That Old Book Smell

 Lovers of musty-odoured old tomes need no longer dread the e-book: O’Reilly Radar has reported that

CafeScribe.com will be sending eBook buyers a scratch-and-sniff sticker to bring the musty smell of “old books” to digital reading.

Gimmick it may be, but this has a whiff of the ridiculous to me.  Electronic readers and ebooks won’t appeal in their capacity to mimic paper, but in the functionality that they offer over and above that of the book.  I’m no technowizz, but I’d much rather that an ebook offered a wealth of hyperlinks, some audio options and a really good search function than the potential to pong slightly, fan as I am of that old book smell.

That said, I’ve been having fun imagining the different scents that could be sent with each of the Hesperus Press books.  The Aubrey title above is a definite candidate for the musty smell; I think the following would also warrant some pleasant perfumes, although I can’t always put my finger on why:

      

Ellie

Chinese Whispers

Now that we’re over the hump and hurtling towards the weekend, allow me to dampen your spirits by sharing with you two of my more depressing finds from recent explorations of the world wide web.

The first comes from an unexpected source, Simon’s usually cheery Stuck In A Book blog.  Now, the post itself is far from depressing; it’s actually rather nice to see one of our titles up there among Simon’s most prized books.  But on perusing the comments, I found the following, from the author Linda Gillard:

I thought you might be interested (well, horrified actually) to read this quote from the depressingly informative journal of the Society of Authors, The Author. In an article by Danuta Kean (who has dished so much dirt on the publishing business she must surely have a contract out on her by now) she quotes a marketing & sales director who says “If Asda says they would order 100,000 copies with a different jacket, you change it. As simple as that.”

Tesco has the same clout of course. A friend of mine was delighted with her proposed cover but Tesco didn’t like it and requested something pinker and more pastel. They got it.

Fortunately, with a list comprised of neglected classics, European literary fiction in translation, and biographies of literary greats, I don’t think we’re much at risk of having either Asda or Tesco challenge our design sensibilities.

And if you thought that was bleak, you may want to stop reading now.  Rumour has it that the heads of music at certain major British radio stations are now advising record company A&R people to consult them before signing new acts, using their clout as decision-makers in distribution of air time to influence decisions that would once have been made by other parties.

Although they’re taking place in different industries, these developments (rumour or otherwise) both seem to me to be part and parcel of the same movement of power, and I can’t help but find it all a little dispiriting.  I suppose, to put a positive spin on it, publishers and record companies are now in the enviable position of having more information than ever before about their markets and the viability of their products, but what of the integrity of art?

Ellie – jaded

Full of the Joys of, er, Spring ’08 Actually.

Phew, it’s been a hard slog… But finally the Spring 2008 catalogue is off to our designers for setting. I have to admit that it still astounds me to be working a whole year in advance. I’ve barely gotten over Christmas yet!

The copy has been written, polished, proofed and is winging its way over to Smithfield Market (don’t ask), and the covers have, well very nearly, been approved. I’m not going to let the fact that I am still waiting on quotations for several images I’d like to use spoil my afternoon though, as I have yet again struck something of a coup in the world of pretty pictures, even if I do say so myself. These two photographs, by Nina and Jill respectively, are not stock images – they are original works of art, never intended by their creators to be gracing the covers of our humble little publications, and I am really rather proud at having discovered them.   

 

The reason I like working with individuals, or even amateurs if you prefer, is that they want us to use their imges, that they respond, as far as time zones will allow, immediately, that they are eager to collaborate with us, to meet our needs, and above all, and without exception, they are charming, friendly people too. They make my job a lot easier, and are a source of real pleasure. So thank you Nina and Jill (this time around). I’m not going to reveal what titles these are going to become: I think I’ll leave you guessing…

KA, Shortly to be Shorn.  At Last.

On Covers, Catalogues, and Being Inclusive

Well, how lovely.  Really drives home what Katya was saying the other day about each of our covers telling a story.  Perhaps the best thing about all of this is that, thanks to the weirdly warming invention that is the world wide web, we are able to read the ending of pahness’ story for ourselves.  Makes you feel all fuzzy inside, doesn’t it?

 In other covers-related news, we’re currently getting our Spring 2008 catalogue together – I still boggle at the fact that everything in this industry has to be decided roughly seventeen years in advance – so there’s been plenty of umming and ahhing over pretty pictures in the office.  Needless to say, Katya’s done us proud, once again. 

I recently came across another pleasant surprise lurking in a distant corner of the blogosphere, thankfully reported to me by Google Alerts.  For those who, like me, already have 47 browser windows open:

…this past week while discussing my ongoing short story project (I think I’ve mentioned that I am trying to gain a better understanding of why I, and so many other readers, struggle with short stories) I mentioned to my co-worker, a former librarian, that the short stories of Virginia Woolf are nutty. More so than her novels that I love. He marched upstairs in the library to find a copy of her “Monday or Tuesday” collection and he returned with a gorgeous edition that I’d never seen. After a little research we discovered this wonderful publishing company called the Hesperus Press. I was, of course, interested immediately by the name–I assume taken from Longfellow’s great poem, and the subtitle on their website, “et remotissima prope” (from the latin–to bring near what is far). After perusing their website both my co-worker and I were VERY impressed by the titles available and the beautifully designed covers. The England-based company has a limited, but impressive listing of books, all of which have great new forewords. My level of appreciation and awe for this company spiked as I read the last listing in their catalogue–”Zastrozzi.” For those of you with no interest in literature, Percy Byshhe Shelly wrote two novels prior to publishing his works of poetry. His lesser known novels are not readily available, but Hesperus has his first, “Zastrozzi.” Unbelievable.

