Today was a big day. After two and a half years at a very lovely London publisher, I handed in my notice.
It's an odd thing, quitting; many in the office acted as if they'd all written down their own predictable reactions, pitched them into a hat and passed it around the office. One, usually peculiarly perceptive to changes of mood in the office was shocked. Another, usually too quietly overwhelmed by doing three jobs at once to muster much enthusiasm burst into the biggest honest display of sadness, elation and genuine interest I've seen in an English workplace (sorry). Finally, the one who said 'YOU B*TCH!' when I left my last job in the company gave really helpful advice on the website demo. The big wigs were supportive, but likely thought my plans a small enterprise.
The enterprise, you ask? Yes, you did.
I'm going back to Dublin, back to college and back to languages. Then, I'll be setting up an agency of freelancers: editorial for English-language publishers and translators for foreign-language publishers/agents. I'll be writing about that elsewhere and this here blog will remain fairly personal and fairly anonymous.
Meanwhile, will be finding good respectable freelance staff and lining up some, urm, work.
Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Getting work experience in publishing
or
'It's just not fair'
The time has come for a small rant about work experience. I am not choosing to rant now because of a particular candidate, but rather because I have a couple of years’ experience either being the intern or hiring them, and now seems like as good a time as any.
Work experience in publishing can be great. You can learn an enormous amount, make contacts and conceivably even get a job out of it. Regardless, you should only need to do this a few times before someone will look at all those lovely lines on your CV and give you a real job.
Until then, try to enjoy it. Remember, you're getting an insider's view of a very competitive industry, and that's quite something. It is, as they say, what you make it, so make the best of it. That's what this post is about.
I preface my rant with the following:
It is grossly unfair that publishing is underpaid. It is also unfair that the only way that you are likely to get a full-time job in publishing is to spend months working for free or damn near it. It is even more unfair that the whole structure of many publishers depends on a constant stream of free labour to get through the week.
Worse still, this is a system that favours mother-tongue English-speaking university students or graduates with parents living within the London commuter belt who can afford to not earn money for several months.
If you do not fall into this group, as I do not, you are likely to have a very hard time of it until you land your first paid job.
Unless you intend to single-handedly buck the system, I’d recommend getting over it.
So, assuming that you have resigned yourself to getting a work experience placement, bear with me while I make some recommendations, most of which apply to getting your first job, too. I do actually know what I’m talking about.
For your application:
- send it to the correct address
- spell the addressee’s name correctly, and, if unsure of the addressee’s gender, address your application with their full name, i.e., ‘Dear Sam Smith,’.
- proof-read your entire application, and get a literate friend to do the same for you
- send in your application as soon as you can; do not wait for the deadline.
- do not send in your application late.
- follow instructions: send in what you’re told to send in, no more, no less. If you have further materials that you would like to include beyond what is required, allude to them in your cover letter only, i.e., ‘writing samples available upon request’ or ‘my full design portfolio can be viewed at www….’ or ‘my books blog, www.booksblog.com...’.
- a one-page cover letter should be sufficient – keep it punchy and relevant.
- a two-page CV should do it, three if you’ve done amazing things in your 25-ish years. I would advise that you include any incidental work during college to prove that you did indeed work through college, even if it was just a bar job. Others may disagree.
On receiving the offer:
- ask about any remuneration or reimbursements, the timing of payment, and what receipts, banking details, etc. you may have to provide. If what is offered is impossible (and I do mean impossible) for you to accept, you can decline the offer – no one should hold it against you.
- ask about dates and times, hours of work, etc.
- ask about the dress code in the office and anything that you should bring with you. Believe what they tell you, and do what they suggest.
- try to familiarise yourself with their list. If there’s time, ask that someone send you a catalogue or let you know where to find it online. If they’ve had a big hit, try to read it before you go.
For your first day:
- wear something in line with the dress code that is clean, ironed and conservative. Brush your hair. Women, do not overdo the makeup or the hair, and do not – I cannot stress this enough – do not wear anything too revealing. Need clarification? This means no cleavage, no short skirts, nothing too clingy and no shirts that expose your midriff, not even a little. Men, shave.
- wear comfortable shoes.
- wear layers. Offices can be boiling or freezing, and are rarely temperate.
- bring a packed lunch and money to eat out, and be prepared to forget about plan A if someone asks you out to lunch. Ideally, someone will, but sometimes people are too busy to take a lunch themselves, let alone give you the head space of a proper lunch out.
- aim to arrive five minutes early. If you’re earlier than that, kill time elsewhere – much like arriving early for a dinner party, it’s just stressful for your new employers to have to drop what they’re doing because you showed up half an hour before they asked you to.
