A few weeks ago, a friend e-mailed me with a request. She had an author coming to Portland for a reading; would I be able to drive him from his hotel to the bookstore?
Go to a reading? You don't have to ask me twice. So, on a recent rainy Wednesday (is there any other kind in the Pacific Northwest in March?) I had the pleasure of meeting Dominique Fabre. Dominique is well-known in his native France, where he's published nine novels to widespread acclaim. But he's virtually unknown in the U.S., because none of his books have been translated into English.
That's where my friend comes in. Jill Schoolman is the founder and publisher of Archipelago Books, a small independent press dedicated to bringing the best of the world's literature to the United States. I met Jill some years back, at the Pacific Northwest Writers' Conference. I was there to pitch my first novel to agents and editors. At the time, she was an editor at Seven Stories Press. She sat down next to me at the conference's opening banquet; we started talking, and we haven't stopped since. That was when I first heard about her idea--more than an idea, her passion. Less than one percent of books published in the U.S. every year are translations of foreign works. Why? Because common wisdom says that Americans aren't interested in reading them. If Americans won't buy translations, then obviously there's no point in publishing them. Right?
Jill believes the common wisdom is wrong. She believes it so strongly, she quit her job at Seven Stories and leaped off the proverbial cliff: She founded her own publishing house.
Everyone told her she was nuts. The odds of any independent press succeeding are astronomically high, let alone one devoted to translations. In addition to the usual costs of acquiring, editing, designing, and producing the books, there's the additional burden of finding and paying top-notch translators. But Jill was determined--and where Jill is determined, odds don't seem to matter. Now in its fourth year, Archipelago Books boasts 35 titles hailing from all corners of the world: Lebanon, Poland, Japan, Russia, Palestine, Germany, Brazil, Korea and Bosnia, among others. Just last week, Archipelago Books won the 2008 Miriam Bass Award for Creativity in Independent Publishing, in recognition of its "commitment to enriching and broadening the American literary landscape through the publication of...a host of distinguished international authors." A whole new catalog of books is coming out from Archipelago this year; Dominque Fabre's gorgeous little novel, The Waitress Was New, is but one.
The reading, held at one of Portland's best-loved indie stores, Looking Glass Books, was cozy and informal. Dominque spoke with delightful, self-deprecating humor about his writing process, about publishing in France ("All my books sell the same number of copies," he said. "I think perhaps I'll put my grocery list between two covers, and see if it sells the same"), and about the experience of being translated into English; he said the translator, Jordan Stump, did a marvelous job. Afterward, we headed up the street for dinner and drinks with the bookstore owner, Karin Anna, along with the Looking Glass staff and many of the guests who had come to the reading. It was a wonderful evening with great conversation, but not a late one. Dominique was Amtrak-bound early the next morning for Seattle, where he read at Elliot Bay Books--the final stop on his first American tour.
All made possible by one woman's unshakeable belief that Americans will embrace the world in literature...if only we get the chance.
Countdown to publication of Ten Cents a Dance: One week!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Countdown to publication: Four weeks, minus 1 day.
This is when many authors go slowly nuts. All revisions on the book—for better or worse—are finished. Not even a comma can be changed; not even a question mark. Someone is working hard, turning manuscript pages into actual books; but the author’s part in the creation is over. Marketing and publicity plans have been finalized. The heady days of e-mails and phone calls between author and publisher are at a lull. Nothing now requires the author’s input.
Cue the nail-biting.
I’m no good at waiting for a bus, let alone a publication date. When it comes to the quiet time, it’s like all caffeine, all the time. I’m scattered. I can’t get to sleep. I fret about everything. That the book won’t get reviewed. That it will get reviewed, and the reviews will read exactly like hideous, cackling hyena laughs, if hyena laughs could be translated into English. I fret that the pub date will come and no one will notice because readers will be too busy swarming around another title. You don’t even want to know how many young adult novels are pubbing the same day as mine. In fact, I don’t want to know. I stopped counting at six.
So, yeah. It's the quiet time, and I’ve got the pre-pub jitters like you wouldn’t believe.
This is what helps:
My sweetie, who has the front row seat for every fret and anxiety I can dream up, and who still hasn’t run screaming out the door.
My writer friends, who get the deal because they’ve been through it themselves—especially Sally Nemeth, who took me on the hunt for a fab 1940s dress to wear to my publication shindig, and the hunt was good, and spoils were brought back to the lair in triumph. Did I mention the fabulousness? Oh, child. There’ll be pics, you just wait.
My non-writer friends, who are steeped in yet more wonderfulness because they get it, too. Or they’re all actors right up there with Cate Blanchett, only Cate Blanchett would be getting that narrow-eyed little frown of hers that makes ordinary people look like ferrets and yet she remains gorgeous as she telegraphs with her ice-making eyes, You’ve become a crashing bore, get hold of yourself, can’t you? Bloody American, and none of my wonderful friends are doing that. Yet.
Kitties falling asleep on my keyboard.
Working on the next book. Because no matter what flavor of reality ends up smacking itself all over the book about to hit the shelves, there’s always another story that needs telling. Publishing is one thing. Writing is a whole different beast. Writers write, and so…off I go.
While I wait, the next story is waiting for me.