Conversations in the Book Trade: Books, art, art-books, and ... authorial movies.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Reminder
Just a brief reminder that my Truth Marathon webpage is only a click away. (Not that this post should be construed as suggesting my sister site is short on visitors; only a few days ago, Adam Brown was kind enough to pop by just before he had to "leave to the airport" and remind me about the site he "told me about before" where he "types some stuff" and makes "good money". (Typing for good money, of course, being the fall-back plan when typing for bad money doesn't work out.))
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Online Fiction
I recently added the following to my list of online literary magazines:
absent
3711 Atlantic
21 Stars Review
2 River
Drunken Boat
Mustachioed
Sub-Lit
This in addition to several other worthwhile literary sites, such as Dark Sky, failbetter, Identity Theory, Juked, Storyglossia, The Danforth Review, The Kenyon Review, LWOT, and others.
Reading fiction online may not be what the Internet is best-known for. But it's something that makes the Net worth knowing.
absent
3711 Atlantic
21 Stars Review
2 River
Drunken Boat
Mustachioed
Sub-Lit
This in addition to several other worthwhile literary sites, such as Dark Sky, failbetter, Identity Theory, Juked, Storyglossia, The Danforth Review, The Kenyon Review, LWOT, and others.
Reading fiction online may not be what the Internet is best-known for. But it's something that makes the Net worth knowing.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
LOVEOGRAPHY 1: Inside Haemi Fortress
EXT. A SMALL KOREAN VILLAGE. AN EARLY SUMMER EVENING, MID-WEEK.
A WESTERN MAN is walking down the city's main street. To his left is Haemi Fortress, a medieval Korean fort. Its wall is built of unevenly-matched stones, each lightened by age to a gentle ochre, as if the stone itself has softened.
The MAN walking beside this wall has a peaceful expression on his face. But from his body language we can tell he's lonely.
VO: Those were the days before I met you.
SFX: A light breeze.
EXT. THE INNER COURTYARD OF THE FORTRESS. MOMENTS LATER.
The Western man sees a group of CHILDREN. They are giggling and playing with each other. Then one of them spots the man.
CHILD: 의국인! [Foreigner]
SECOND CHILD: [sing-songy] Hello!
MAN: [smiling] Hello.
ALL CHILDREN: [gleefully] Hello! Hello!
MAN: [speaking slowly] Can you speak English?
The CHILDREN suddenly start to giggle uproariously. But their amusement is more a symptom of shyness than a desire to carry the game any further. They run away, still laughing.
The MAN continues walking. He makes his way through small, sad, empty streets.
V.O.: Chris Marker once asked how we can remember thirst. What I want to know is, how can we remember loneliness? It penetrates not just oneself but the world. Reality itself appears changed. The side-streets suck themselves empty, their noise vacuumed behind shuttered store-fronts. The sky pulls itself as taut as a blue drum. The clouds starve themselves and harm themselves, like self-loathing anorexics.
And as the world seems to change, so does the self: feel lonely enough, and that juncture of soul and body that comprises what you think of as you becomes as parched as cracked soil. The lonely individual is ancient, he is dirt.
INT. AN EVANGELICAL CHURCH. TEN MINUTES LATER.
The MAN enters. He is somewhat surprised to see a CROWD OF WORSHIPPERS. They are very involved in their prayers.
The MAN walks cautiously forward.
A MIDDLE-AGED KOREAN MAN spots him.
CUT TO: CLOSE UP of MIDDLE-AGED KOREAN MAN.
MIDDLE-AGED KOREAN MAN: 하느님! 하느님이 자를 사랑하습니다! [God! God loves you!]
The MAN pulls back, alarmed.
EXT. A STREET. MOMENTS LATER.
The MAN is walking by himself again. He looks even sadder than before. A DIFFERENT CHILD spots him.
DIFFERENT CHILD: [especially enthusiastically] Hello!
V.O.: I don't know what it is was about that kid's voice. It went to my heart -- pierced it, like an exquisitely fine spear, the sharp end of sweetness. And it was this strange combination of sensations -- the needle's prick and the blood's sunny melt -- that suddenly transported me (there's no other phrase) to a different time. It was a time in the more recent past, when I still felt the residual parch of loneliness. But it was a time when I started to feel.