- SMILE. Smile, and continue to smile for the rest of your time at the company.
- Introduce yourself. Ideally, someone will introduce you to the relevant people in the company, but if not, or if you come across someone whom you haven’t met, introduce yourself.
For the duration of your time at the company:
Smile. The best way to ensure that you are giving the right impression, namely, that you’re happy to be there and to be doing the work that you’re doing, is to smile.
Say ‘yes’. When someone asks you to do something, smile and say ‘yes’. If you have been giving multiple tasks simultaneously, smile and say ‘yes’ to whatever work you have been given to do, and ask which task should take priority. It is not your job on work experience to know how to prioritise your work, because your work is not your own.
Do not use your mobile or iPod. Don’t use your iPod ever, unless someone specifically says ‘while you are doing this endless heap of filing, feel free to listen to your iPod’. Even if you hear this, I wouldn’t recommend it. Someone who doesn’t know that this has been arranged will see you and assume that you are a disaffected teenage git.
There is one exception to the no-personal-technology rule: if you warn the person who hired you that you are expecting a call (from an employment agent or a HR department), and they say it’s ok, which they should, that’s fine. Turn off the sound, or put it on an inoffensive ring-tone.
Do not complain. Ever. If you are at the company for a longer period of time (one month or more) you may be able to speak to someone about the kind of tasks you’d be particularly enthusiastic to do, but you are not in a position to request a certain kind of work. You can but make it known that you’d be Very Interested to Read Submissions, or that you would Really Love to Work on a Publicity Campaign.
Volunteer. Another facet of saying ‘yes’ to everything, volunteering is a proactive way of saying ‘yes’. As you do not under any circumstances want to be seen sitting around with nothing to do, you're going to have to occasionally ask for work, or indeed, leap right in when you see something going on. Remember that if by volunteering you do someone a favour, they are more likely to pay attention when you express your Very Passionate Interest in X. If there is a launch coming up, ask if they need help selling books or passing canapés. If there’s a big mailing to do, an author coming in to sign books, or a sales conference on, tell the person organising it that if they need an extra pair of hands on deck, that you are happy to help. Be prepared for staff to tell you that you cannot help, because the task at hand is not one they can or will delegate. This is no comment on you. Stuck for something to do? Have you noticed that everyone seems to hate going to the postroom / making the tea / loading the printer / doing ring-rounds to lit eds / chasing couriers? Offer to do it.
Take an interest / ask questions. Don’t understand why you’re doing something or how your task fits in to the bigger picture? Ask. Try not to interrupt, sure, but when there’s a quiet moment, and there will be, ask. Concerned you’re bothering someone with your questions? Share the love and ask someone else. Doing so will help you to get to know more of the staff, and will get you noticed and remembered.
Ask for a reference. On your last day, ask if the company usually provides references, and if you might receive one. Alternately, if you have formed a particular working relationship with a certain staff member, ask if they would mind your listing them as a referee. If they agree, it is particularly important to ask what contact information you have permission to list.
Seem a bit prescriptive? You bet. Thing is, not only is all of this grossly unfair, it's also hugely competitive. You think that you're too good for photocopying and filing now that you have your Oxbridge first? That very well may be, but know that there are hundreds of others just as great as you on paper, and they don't think they're too good for work experience. Should you be able to walk straight into an editorial assistant / publicity assistant job straight out of college? Yes, you should. But realistically, that's very unlikely to happen.
Sorry, folks.
Work experience in publishing can be great. You can learn an enormous amount, make contacts and conceivably even get a job out of it. Regardless, you should only need to do this a few times before someone will look at all those lovely lines on your CV and give you a real job.
Until then, try to enjoy it. Remember, you're getting an insider's view of a very competitive industry, and that's quite something. It is, as they say, what you make it, so make the best of it. That's what this post is about.
I preface my rant with the following:
It is grossly unfair that publishing is underpaid. It is also unfair that the only way that you are likely to get a full-time job in publishing is to spend months working for free or damn near it. It is even more unfair that the whole structure of many publishers depends on a constant stream of free labour to get through the week.
Worse still, this is a system that favours mother-tongue English-speaking university students or graduates with parents living within the London commuter belt who can afford to not earn money for several months.
If you do not fall into this group, as I do not, you are likely to have a very hard time of it until you land your first paid job.
Unless you intend to single-handedly buck the system, I’d recommend getting over it.
