The Glamorous World of Publishing Part Two

Here's an example of just some of the glamorous publishing things I've actually been up to in the last few weeks: dealing with the fallout of storms off the coast of Scandinavia, causing books to be delivered late into the warehouse; coping with the beast of Bodmin (I think) causing another printers' binding machine to give up the ghost just as another book is due for publication; having teeth pulling contract negotiations with various agents over small print hypothetical never-actually-going-to-happen situations; placating authors who want to make changes to their books after they have already gone to print; attempting to get an internet bookseller to change the information displayed on their various pages; debating why calling someone a 'nightmare' is libellous, but 'high maintenance' is ok.
After all that I just haven't had the energy left for all the hating and knife sharpening and back stabbing and whatever else it is I'm apparently meant to be up to. Not to mention that my sparkly dress is at the dry cleaners ...

The Glamorous World of Publishing Part One

From The Times on Friday: 'the usually sedate, dignified, slow-moving world of books is in uproar, transfixed by one of the bitterest and most gripping feuds to have affected the literary world. Phones are ringing off the hook, rumours are flying about rampantly, long-held grievances are aired as knives are sunk deep, and usually anonymously, into the backs of old rivals. “On the surface we all get on brilliantly, but on a personal level we all f***ing loathe each other,” as the editorial director of one of the country’s largest publishing houses cheerfully confided yesterday. “I’ll tell you everything but it’s career death if I go on record.' Goodness, publishing sounds exciting. Or does this journalist want to be a fiction writer, perchance?

Hail to the Chief

A book such as 'The Ants Are My Friends' wouldn't be complete without an entry or two from George W Bush: indeed, we've got a whole section dedicated to his mangled charms. However, it would be churlish not to applaud George's put-downs to BBC political reporter Nick Robinson at the Bush-Brown press conference earlier in the week. Bush, who clearly finds Robinson as irritating as I do, greeted the BBC reporter with the ever so-friendly 'Are you still hanging around?' He went on to advise 'Next time you should cover up your bald head', and when Robinson responded by saying 'I didn't know you cared', Bush simply said, 'I don't'. Girls, girls.

Something New in Publishing Part Two

Is this another publishing first? I’m not sure, to be honest. Is it a record? Most definitely. Next month, we’re publishing a book by Martin Toseland called ‘The Ants are My Friends’, a wonderful collection of linguistic gaffes, including malapropisms, eggcorns and mondegreens, or misheard song lyrics (the title comes from Bob Dylan’s ‘Blowing In The Wind’. Think about it). Martin has put together an iMix of some of the misheard songs in question, including such classics as Madonna’s ‘La Isla Bonita’ ('Last Night I Dreamt of Some Bagels) and Johnny Nash's 'I Can See Clearly Now’ (or rather, ‘I Can See Cleveland Now Lorraine has gone’). So you can buy the book, download the songs from iTunes, and enjoy a true multimedia misheard experience. I wonder if it will catch on with other authors – Martin Amis recommending ‘Money’ by Pink Floyd? JK Rowling choosing the Steve Miller Band’s 'Abracadabra'? Better suggestions please!

Something New in Publishing Part One

Well, it's probably not: not many things in publishing are, but it feels new for now at least. I've bought a book to be published next August called The Bromley Boys by Dave Roberts. It's the story of a football fan recounting the non-league club's worst ever season, back in 1969 when he was 14. Not the most immediate subject for a book, I'll grant you, but in a slightly perverse way, I think it's great. The book came in unsolicited, after the author had seen an interview I did with a writing magazine, so it just goes to show: these things can happen. The unsolicited signing isn't the new thing, btw, rare though that that may seem. No, Dave and I have hit upon the idea of blogging the progress of the book from start to finish. So he'll write as he writes, I'll write as I edit, and as the book gets further down the line, there'll be contributions from copy-editors, designers, publicists and so forth -- the whole book chain in fact -- to give, for the first time, the whole story of a book being put together, from all sides, as it happens. Follow the progress here.

The Nicest Man in Publishing?

Not me. Actually, given the amount of hassling I've been doing this week, certainly not me. I am, instead, referring to the rather wonderful Alexander McCall Smith. I'm publishing a book in September called 'Whatever Happened to Tanganyika?', a charming and quirky book about old place names by first time author Harry Campbell. Harry and I discussed who we might send the book to for an advance quote. I tried Michael Palin -- his people politely declined, though given they replied about an entirely different book, I'm guessing he gets quite a few requests. Harry wrote to Alexander McCall Smith... who wrote straight back and asked to see a copy. He read it, loved it, offered to write a foreword, during which he very generously said, "In this marvellous and intriguing book, Harry Campbell has achieved something that most scholars would give anything to achieve. He has created a whole new discipline - one which we may perhaps call nostalgic geography". He even invited Harry to tea. What a top, top man.

Harry Potter for Grown Ups

Even a jaded old publisher like me can still occasionally get excited about a book being published. At lunchtime I hotfooted it to Books Etc in Hammersmith to snaffle the last copy of The Blair Years in the shop. By the time I got there, there was already a large hole where the book should have been sitting on the shelf -- as luck would have it, though, there was a display copy still sitting in the window.
With my publishing hat on, I think Alistair Campbell has played a blinder in terms of the publicity for the book. Too often with big books, by the time you've read the serialisation in the newspaper, you feel as though you don't need to buy the book. By not selling the rights, Campbell has kept the buzz going to publication day, and also given the impression that he's not in it for the money.
Is that spin? Who knows? I will say this, though, about a supposed master of presentation: what a dull jacket.