I mean, it was a time when I started to feel again.
Judy Stoffman
Judy Stoffman of the books section of the Toronto Star:
1. Literature is in trouble -- that is, more trouble than usual. Why do you think this is? The increasing prevalence of TV? The distractions of narcotic subcultures such as video games? Sept. 11? Or is talk of the "death of literature" simple exaggeration?
It's no exaggeration, alas. Books are published by the thousands and some are even being read but they have lost their authority, their central place in the culture. When I interviewed Norman Mailer recently in New York, he told me he was appalled that at dinner parties people are arguing over the latest television show they have seen, not the latest book. Young people have had their attention span damaged by the instant gratification of DVDs and videogames. My own newspaper, the Star, allots way more space to film coverage that to books, in part because publishers rarely advertise and film theatres do.
2. Prizes and awards are playing an increasing role in determining an author's career-trajectory. In short, winning a major literary prize can win a writer a large audience overnight (not to mention, considerable fame and financial remuneration). But, as British critic Jason Cowley has observed, what is lost is the ability for readers to think in a critically complex fashion. Please comment.
Well, there is some truth to that, although given the deluge of books out there, prizes can clear away the undergrowth and point confused readers towards books worth reading. Book clubs often make their choices based on the short lists for the Booker or the Dublin IMPAC or the Giller prize. Prizes are the new reviews, it has been said. But it's not illegal yet to read a prize winning book and find it deeply flawed.
In Canada, there are way too many prizes; they may have reached a point of diminishing returns, and become less effective as sales boosters.
3. Continuing with the same theme, are literary prizes dangerous in this regard? Do they convey to the public the message that "this book is worth reading and all these others aren't"?
Dangerous? Of course, there are always fine books that are overlooked by juries and it's highly satisfying to discover them for oneself.
4. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being pushed out?
The way it works is that agents arrange auctions for books with commercial potential, which drives up the cost of the book to the publisher. The more the publisher shells out for the rights, the more he/she will invest in promotion and advertising to make sure the book sells enough to recoup the investment. That the book will be a bestseller is therefore a self-fulfilling prophesy.
It's hard to generalize about "art" and whether it's being lost--after all Philip Roth, Alice Munro, Ross King, Wayson Choy, William Boyd, Orhan Pamuk do get published.
5. As well, should the Canadian cultural nationalism of the 1970s make a comeback? Do we need a "National Culture Policy" that will put more Canadian books front and center in bookstores?
No, the government is already overinvolved. Smart booksellers will feature Canadian books because Canadian readers want them.
6. In Aug. 25, 2006, you wrote an article entitled "CanLit Bonfire in the NY Times" about an commentary piece by Douglas Coupland in which he argues that Canadian fiction possesses a disproportionate amount of writing placed in rural settings and not enough in urban environments.
First, do you agree with Coupland's argument? Are Canadian writers trapped in what Andrew Pyper referred to as the "brand" of CanLit (a brand that presumably emphasizes the rural)? Or, as Patrick Crean puts it in the same article, is Coupland's characterization of CanLit "nonsense", and is he simply stereotyping a period of Canadian writing that no longer exists?
I agree with Patrick Crean. I have interviewed Douglas several times and never had the sense he is a great reader. He has not kept up. He is a visual artist, primarily, well informed about art and popular culture. I love the bee-hive like paper sculptures he made after chewing up his own own books.
7. Returning to the same article: in it, Patrick Crean mentions that Canada has the toughest book market in the English speaking world -- that is, Canadian publishers are constantly locked in competition with their (larger) U.S. and U.K. counterparts. Yet recently, author and culture critic R. M. Vaughan has remarked that Canadian publishers and agents have a conspicuous aversion to genre fiction -- in other words, they avoid commercial fiction that stands a good chance of selling.
Is part of the reason Canadian publishing is constantly in a struggle because of an underlying snobbery? Does CanLit need more GenreLit? Or are there other alternative ways the Canadian publishing industry can carve out a larger, more profitable share of the book market than it does now?