So, assuming that you have resigned yourself to getting a work experience placement, bear with me while I make some recommendations, most of which apply to getting your first job, too. I do actually know what I’m talking about.
For your application:
- send it to the correct address
- spell the addressee’s name correctly, and, if unsure of the addressee’s gender, address your application with their full name, i.e., ‘Dear Sam Smith,’.
- proof-read your entire application, and get a literate friend to do the same for you
- send in your application as soon as you can; do not wait for the deadline.
- do not send in your application late.
- follow instructions: send in what you’re told to send in, no more, no less. If you have further materials that you would like to include beyond what is required, allude to them in your cover letter only, i.e., ‘writing samples available upon request’ or ‘my full design portfolio can be viewed at www….’ or ‘my books blog, www.booksblog.com...’.
- a one-page cover letter should be sufficient – keep it punchy and relevant.
- a two-page CV should do it, three if you’ve done amazing things in your 25-ish years. I would advise that you include any incidental work during college to prove that you did indeed work through college, even if it was just a bar job. Others may disagree.
On receiving the offer:
- ask about any remuneration or reimbursements, the timing of payment, and what receipts, banking details, etc. you may have to provide. If what is offered is impossible (and I do mean impossible) for you to accept, you can decline the offer – no one should hold it against you.
- ask about dates and times, hours of work, etc.
- ask about the dress code in the office and anything that you should bring with you. Believe what they tell you, and do what they suggest.
- try to familiarise yourself with their list. If there’s time, ask that someone send you a catalogue or let you know where to find it online. If they’ve had a big hit, try to read it before you go.
For your first day:
- wear something in line with the dress code that is clean, ironed and conservative. Brush your hair. Women, do not overdo the makeup or the hair, and do not – I cannot stress this enough – do not wear anything too revealing. Need clarification? This means no cleavage, no short skirts, nothing too clingy and no shirts that expose your midriff, not even a little. Men, shave.
- wear comfortable shoes.
- wear layers. Offices can be boiling or freezing, and are rarely temperate.
- bring a packed lunch and money to eat out, and be prepared to forget about plan A if someone asks you out to lunch. Ideally, someone will, but sometimes people are too busy to take a lunch themselves, let alone give you the head space of a proper lunch out.
- aim to arrive five minutes early. If you’re earlier than that, kill time elsewhere – much like arriving early for a dinner party, it’s just stressful for your new employers to have to drop what they’re doing because you showed up half an hour before they asked you to.
- SMILE. Smile, and continue to smile for the rest of your time at the company.
- Introduce yourself. Ideally, someone will introduce you to the relevant people in the company, but if not, or if you come across someone whom you haven’t met, introduce yourself.
For the duration of your time at the company:
Smile. The best way to ensure that you are giving the right impression, namely, that you’re happy to be there and to be doing the work that you’re doing, is to smile.
Say ‘yes’. When someone asks you to do something, smile and say ‘yes’. If you have been giving multiple tasks simultaneously, smile and say ‘yes’ to whatever work you have been given to do, and ask which task should take priority. It is not your job on work experience to know how to prioritise your work, because your work is not your own.
Do not use your mobile or iPod. Don’t use your iPod ever, unless someone specifically says ‘while you are doing this endless heap of filing, feel free to listen to your iPod’. Even if you hear this, I wouldn’t recommend it. Someone who doesn’t know that this has been arranged will see you and assume that you are a disaffected teenage git.
There is one exception to the no-personal-technology rule: if you warn the person who hired you that you are expecting a call (from an employment agent or a HR department), and they say it’s ok, which they should, that’s fine. Turn off the sound, or put it on an inoffensive ring-tone.
Do not complain. Ever. If you are at the company for a longer period of time (one month or more) you may be able to speak to someone about the kind of tasks you’d be particularly enthusiastic to do, but you are not in a position to request a certain kind of work. You can but make it known that you’d be Very Interested to Read Submissions, or that you would Really Love to Work on a Publicity Campaign.
Volunteer. Another facet of saying ‘yes’ to everything, volunteering is a proactive way of saying ‘yes’. As you do not under any circumstances want to be seen sitting around with nothing to do, you're going to have to occasionally ask for work, or indeed, leap right in when you see something going on. Remember that if by volunteering you do someone a favour, they are more likely to pay attention when you express your Very Passionate Interest in X. If there is a launch coming up, ask if they need help selling books or passing canapés. If there’s a big mailing to do, an author coming in to sign books, or a sales conference on, tell the person organising it that if they need an extra pair of hands on deck, that you are happy to help. Be prepared for staff to tell you that you cannot help, because the task at hand is not one they can or will delegate. This is no comment on you. Stuck for something to do? Have you noticed that everyone seems to hate going to the postroom / making the tea / loading the printer / doing ring-rounds to lit eds / chasing couriers? Offer to do it.