 Well, shucks.  And thank you to Tara over at The Political Game . 

 May I also draw your attention to this debate on the Guardian Books Blog, about the apparent under-representation of gay fiction in UK publishing.  Some valid and thought provoking posts from both sides of the argument – I agree both that the dwindling number of independent and niche publishers (and the difficulties faced by those that remain) poses a threat to literary diversity, and also that books must be published on the basis of literary merit rather than any sort of positive discrimination.  Clearly, it’s a very contentious issue, with the post notching up 40-odd replies. 

 

I’d like to point out, in my most sickeningly sycophantic voice, that Hesperus Press has recently published Wings by Mikhail Kuzmin, the only available edition in a brand new translation of the first Russian novel to focus on homosexuality.   It goes without saying, of course, that this title was chosen on the strength of its literary worth rather than the current focus on its themes, but we are nevertheless thrilled to be doing our bit to represent marginalised voices.

Ellie
 

My book’s ‘arder than your book

Try to stifle your sobs: that promise to return to the subject of literary translation will have to remain unfulfilled this week, as I have a burning question which has been bothering me since yesterday’s editorial meeting.

Of the titles scheduled for publication in Spring 2008, there are a few which we intend to produce in hardback.  The decision was reached, fairly unanimously, that we would fall into line with industry practice by producing these hardbacks in a larger format.  Previous Hesperus hardbacks, for the inexplicably (and frankly inexcusably!) uninitiated, have been the same size as our paperbacks, give or take a few millimetres’ allowance for the thicker covering.  The page format has remained our standard size of about 12.5 x 19.5 cms. 

This size works.  It’s convenient, can be stowed in a bag and leave room for an emergency packet of crisps and other of life’s essentials, can be read on the tube without menacing your neighbours’ ribcages and incurring death stares into the bargain, and can be enjoyed from the comfort of a sofa or even, luxury of luxuries, bed, rather than the pulpit required to hold the average hardback.  And, to my mind, it just looks nicer, however flabby that reasoning may be.

And yet we decided, en masse, that it may well be necessary to abandon this mode of publication, because the sad fact seems to be that bigger books sell better.  And ever since, I’ve been tearing out my hair trying to figure out why???  Do people really prefer these unwiedly tomes?  Has there, unbeknownst to me, been a crisis in the doorstop industry, forcing the panicked masses into the nation’s bookshops in search of the nearest unnecessarily large object?

Or is it simply, and depressingly, an issue of space in the bookshop?  Katya hinted yesterday at the difficulty of getting our small-but-perfectly-formed books noticed on a stacked shelf, and it strikes me that the same issue is probably at play here.  People are just more likely to notice something that encroaches more on their field of vision, to state the blindingly (boom boom!) obvious.  So it seems that, if our books are to stand a fighting chance in a market increasingly dominated by stack-’em-high chain stores, we’ll have to give them a bit of extra muscle.

The fantasist in me would love to think that there was another, less dismal reason that these books sell better.  Any ideas?  Please…?  I’d love to hear any thoughts on this issue.

ER

Judge a Book by its Cover

A little behind the times, but I’ve finally found a moment to sit down with last week’s Bookseller, and was arrested by an article on the processes which go into a book’s final jacket design. In Eye Candy Joel Rickett discusses the idea of market research’s place in the decision making process, and I must admit to having found that miniscule glimpse into the workings of a large publishing house fascinating – they have, like, a whole load of separate departments! Our design process is so much simpler, and I suspect allows us so much more freedom in our final choices. I pick a selection of pictures, we sit down over a couple of pizzas, I hold some pieces of paper up over the computer screen to try and explain what I mean when I say ‘if we crop it like this…’, and the one that we all like gets the go-ahead. Ta-da! Admittedly we’re not selling Mass-market Blockbusters, but I think we do OK.

The reason I’m dwelling on covers at the moment is that I’ve been eagerly anticipating the arrival of our latest batch of books, because two of the titles are in my opinion two of the most beautiful covers we’ve had in ages. I don’t like everything I choose, and in some cases it comes down to a looming deadline, fifty other things to do, and so I plump for the least hideous/bland image I have found, but for the most part I can honestly say that choosing our covers is the best part of my job, and I feel a real sense of pride when our books arrive. I mean I love, I really really love the moment I open the box and can hold them. There are times the office looks like it’s scattered with bright little jewels, they’re so precious.

It’s a shame then that we only really get spine out space in bookshops. And a real joy when we get a face out (the Significant Other, it must be said, has become rather adept at entering any and every bookshop he sees and surreptitiously turning Hesperus titles face out. Got him well trained…) like we have done in my local, Wimbledon Books and Music, where I was delighted to see this just the other week…

Independents are essentially the only places we can get this space, as they tend to be run by people who choose to stock our titles, as much for the pretty covers as the text within, and whose own inclinations ultimately decide their displays, while the major chains have to fulfil certain quotas in terms of shelf space, and perceive us as a ‘niche’ publisher: at around a hundred pages a pop, that’s about 1cm spine width to attract someone to our books! No wonder Dan Brown does so well… Why I say it’s a shame, is that so many of our cover images have great stories in themselves – like the photographs taken by a fifteen year old in New York, or the eighteen year old student in Germany, or the late twenty-something guy who six months later turned out to be her boyfriend…

I’ll leave you with a selection of my favourites from the past year, non of which are stock images, all individual, all of which have an real live person with whom I interact behind them. And this, is why I love my job…

        

Apparently our Cousin Phillis made Jenny Uglow cry…

KA, Feeling a bit Girly