No, in 10 years of covering publishing I've never known a publisher to be a snob. They'll publish anything they think will sell. All kinds of genre lit have been tried and none of it sold as well in Canada as, say, Margaret Atwood. It could be that Canadian readers are more serious than U.S. book buyers. Two of the bestselling books in recent years have been the political expose On the Take by Stevie Cameron and the demographic study, Boom, Bust and Echo. Each sold more than 200,000 copies.
Judy Stoffman is one of the pre-eminent arts journalists in Canada. She regularly writes on book publishing for the Toronto Star.
1. Literature is in trouble -- that is, more trouble than usual. Why do you think this is? The increasing prevalence of TV? The distractions of narcotic subcultures such as video games? Sept. 11? Or is talk of the "death of literature" simple exaggeration?
It's no exaggeration, alas. Books are published by the thousands and some are even being read but they have lost their authority, their central place in the culture. When I interviewed Norman Mailer recently in New York, he told me he was appalled that at dinner parties people are arguing over the latest television show they have seen, not the latest book. Young people have had their attention span damaged by the instant gratification of DVDs and videogames. My own newspaper, the Star, allots way more space to film coverage that to books, in part because publishers rarely advertise and film theatres do.
2. Prizes and awards are playing an increasing role in determining an author's career-trajectory. In short, winning a major literary prize can win a writer a large audience overnight (not to mention, considerable fame and financial remuneration). But, as British critic Jason Cowley has observed, what is lost is the ability for readers to think in a critically complex fashion. Please comment.
Well, there is some truth to that, although given the deluge of books out there, prizes can clear away the undergrowth and point confused readers towards books worth reading. Book clubs often make their choices based on the short lists for the Booker or the Dublin IMPAC or the Giller prize. Prizes are the new reviews, it has been said. But it's not illegal yet to read a prize winning book and find it deeply flawed.
In Canada, there are way too many prizes; they may have reached a point of diminishing returns, and become less effective as sales boosters.
3. Continuing with the same theme, are literary prizes dangerous in this regard? Do they convey to the public the message that "this book is worth reading and all these others aren't"?
Dangerous? Of course, there are always fine books that are overlooked by juries and it's highly satisfying to discover them for oneself.
4. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being pushed out?
The way it works is that agents arrange auctions for books with commercial potential, which drives up the cost of the book to the publisher. The more the publisher shells out for the rights, the more he/she will invest in promotion and advertising to make sure the book sells enough to recoup the investment. That the book will be a bestseller is therefore a self-fulfilling prophesy.
It's hard to generalize about "art" and whether it's being lost--after all Philip Roth, Alice Munro, Ross King, Wayson Choy, William Boyd, Orhan Pamuk do get published.
5. As well, should the Canadian cultural nationalism of the 1970s make a comeback? Do we need a "National Culture Policy" that will put more Canadian books front and center in bookstores?
No, the government is already overinvolved. Smart booksellers will feature Canadian books because Canadian readers want them.
6. In Aug. 25, 2006, you wrote an article entitled "CanLit Bonfire in the NY Times" about an commentary piece by Douglas Coupland in which he argues that Canadian fiction possesses a disproportionate amount of writing placed in rural settings and not enough in urban environments.
First, do you agree with Coupland's argument? Are Canadian writers trapped in what Andrew Pyper referred to as the "brand" of CanLit (a brand that presumably emphasizes the rural)? Or, as Patrick Crean puts it in the same article, is Coupland's characterization of CanLit "nonsense", and is he simply stereotyping a period of Canadian writing that no longer exists?
I agree with Patrick Crean. I have interviewed Douglas several times and never had the sense he is a great reader. He has not kept up. He is a visual artist, primarily, well informed about art and popular culture. I love the bee-hive like paper sculptures he made after chewing up his own own books.
