisfaction that comes from having produced something that says just what you want about the subject. Then there's the prestige--as an author your name is out there in the eye of the people whose opinions you value and they often treat you with a degree of respect that's far out of proportion to what you think you've really done.

Sure, it's a lot of work and hassle, but we wouldn't do it if there weren't some rewards. It's a close call, but we think the rewards justify the effort.