Take an interest / ask questions. Don’t understand why you’re doing something or how your task fits in to the bigger picture? Ask. Try not to interrupt, sure, but when there’s a quiet moment, and there will be, ask. Concerned you’re bothering someone with your questions? Share the love and ask someone else. Doing so will help you to get to know more of the staff, and will get you noticed and remembered.
Ask for a reference. On your last day, ask if the company usually provides references, and if you might receive one. Alternately, if you have formed a particular working relationship with a certain staff member, ask if they would mind your listing them as a referee. If they agree, it is particularly important to ask what contact information you have permission to list.
Seem a bit prescriptive? You bet. Thing is, not only is all of this grossly unfair, it's also hugely competitive. You think that you're too good for photocopying and filing now that you have your Oxbridge first? That very well may be, but know that there are hundreds of others just as great as you on paper, and they don't think they're too good for work experience. Should you be able to walk straight into an editorial assistant / publicity assistant job straight out of college? Yes, you should. But realistically, that's very unlikely to happen.
Sorry, folks.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Irish Publishers, learning to compete?
As part of an ongoing debate about Irish publishers' birthright to the Irish market, hackles were raised a while back by CLÉ president, Tony Farmar, with this article in the Irish Times. Should you not have a log-in for the IT, I'll quote the salient points in italics.
-The average European country publishes four times as many titles per head as we do. In terms of titles per million of population, Ireland is actually the weakest performer in the whole expanded EU.
- Unprotected either by language or distance from Britain, fewer than one in five literary and general books sold here are Irish-published. As far as books are concerned, Ireland is still part of the British Empire.
-There are four historical and structural reasons for this situation:
the powerful British publishing industry
Irish authors find British publishers difficult to resist
the radical shift of the terms of trade in favour of retailers
the Irish are reluctant book readers
Reading between the lines, from this I understand that Irish publishers don't know how to compete. Here, the President of CLÉ, compliments the Brits on their "honed marketing skills and deep pockets". Having seen a couple of truly unremarkable marketing and publicity campaigns by small Irish houses, and heard the moans of the smaller-circulation Irish press on their difficulties securing review copies, I wonder why CLÉ is not lambasting some of its own members for failing to make the most of what resources they have, or indeed, as an educating body, why they themselves don't endeavour to teach small presses how to hone their own marketing skills with an aim to, you know, making money, which they could then invest in future titles.
As for the Irish not buying books, 10% of books sold on the two islands are sold in the Republic of Ireland. Try that one on for size, population-wise. Ever see the clever Irish-themed tables at (UK) bookshop chains like Waterstone's and Hodgy Figg? UK booksellers, and increasingly Irish ones in city-centre Dublin like Eason's, Hughes & Hughes, Books Upstairs and the like, have come to realise that summer sales skyrocket thanks to... you guessed it, the Yanks buying books on holiday.
And every so often, we get a window into a displeasingly familiar way of thinking, with left-fielders like, "There is, of course, no knowing what unconscious Anglicisations are necessary to make Irish writings attractive to English tastes". Impossible to know where to begin with that one, so I'll leave it be.
In response to his own question, 'So what can be done?' Farmar comments,
The ideal structure of a viable publishing house is one that synergises the skills, interests and risks of different types of publishing. The hectic life of a Christmas best-seller sustains the long-term risk of "high art" literary publishing. Irish publishers are keen to develop more literary publishing, but this has to be done in the context of a healthily balanced set of activities.
Although the stories we tell ourselves in high literature are important, they are by no means the only way in which people's understandings and social capital are fostered. Not everyone has the mental stamina for John Banville or Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill. Less refined, more mediated books spread culture in its widest sense to a bigger audience. Books on such topics as local history, political issues such as "Boston versus Berlin", having a baby here, Celtic prayer, GAA, folk music, and our experience of cancer, are the "long thoughts" of a nation, for which locally published books are the uniquely appropriate medium.
Indeed. As someone who routinely scans Irish publishers' webpages for jobs, I can tell you that local history, health, the GAA and local and political histories are the mainstay of more than half of CLÉ's members, so that appears to be nothing more than back-patting - absurd, to my thinking, because this is Real World Business 101. I wish that I could comment on the sales of such titles, but I do know that they have absolutely no appeal for foreign rights sales. I would love to talk to someone in the know about rights sales in Ireland, as I know that they bring in a decent amount of income for publishers everywhere else in the world. I beleive that the expression is 'money for old rope', but maybe our situation is unique.