7. Returning to the same article: in it, Patrick Crean mentions that Canada has the toughest book market in the English speaking world -- that is, Canadian publishers are constantly locked in competition with their (larger) U.S. and U.K. counterparts. Yet recently, author and culture critic R. M. Vaughan has remarked that Canadian publishers and agents have a conspicuous aversion to genre fiction -- in other words, they avoid commercial fiction that stands a good chance of selling.
Is part of the reason Canadian publishing is constantly in a struggle because of an underlying snobbery? Does CanLit need more GenreLit? Or are there other alternative ways the Canadian publishing industry can carve out a larger, more profitable share of the book market than it does now?
No, in 10 years of covering publishing I've never known a publisher to be a snob. They'll publish anything they think will sell. All kinds of genre lit have been tried and none of it sold as well in Canada as, say, Margaret Atwood. It could be that Canadian readers are more serious than U.S. book buyers. Two of the bestselling books in recent years have been the political expose On the Take by Stevie Cameron and the demographic study, Boom, Bust and Echo. Each sold more than 200,000 copies.
Judy Stoffman is one of the pre-eminent arts journalists in Canada. She regularly writes on book publishing for the Toronto Star.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Michael Bryson
Michael Bryson of The Danforth Review:
1. Literature is in trouble -- that is, more trouble than usual. Why do you think this is? The increasing prevalence of TV? The distractions of narcotic subcultures such as video games? Sept. 11? Or is talk of the "death of literature" simple exaggeration?
I would say that literature is like Christianity. If it isn’t being persecuted, it isn’t doing its job. I know that’s probably an odd and possibly provocative statement, but I can’t agree with a bald statement that “literature is in trouble.” At the same time, I wouldn’t agree that “death of literature” is a “simple exaggeration” either. Literature has always been a sub-culture. I’m not sure video games are any more a risk to literature than television or nuclear weapons. Apparently 9/11 was a pretty big threat to literature, though, because sales of fiction fell dramatically as everyone started reading nonfiction frantically to understand what the hell was going on.
2. And what is literature, anyway? Should the novel be considered the prime example of it?
In absolutely no way should the novel be considered the prime example of literature. Literature has three major genres: poetry, short story and novel. But then there is also the novella. And, of course, the essay. What is literature, anyway? I would prefer a definition along the lines of “a mode of thinking.” What kind of mode of thinking? A mode of thinking that filters experienced reality through the imagination and acknowledges that life is a mystery never to be fully untangled. One goes to literature for insight into the mystery. The mystery is perpetually unfolding. If the mystery disappeared, literature would then be dead. Video games won’t kill literature. An end to curiosity would, but I believe humans are innately curious.
3. Prizes and awards are playing an increasing role in determining an author's career-trajectory. In short, winning a major literary prize can win a writer a large audience overnight (not to mention, considerable fame and financial remuneration). But, as British critic Jason Cowley has observed, what is lost is the ability for readers to think in a critically complex fashion. Are literary prizes dangerous in this regard? Do they convey to the public the message that "this book is worth reading and all these others aren't"?
Prizes do convey the message that “this book is worth reading.” At least, according to the jury who awarded the prize. However, it’s a leap to suggest that because there are prizes, people lose their ability to “think in a critically complex fashion.” Does the existence of the Oscars mean people stop thinking about which movies they “like”? That said, while people may know which movies they like, does that mean they can think critically about them? Of course not. Critical thinking is a learned activity. Most people don’t learn it. They don’t care to. And that’s okay. For them, prizes can tell them what to read. For the critical readers out there, the prizes are a distraction from the real conversations they have with each other about what books they have been awed by recently, which ones they recommend reading and which ones they recommend avoiding. In short, prizes are irrelevant to literature, but good for the book trade.
4. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being pushed out?
I’m not sure what you’re talking about here. Sounds more 1996 than 2006. Or rather, I’m not sure anything has really changed, except as I said after 9/11 it’s a fact that fiction sales fell and nonfiction sales rose. Also, the big publishers have become bigger and focused more on the bottom line than they did, say, when William Faulkner was about to lose money on virtually every book he ever wrote. So, I’m not sure there’s a “recent years” phenomena. In Canada, the small presses were put under tremendous pressure in the late 1990s by Chapters. But that had nothing to do with agents and marketing people. I think the business as a whole is more complex than this question suggests.
