The ocean contains a complex ecosystem that starts with the small but mighty plankton at the skin of the sea. Krill eat the plankton, then small fish eat the krill. Larger fish, like tuna, eat the smaller fish, then themselves are swallowed up by sharks. The health of the plankton has everything to do with the shark keeping on swimming, even if the shark never tastes the plankton itself.

Though it may seem odd, Kensington Publishing’s communications director, Vida Engstrand, finds the metaphor is an apt one for describing the book business’s own ecosystem. She likens public libraries to the plankton, and major publishing houses with star authors on their rosters to the shark.

This spring, the newly formed Department of Government Efficiency made wide-ranging cuts to federal institutions, resulting in a funding freeze at the Institute of Museum and Library Services, the agency responsible for distributing federal funding to public libraries and museums. The move left libraries forced to draft budgets for fiscal year 2026 without being able to rely on much of the bedrock grant funding that sustains them. (Unlike plankton, libraries cannot photosynthesize their own resources.) And one of the only line items, beyond staffing, that could reasonably be altered is collections. In other words: the books budget.

If libraries are forced to cut acquisitions due to lack of funding, it will inevitably affect the bottom line at publishing houses big and small. The question is, by how much?

Dzanc Books, a nonprofit literary press located in Ann Arbor, Mich., employs a full-time staff of two alongside a handful of volunteers and interns and puts out about 10–15 new books per year. Most titles sell between 500 and 600 copies, but those that receive critical acclaim can see sales climb to between 3,000 and 5,000. The press, which will celebrate its 20th anniversary next year, pushes about 80,000 units annually, with income between $100,000 and $140,000. Libraries account for 8%–12% of Dzanc’s sales.

Michelle Dotter, editor-in-chief of Dzanc, says public libraries are “immensely important” to the press’s sales matrix, to the point where the team alters print runs of some books to make them more appealing for libraries—namely through hardcover printing, even though it is more expensive. They do so, she explains, because libraries are a dedicated sales channel that the team can count on. The benefits are not just book sales: librarians’ word-of-mouth commitment to reading programs, which often feature more off-the-beaten path authors, bring valuable publicity to Dzanc titles that it could not otherwise afford.

“Librarians are doing those things on their own time,” Dotter says. “If you cut funding to public services and lose staff, everyone’s job gets way more overwhelming. It crowds out the space to take on passion projects.”

Having even a few libraries on its side can make a huge difference at a press as small as Dzanc. Dotter notes that the press gets more exposure through public libraries than it does from such mainstream bookstores as Barnes & Noble, which only stocks one or two Dzanc titles per year. Many public libraries, on the other hand, will pick up about half of Dzanc’s lists. That makes IMLS cuts top of mind for Dotter, who is bracing for a reduction in library sales this year up to a devastating 50%.

Johnny Temple, the publisher and editor-in-chief of Akashic Books, employs a staff of six, including a few part-time workers. The press opened its doors in the 1990s and currently publishes about 25 books a year, with a focus on countercultural themes. Akashic brings in about $2 million in sales annually. And while libraries are certainly an important market for the publisher, Temple isn’t fully convinced that the current IMLS cuts are any different from the myriad mini-crises that he says perpetually plague publishers,
especially the smaller ones.

Akashic, he explains, has devised enough funding streams to weather a hit to one of its markets without changing the day-to-day operations. “Every time there is some major development in the world, I’ll get a call from a magazine asking, ‘How is this going to affect Akashic?’ ” he says. “We’re constantly hustling. It’s always been really hard.”

Meanwhile, Kensington, which released its first book 50 years ago, is still family owned, employing about 80 people and producing about 300 books per year. Some of those titles sell around 5,000 units; others sell 200,000. And though library sales don’t keep the lights on at the press, Engstrand says libraries remain a vital channel for the business—and one that the team is constantly working to grow. “An outsized amount of time each day is spent communicating with libraries,”
she explains.

Some of those communications are to set up events, get blurbs for books, forge larger partnerships, or coordinate programming. But any way you turn it, libraries are the key to unlock audiences clamoring for very specific books that the mainstream culture—and mainstream booksellers—may not take much interest in. Or, as Engstrand puts it, “There’s just so much promoting that starts there.”

Library sales influence publication decisions at Kensington for all types of books, from cozy mysteries to urban fiction. The publisher also produces library-exclusive hardcover editions of its most popular titles, printing 3,000–4,000 copies for sale specifically to libraries. “The reason we do them in print,” Engstrand says, “is that they have a life in the libraries.”

That leads one to ask, If libraries don’t buy these books because they can’t afford them, will readers buy them themselves?

Engstrand doesn’t think that is likely. Libraries are the most essential in low-income and rural communities, where they are often the only place for the public to access books—and if not, they’re still often the first. “Not being able to put books into libraries will hurt discoverability for newer authors and marginalized authors,” she says. “It’s already such a fight for people’s attention.” Should libraries be forced to cut their collection budgets, “books will lose that ground completely.”

That’s not even taking into account how instrumental libraries are for children, who often discover a love of reading in the stacks that carries on into adulthood. With access to libraries and their materials limited by reduced hours or fewer acquisitions, the book business may be forced to rethink the discoverability funnel wholesale in the years to come.

Engstrand doesn’t anticipate seeing a sales cliff after the first year of IMLS cuts. But as time goes on, she worries about declining sales throughout the sector because the public won’t have a chance to discover new authors in the same way.

These cuts, Engstrand adds, don’t exist in a bubble. Other political decisions are also impacting the publishing industry. Authors from abroad are increasingly hesitant to come to the U.S. to tour due to immigration crackdowns, and authors whose books center DEI-related themes or the immigrant experience may see fewer venues willing to take on the risk of hosting events with them.

“Without libraries, the ecosystem falls apart,” Engstrand says. “The center won’t hold. All of what’s going on is censorship. You do censorship with fascist police, or with the pocketbook. And authors and writers are the first to get really hurt.”