The promotion of a vigorous service by local publishers to local writers would seem to be an obvious responsibility of the Arts Council. However, the Arts Council's remit is to "literature", and it is unlikely that any possible widening of that term could include publications on looking after an elderly parent or proportional representation, however culturally useful they may be. We therefore need - as has been evolved in Canada, for instance - an approach to supporting publishing because of its wider contribution. Recently, Michael Ondaatje, the Sri Lankan-Canadian novelist and poet ... has acknowledged the "dedicated nurturing" that Canadian publishers, supported by their Book Publishing Industry Development Program against a similarly "over-mighty neighbour", were able to give him and authors such as Margaret Atwood, Yann Martel, Carol Shields and Rohinton Mistry.
This is simply nonsensical. He says that he wants a widening of the terms of 'literature' as decreed by the Arts Council, and that we should look to the Canadians for an example. But what about that list does not say 'literature' to you? OK, Yann Martel is YA, but literary YA, and Carol Sheilds might be forced into 'women's fiction', but commercial they ain't. Literature IS art, that's why the Arts Council happily supports it. Commercial writing, as he outlines above, is the kind that makes publishing houses money and affords them the luxury of publishing literature. Looks like the Canadians have this one figured out just fine - why don't we?
He then goes on to compose a laundry-list of demands for the Arts Council, suggesting among other more sensible ideas,
privileging Irish-published books in public libraries and other institutions. The EU rightly sees books as the backbone of national cultural identity, and is prepared to allow otherwise iron rules, for instance in competition law, to be waived in their favour. In terms of literature, but particularly funding new literary talent and initiatives, I couldn't agree more, but folks, publishing is a BUSINESS. The people who run publishing houses must heed Farmar's advice and learn to balance what sells with what's art, and publish accordingly.
And as ever-on-the-ball Eoin Purcell points out, it's only going to get worse in terms of the British Invasion, but the subject was closed for the moment as far as the Irish Times were concerned - my letter to the editor, below, wasn't published.
"As a recent (and hopefully short-term) Irish expat working in the British publishing industry, I share Tony Farmar's frustration with the state of Irish publishing in his article of June 20, 'Is Irish publishing on the edge?'.
I would, however, like to point out the exodus of home-grown authors to Britain is not the only drain of Irish publishing talent. In addition to the 'obvious advantages to being published in England', it is short wonder that Irish authors are so sought after by well-established UK presses when the ranks of these same institutions are increasingly filled with young, talented Irish staff.
When in 2005, armed with an honours degree and considerable relevant experience, I found myself unable to find paid employment of any kind within Irish publishing, I relocated reluctantly to London for a graduate trainee scheme. There I joined the Society of Young Publishers, where I was surprised to be greeted by their large Irish membership as part of an ever-growing circle.
Apparently, I was not alone, and most had left when confronted by the financially strapped, closed world of Irish publishing.
I am proud and indeed relieved to have since secured a full-time editorial position in one of those prestigious publishing companies to which Mr. Farmar refers. I enjoy my work and benefit from working on a challenging and diverse fiction list in a highly respected publishing house, but I look forward tothe day when I can return to apply my skills to the works of Irish authors. I hope that publishing houses in Ireland heed Farmar's advice, but that they also attack the task of developing their lists to balance literature, commercial fiction and domestic non-fiction with titles of international interest, which might help to generate profit through improved sales of foreign rights. Furthermore, the industry must address its continuing failure to publicise, market and distribute their books effectively abroad.
Then, rather than bemoaning the success of their British counterparts, Irish publishing might welcome home experienced Irish staff and create suitable publishing houses for our great Irish literary talent."
-The average European country publishes four times as many titles per head as we do. In terms of titles per million of population, Ireland is actually the weakest performer in the whole expanded EU.
- Unprotected either by language or distance from Britain, fewer than one in five literary and general books sold here are Irish-published. As far as books are concerned, Ireland is still part of the British Empire.
-There are four historical and structural reasons for this situation:
the powerful British publishing industry
Irish authors find British publishers difficult to resist
the radical shift of the terms of trade in favour of retailers
the Irish are reluctant book readers
Reading between the lines, from this I understand that Irish publishers don't know how to compete. Here, the President of CLÉ, compliments the Brits on their "honed marketing skills and deep pockets". Having seen a couple of truly unremarkable marketing and publicity campaigns by small Irish houses, and heard the moans of the smaller-circulation Irish press on their difficulties securing review copies, I wonder why CLÉ is not lambasting some of its own members for failing to make the most of what resources they have, or indeed, as an educating body, why they themselves don't endeavour to teach small presses how to hone their own marketing skills with an aim to, you know, making money, which they could then invest in future titles.