5. As well, should the Canadian cultural nationalism of the 1970s make a comeback? Do we need a "National Culture Policy" that will put more Canadian books front and center in bookstores?
No.
6. Last summer, Douglas Coupland published an article in the New York Times criticizing Canadian literature for having too many books set in rural rather than urban settings. Is he right?
I’m not sure he was saying that. I read that article and I think he was trying to be deliberately provocative. And also funny. But he also didn’t make his point very well, in my opinion. What I think he was trying to say is, Canadian writers too often repeat our cultural stereotypes and don’t take the risk to write about the modern, multi-media, globalized cultural reality that we live in. Yes, there are still books being published that read like they were written by Alice Munro in 1970. We don’t need more books like that. We need people daring to tell the truth about life right now. Coupland attempts to do that. For that, he deserves credit. I think he wishes more people took up that challenge.
7. Many major publishers now refuse to accept "unsolicited" work; that is, they will not even consider work unless it is agented. Is this a sound policy from point of view of finding the best new literary voices? Isn't there a chance good writing will be squeezed out?
If by “squeezed out” you mean “disappear from the face of the earth,” then no. But of course there is a risk that someone will write something brilliant and it will never be read by anyone. But that risk has always existed. Dr. Suess was rejected by 20+ publishers before his first book was taken. We can all be glad that he kept trying. Are agents less able to choose and champion talent? Maybe. I’m sure agents would say they look for talent, because it means they’re likely to have a longer and more productive relationship with the author. Do publishers care about “the best new literary voices”? The publishers who only speak to agents probably have a limited view of the type of author they want. The small presses, for example, still have open submissions policies, and this is where the new literary voices almost invariably begin their careers.
8. Alternatively, for small presses that do accept unsolicited work, is the problem that the majors are squeezing the small houses at the distribution/retail marketing end? In other words, even when good writers get published by small houses, do they have a fair chance of winning an audience? Or are the major houses introducing an overly corporate, overly aggressive mentality to the book trade?
You seem to be asking here if small presses can compete with large presses. You might as well as why have the New York Yankees won so many pennants in the past decade. Because size matters. Budgets matter. On the other hand, do small houses have a fair chance of winning an audience? Yes, with qualifications. Like I said, the small presses are known as the breeding ground for new writers, who nearly inevitably jump to the larger presses later. The small presses have smaller audiences, but it’s probably true that they also have more dedicated, knowledgeable audiences. Can specialty stores compete with Wal Mart? No. But they don’t have to. They have different clients.
9. Does Canada have too many publishers? Or too few?
Just right.
10. In your opinion, how will new technologies such as the e-book or audio books affect the "form" of the book?
I think it was Roberto Eco who said the book will persist because it is a perfect technology, like the glass. I tend to agree. The book form isn’t going to change substantially. Audio books are more like radio plays. E-books are … sorry, I don’t know anyone with an e-book.
11. In a review of Kenneth Harvey's Inside and Matthew Firth's Suburban Pornography in The Danforth Review, you draw a distinction between "CanLit" and "GritLit". Are there other kinds of lit that also need encouraging in Canada? For example, Philip Marchand has recently argued that Toronto still lacks a great novel. (And the same could be said for many other Canadian cities.) And R. M. Vaughan argues we need to be more accepting of genre literature. Do we need more of many kinds of "lit"? CityLit, GenreLit, etc.? In short, does Canadian literature still have a tendency to be too rigid in its thinking of what "good writing" is?
This goes back to my comments in response to question #6: Yes, Canadian literature is too dependent on certain dominant tropes, particularly a kind of lyrical realism that seemed to articulate Canada’s small-town conservative culture in the post WWII era so well that many of our writers and readers have taken the subjectivity of that position as an objective view of reality. Canada hasn’t produced writers like J.G. Ballard, for example. Well, we have. But they tend to be film makers. David Cronenberg, for example. There are experimental writers, and always have been, in Canada. But they haven’t been held up as examples of “good writing” or even seen as legitimate challengers to the leading team. Our experimental writers languish on the margins, which are smaller in Canada, because our culture and population are smaller, and so spread out coast to coast.