As for the Irish not buying books, 10% of books sold on the two islands are sold in the Republic of Ireland. Try that one on for size, population-wise. Ever see the clever Irish-themed tables at (UK) bookshop chains like Waterstone's and Hodgy Figg? UK booksellers, and increasingly Irish ones in city-centre Dublin like Eason's, Hughes & Hughes, Books Upstairs and the like, have come to realise that summer sales skyrocket thanks to... you guessed it, the Yanks buying books on holiday.
And every so often, we get a window into a displeasingly familiar way of thinking, with left-fielders like, "There is, of course, no knowing what unconscious Anglicisations are necessary to make Irish writings attractive to English tastes". Impossible to know where to begin with that one, so I'll leave it be.
In response to his own question, 'So what can be done?' Farmar comments,
The ideal structure of a viable publishing house is one that synergises the skills, interests and risks of different types of publishing. The hectic life of a Christmas best-seller sustains the long-term risk of "high art" literary publishing. Irish publishers are keen to develop more literary publishing, but this has to be done in the context of a healthily balanced set of activities.
Although the stories we tell ourselves in high literature are important, they are by no means the only way in which people's understandings and social capital are fostered. Not everyone has the mental stamina for John Banville or Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill. Less refined, more mediated books spread culture in its widest sense to a bigger audience. Books on such topics as local history, political issues such as "Boston versus Berlin", having a baby here, Celtic prayer, GAA, folk music, and our experience of cancer, are the "long thoughts" of a nation, for which locally published books are the uniquely appropriate medium.
Indeed. As someone who routinely scans Irish publishers' webpages for jobs, I can tell you that local history, health, the GAA and local and political histories are the mainstay of more than half of CLÉ's members, so that appears to be nothing more than back-patting - absurd, to my thinking, because this is Real World Business 101. I wish that I could comment on the sales of such titles, but I do know that they have absolutely no appeal for foreign rights sales. I would love to talk to someone in the know about rights sales in Ireland, as I know that they bring in a decent amount of income for publishers everywhere else in the world. I beleive that the expression is 'money for old rope', but maybe our situation is unique.
The promotion of a vigorous service by local publishers to local writers would seem to be an obvious responsibility of the Arts Council. However, the Arts Council's remit is to "literature", and it is unlikely that any possible widening of that term could include publications on looking after an elderly parent or proportional representation, however culturally useful they may be. We therefore need - as has been evolved in Canada, for instance - an approach to supporting publishing because of its wider contribution. Recently, Michael Ondaatje, the Sri Lankan-Canadian novelist and poet ... has acknowledged the "dedicated nurturing" that Canadian publishers, supported by their Book Publishing Industry Development Program against a similarly "over-mighty neighbour", were able to give him and authors such as Margaret Atwood, Yann Martel, Carol Shields and Rohinton Mistry.
This is simply nonsensical. He says that he wants a widening of the terms of 'literature' as decreed by the Arts Council, and that we should look to the Canadians for an example. But what about that list does not say 'literature' to you? OK, Yann Martel is YA, but literary YA, and Carol Sheilds might be forced into 'women's fiction', but commercial they ain't. Literature IS art, that's why the Arts Council happily supports it. Commercial writing, as he outlines above, is the kind that makes publishing houses money and affords them the luxury of publishing literature. Looks like the Canadians have this one figured out just fine - why don't we?
He then goes on to compose a laundry-list of demands for the Arts Council, suggesting among other more sensible ideas,
privileging Irish-published books in public libraries and other institutions. The EU rightly sees books as the backbone of national cultural identity, and is prepared to allow otherwise iron rules, for instance in competition law, to be waived in their favour. In terms of literature, but particularly funding new literary talent and initiatives, I couldn't agree more, but folks, publishing is a BUSINESS. The people who run publishing houses must heed Farmar's advice and learn to balance what sells with what's art, and publish accordingly.
And as ever-on-the-ball Eoin Purcell points out, it's only going to get worse in terms of the British Invasion, but the subject was closed for the moment as far as the Irish Times were concerned - my letter to the editor, below, wasn't published.
"As a recent (and hopefully short-term) Irish expat working in the British publishing industry, I share Tony Farmar's frustration with the state of Irish publishing in his article of June 20, 'Is Irish publishing on the edge?'.
I would, however, like to point out the exodus of home-grown authors to Britain is not the only drain of Irish publishing talent. In addition to the 'obvious advantages to being published in England', it is short wonder that Irish authors are so sought after by well-established UK presses when the ranks of these same institutions are increasingly filled with young, talented Irish staff.
When in 2005, armed with an honours degree and considerable relevant experience, I found myself unable to find paid employment of any kind within Irish publishing, I relocated reluctantly to London for a graduate trainee scheme. There I joined the Society of Young Publishers, where I was surprised to be greeted by their large Irish membership as part of an ever-growing circle.
Apparently, I was not alone, and most had left when confronted by the financially strapped, closed world of Irish publishing.
I am proud and indeed relieved to have since secured a full-time editorial position in one of those prestigious publishing companies to which Mr. Farmar refers. I enjoy my work and benefit from working on a challenging and diverse fiction list in a highly respected publishing house, but I look forward tothe day when I can return to apply my skills to the works of Irish authors. I hope that publishing houses in Ireland heed Farmar's advice, but that they also attack the task of developing their lists to balance literature, commercial fiction and domestic non-fiction with titles of international interest, which might help to generate profit through improved sales of foreign rights. Furthermore, the industry must address its continuing failure to publicise, market and distribute their books effectively abroad.
Then, rather than bemoaning the success of their British counterparts, Irish publishing might welcome home experienced Irish staff and create suitable publishing houses for our great Irish literary talent."
Periodic Plump for Independent Everything
It's that time again, time to rant and rave about the neglected glories of small, independent presses. I am, of course, not alone in my ranting - when am I ever? tschaah, never - as witnessed by the fine folks at Branching Out, a resource for reader development. What peaked my interest is their Independent Press of the Month page, in which they present a well-informed page on whatever press has taken their fancy. This month, it's Peepal Press, which specialises in Caribbean and Black British writing.
Admirably, particularly because the independent presses needn't be integral to their programme, Branching Out also makes a point to highlight the functionality of the press' website, which is extremely important; the LEAST a small press can do is set up a decent, functional and hey, attractive website. It's a small investment, and one that small Irish publishers would do well to make. Some, like Maverick Press with their myspace page, have led the way, along with Liberties Press, but so many others have fourth-rate websites or none at all.
Likewise, while we're cleaning house on all findings indie, I've finally found an independent Irish bookseller online, which I intend to use for all gifts etc. going home. It's the web branch of Dame Street's Books Upstairs in Dublin.
With the sad closure of Greene's Bookshop's city centre shop in Dublin a while back (not dead and gone, though, they've moved to *gack* Sandyford, have a look at their websitehere), something should also be done for those who prefer to purchase in the flesh (paper?), there's this website listing of Irish independent bookshops Books Upstairs in Dublin.
Will keep up a list of interesting independent publishers and sellers in the lists to the right, starting with the amazing Snow Books/and their lovely staff blog. They're doing something very clever, bringing the bloggers directly to them rather than having to go out and find them. At any rate, hopefully I'll doing a better job on the indie list than I have of the short fiction posts, *blog guilt blog guilt*...
Admirably, particularly because the independent presses needn't be integral to their programme, Branching Out also makes a point to highlight the functionality of the press' website, which is extremely important; the LEAST a small press can do is set up a decent, functional and hey, attractive website. It's a small investment, and one that small Irish publishers would do well to make. Some, like Maverick Press with their myspace page, have led the way, along with Liberties Press, but so many others have fourth-rate websites or none at all.
Likewise, while we're cleaning house on all findings indie, I've finally found an independent Irish bookseller online, which I intend to use for all gifts etc. going home. It's the web branch of Dame Street's Books Upstairs in Dublin.
With the sad closure of Greene's Bookshop's city centre shop in Dublin a while back (not dead and gone, though, they've moved to *gack* Sandyford, have a look at their websitehere), something should also be done for those who prefer to purchase in the flesh (paper?), there's this website listing of Irish independent bookshops Books Upstairs in Dublin.
Will keep up a list of interesting independent publishers and sellers in the lists to the right, starting with the amazing Snow Books/and their lovely staff blog. They're doing something very clever, bringing the bloggers directly to them rather than having to go out and find them. At any rate, hopefully I'll doing a better job on the indie list than I have of the short fiction posts, *blog guilt blog guilt*...