About different labels for different types of literature, I can’t say this interests me really. What I would like to see is a more open-minded reading public to all kinds of writing. CanLit, to go back to Coupland’s point, was so strongly defined in nationalistic terms in the 1970s, that writing that articulate elements of life other than nationality were diminished in the public imagination. This is a distortion that needs to be corrected.
12. In the same review, you also mention other exponents of the kind of writing about life on the margins that Firth is in favour of. For example, authors who have produced great work such as David Adams Richards, Daniel Jones, Milton Acorn. Is part of the problem that this sort of literature gets produced but then gets forgotten by those who shape the CanLit canon?
Bingo.
13. Lit-blogging has become a huge phenomenon. Yet Canada has proportionately few lit-blogs compared to the United States, even taking into account the difference in population. And there is often a cliquey quality to many Canadian blogs; people not responding to link requests, and otherwise engaging in petty, passive-aggressive behaviour. Are Canadians too passive about taking advantage of the possibilities blogging offers? Are we too laid back for our own good?
This is an interesting question that raises a couple of different issues. I would link it to the previous question and suggest that part of the reason why certain books are forgotten is because they are only celebrated within the cliques. There is a kind of tribal behaviour that keeps broader alliances from being formed. Which is a shame and detrimental to everyone in the long run. On the other hand, I’m not sure that Lit-blogging is the solution to the problem. I’m not a big blogger myself, and find that many blogs – literary or otherwise – foment an anti-literary attitude. I said earlier that literature was a mode of thinking. It might also be a habit of mind. Blogging seems to encourage a kind of sarcasm, a kind of aggressive I-know-better-than-you subjectivity, which isn’t what I would call “entering into the mystery of life.” So, being laid back and not into blogs might speak to the strength of our literary culture, not the weakness of it. About the Internet in general, however, I’m more optimistic. It’s a great tool for linking people, sharing ideas and inspiration and generally providing opportunities for “oh-that’s-interesting” moments.
14. Editors of small presses and literary journals tend to be taken for granted. Yet there is a strong argument for saying they stand out as real heroes of contemporary literature; they actually read work by unknowns -- a habit the major publishers and agents have, generally speaking, fallen out of. Do editors of small presses and small magazines deserve higher status within the cosmology of literature? Are they currently under-appreciated?
Absolutely. But then again, if you follow my theory about the best readers being like the specialty store shoppers, then it’s probably true that the editors are appreciated by the people who are best able to appreciate them. Minor hockey league coaches are under-appreciated by the general public compared to the NHL, but those deep in hockey know that one without the other wouldn’t exist.
Bio: Michael Bryson is the author of two short story collections: Thirteen Shades of Black and White (Turnstone Press, 1999) and Only a Lower Paradise (Boheme Press, 2000). He is also the founding editor and publisher of the online literary magazine, danforthreview.com. His story "Six Million Million Miles" appeared in 05: Best Canadian Stories (Oberon Press, 2005). His website is http://www.michaelbryson.com/
1. Literature is in trouble -- that is, more trouble than usual. Why do you think this is? The increasing prevalence of TV? The distractions of narcotic subcultures such as video games? Sept. 11? Or is talk of the "death of literature" simple exaggeration?
I would say that literature is like Christianity. If it isn’t being persecuted, it isn’t doing its job. I know that’s probably an odd and possibly provocative statement, but I can’t agree with a bald statement that “literature is in trouble.” At the same time, I wouldn’t agree that “death of literature” is a “simple exaggeration” either. Literature has always been a sub-culture. I’m not sure video games are any more a risk to literature than television or nuclear weapons. Apparently 9/11 was a pretty big threat to literature, though, because sales of fiction fell dramatically as everyone started reading nonfiction frantically to understand what the hell was going on.
2. And what is literature, anyway? Should the novel be considered the prime example of it?
In absolutely no way should the novel be considered the prime example of literature. Literature has three major genres: poetry, short story and novel. But then there is also the novella. And, of course, the essay. What is literature, anyway? I would prefer a definition along the lines of “a mode of thinking.” What kind of mode of thinking? A mode of thinking that filters experienced reality through the imagination and acknowledges that life is a mystery never to be fully untangled. One goes to literature for insight into the mystery. The mystery is perpetually unfolding. If the mystery disappeared, literature would then be dead. Video games won’t kill literature. An end to curiosity would, but I believe humans are innately curious.
3. Prizes and awards are playing an increasing role in determining an author's career-trajectory. In short, winning a major literary prize can win a writer a large audience overnight (not to mention, considerable fame and financial remuneration). But, as British critic Jason Cowley has observed, what is lost is the ability for readers to think in a critically complex fashion. Are literary prizes dangerous in this regard? Do they convey to the public the message that "this book is worth reading and all these others aren't"?
Prizes do convey the message that “this book is worth reading.” At least, according to the jury who awarded the prize. However, it’s a leap to suggest that because there are prizes, people lose their ability to “think in a critically complex fashion.” Does the existence of the Oscars mean people stop thinking about which movies they “like”? That said, while people may know which movies they like, does that mean they can think critically about them? Of course not. Critical thinking is a learned activity. Most people don’t learn it. They don’t care to. And that’s okay. For them, prizes can tell them what to read. For the critical readers out there, the prizes are a distraction from the real conversations they have with each other about what books they have been awed by recently, which ones they recommend reading and which ones they recommend avoiding. In short, prizes are irrelevant to literature, but good for the book trade.
4. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being pushed out?
I’m not sure what you’re talking about here. Sounds more 1996 than 2006. Or rather, I’m not sure anything has really changed, except as I said after 9/11 it’s a fact that fiction sales fell and nonfiction sales rose. Also, the big publishers have become bigger and focused more on the bottom line than they did, say, when William Faulkner was about to lose money on virtually every book he ever wrote. So, I’m not sure there’s a “recent years” phenomena. In Canada, the small presses were put under tremendous pressure in the late 1990s by Chapters. But that had nothing to do with agents and marketing people. I think the business as a whole is more complex than this question suggests.
5. As well, should the Canadian cultural nationalism of the 1970s make a comeback? Do we need a "National Culture Policy" that will put more Canadian books front and center in bookstores?
No.
6. Last summer, Douglas Coupland published an article in the New York Times criticizing Canadian literature for having too many books set in rural rather than urban settings. Is he right?
I’m not sure he was saying that. I read that article and I think he was trying to be deliberately provocative. And also funny. But he also didn’t make his point very well, in my opinion. What I think he was trying to say is, Canadian writers too often repeat our cultural stereotypes and don’t take the risk to write about the modern, multi-media, globalized cultural reality that we live in. Yes, there are still books being published that read like they were written by Alice Munro in 1970. We don’t need more books like that. We need people daring to tell the truth about life right now. Coupland attempts to do that. For that, he deserves credit. I think he wishes more people took up that challenge.
7. Many major publishers now refuse to accept "unsolicited" work; that is, they will not even consider work unless it is agented. Is this a sound policy from point of view of finding the best new literary voices? Isn't there a chance good writing will be squeezed out?
If by “squeezed out” you mean “disappear from the face of the earth,” then no. But of course there is a risk that someone will write something brilliant and it will never be read by anyone. But that risk has always existed. Dr. Suess was rejected by 20+ publishers before his first book was taken. We can all be glad that he kept trying. Are agents less able to choose and champion talent? Maybe. I’m sure agents would say they look for talent, because it means they’re likely to have a longer and more productive relationship with the author. Do publishers care about “the best new literary voices”? The publishers who only speak to agents probably have a limited view of the type of author they want. The small presses, for example, still have open submissions policies, and this is where the new literary voices almost invariably begin their careers.
8. Alternatively, for small presses that do accept unsolicited work, is the problem that the majors are squeezing the small houses at the distribution/retail marketing end? In other words, even when good writers get published by small houses, do they have a fair chance of winning an audience? Or are the major houses introducing an overly corporate, overly aggressive mentality to the book trade?