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Read Short Fiction, Dammit
I work in a publishing house on the fiction list, so I know, live and breathe the truth that short stories don't sell. It is true. It is indisputable. And I'll tell you something else: it's absurd. I cannot understand why, in our saw-it-on-my-RSS-feed, soundbite-luvvin' world that people cannot and will not get their heads around the short story. It is the ultimate in potted brilliance. It is the thirty-minute lunchtime workout, the Coffee Break Spanish, the breakfast-in-a-shake of literature. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. A double espresso with no time to stir the sugar, down the hatch, crumple the paper cup and move on, gets your heart racing and out into the world. How can it NOT appeal to commuters, new mothers, travelling salesmen, teenagers and those who love to read but haven't the time? It never ceases to baffle me.
So, in the hope of inspiring a little appreciation for the gorgeous morsel, the tiny square of sticky baklava, the perfectly round pork-pie that is a fine piece of short fiction, I'm going to go out there and find one every week and post it, right here. And just to keep up the visuals, I'll include a parkbench original to complement the broader theme of the work.
Watch! Next post coming up... now!
So, in the hope of inspiring a little appreciation for the gorgeous morsel, the tiny square of sticky baklava, the perfectly round pork-pie that is a fine piece of short fiction, I'm going to go out there and find one every week and post it, right here. And just to keep up the visuals, I'll include a parkbench original to complement the broader theme of the work.
Watch! Next post coming up... now!
Friday, March 02, 2007
Oh, dear. It's the fruit of my labours.
So you read. You read a lot. Forty, a hundred pages, three manuscripts per editor per week, two editors. You review, write reports, synopses, opinions, comparisons researched on the internet, in catalogues, the papers. You chat with colleagues, fight your corner, humour your editor, or not. You find foreign language readers, second readers, second opinions and insider insights. Africans, Irish, amateur botanists, historians, Middle East specialists, social workers. Whatever. The winners make it to the editorial meeting, where they might well still get shot down by dubious sales (UK or export), other editors, the MD...
For the rest, someone on the editorial side drafts the rejection letter, trying to be honest, constructive, fair, specific and yet vague enough to cover up the fact that most submissions aren't read past the first forty pages - if that. They try to maintain carefully-wrought relationships with agents, keeping them sweet but outlining an editor's likes, dislikes, likely buys and no-hope-in-Hell case scenarios yet still appearing to be open to the agents' every whim for fear they pass up the next Harry Potter or The Day of the Jackal. You tried, you all tried, and then? Then you see a website like this, and you hope that you or your office haven't been responsible for any of the worst rejection letters ever.
Now, whether Mr Hallamshire is a writer of note is of absolutely no import. I don't know of his work, nor, like the fine folks at A.P. Watt, is science fiction my thing, but I would never, ever write or be permitted to send anything so laid back, so dismissive, so... bad. What is disturbing here is the total lack of writing ability on the part of the editorial staff. Sure, time is a problem, as is the volume coming in from agents is astonishing, and on the agenting end, well, God only knows. If we get three or four fiction submissions per editor per day, I can but imagine what the agents get. But oi. If this is legit, try harder.
For the rest, someone on the editorial side drafts the rejection letter, trying to be honest, constructive, fair, specific and yet vague enough to cover up the fact that most submissions aren't read past the first forty pages - if that. They try to maintain carefully-wrought relationships with agents, keeping them sweet but outlining an editor's likes, dislikes, likely buys and no-hope-in-Hell case scenarios yet still appearing to be open to the agents' every whim for fear they pass up the next Harry Potter or The Day of the Jackal. You tried, you all tried, and then? Then you see a website like this, and you hope that you or your office haven't been responsible for any of the worst rejection letters ever.
Now, whether Mr Hallamshire is a writer of note is of absolutely no import. I don't know of his work, nor, like the fine folks at A.P. Watt, is science fiction my thing, but I would never, ever write or be permitted to send anything so laid back, so dismissive, so... bad. What is disturbing here is the total lack of writing ability on the part of the editorial staff. Sure, time is a problem, as is the volume coming in from agents is astonishing, and on the agenting end, well, God only knows. If we get three or four fiction submissions per editor per day, I can but imagine what the agents get. But oi. If this is legit, try harder.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Greetings, Blogland

Being a thoroughly 21st-century gal these days, I thought that the time had come to start a blog. It will be, and hopefully remain, a fairly anonymous effort. My aim is to meet and greet some of the likeminded books bloggers, writers and critics whose work I've come across in the last year.
I make no promises to be regular in my posts, sociable in my nature, nor positive in my outlook, but I will try to keep it interesting and topical and include some photos of mine and others I like. Stealing images and words isn't nice, so try to avoid it, and I'll plan to do the same.
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