You seem to be asking here if small presses can compete with large presses. You might as well as why have the New York Yankees won so many pennants in the past decade. Because size matters. Budgets matter. On the other hand, do small houses have a fair chance of winning an audience? Yes, with qualifications. Like I said, the small presses are known as the breeding ground for new writers, who nearly inevitably jump to the larger presses later. The small presses have smaller audiences, but it’s probably true that they also have more dedicated, knowledgeable audiences. Can specialty stores compete with Wal Mart? No. But they don’t have to. They have different clients.
9. Does Canada have too many publishers? Or too few?
Just right.
10. In your opinion, how will new technologies such as the e-book or audio books affect the "form" of the book?
I think it was Roberto Eco who said the book will persist because it is a perfect technology, like the glass. I tend to agree. The book form isn’t going to change substantially. Audio books are more like radio plays. E-books are … sorry, I don’t know anyone with an e-book.
11. In a review of Kenneth Harvey's Inside and Matthew Firth's Suburban Pornography in The Danforth Review, you draw a distinction between "CanLit" and "GritLit". Are there other kinds of lit that also need encouraging in Canada? For example, Philip Marchand has recently argued that Toronto still lacks a great novel. (And the same could be said for many other Canadian cities.) And R. M. Vaughan argues we need to be more accepting of genre literature. Do we need more of many kinds of "lit"? CityLit, GenreLit, etc.? In short, does Canadian literature still have a tendency to be too rigid in its thinking of what "good writing" is?
This goes back to my comments in response to question #6: Yes, Canadian literature is too dependent on certain dominant tropes, particularly a kind of lyrical realism that seemed to articulate Canada’s small-town conservative culture in the post WWII era so well that many of our writers and readers have taken the subjectivity of that position as an objective view of reality. Canada hasn’t produced writers like J.G. Ballard, for example. Well, we have. But they tend to be film makers. David Cronenberg, for example. There are experimental writers, and always have been, in Canada. But they haven’t been held up as examples of “good writing” or even seen as legitimate challengers to the leading team. Our experimental writers languish on the margins, which are smaller in Canada, because our culture and population are smaller, and so spread out coast to coast.
About different labels for different types of literature, I can’t say this interests me really. What I would like to see is a more open-minded reading public to all kinds of writing. CanLit, to go back to Coupland’s point, was so strongly defined in nationalistic terms in the 1970s, that writing that articulate elements of life other than nationality were diminished in the public imagination. This is a distortion that needs to be corrected.
12. In the same review, you also mention other exponents of the kind of writing about life on the margins that Firth is in favour of. For example, authors who have produced great work such as David Adams Richards, Daniel Jones, Milton Acorn. Is part of the problem that this sort of literature gets produced but then gets forgotten by those who shape the CanLit canon?
Bingo.
13. Lit-blogging has become a huge phenomenon. Yet Canada has proportionately few lit-blogs compared to the United States, even taking into account the difference in population. And there is often a cliquey quality to many Canadian blogs; people not responding to link requests, and otherwise engaging in petty, passive-aggressive behaviour. Are Canadians too passive about taking advantage of the possibilities blogging offers? Are we too laid back for our own good?
This is an interesting question that raises a couple of different issues. I would link it to the previous question and suggest that part of the reason why certain books are forgotten is because they are only celebrated within the cliques. There is a kind of tribal behaviour that keeps broader alliances from being formed. Which is a shame and detrimental to everyone in the long run. On the other hand, I’m not sure that Lit-blogging is the solution to the problem. I’m not a big blogger myself, and find that many blogs – literary or otherwise – foment an anti-literary attitude. I said earlier that literature was a mode of thinking. It might also be a habit of mind. Blogging seems to encourage a kind of sarcasm, a kind of aggressive I-know-better-than-you subjectivity, which isn’t what I would call “entering into the mystery of life.” So, being laid back and not into blogs might speak to the strength of our literary culture, not the weakness of it. About the Internet in general, however, I’m more optimistic. It’s a great tool for linking people, sharing ideas and inspiration and generally providing opportunities for “oh-that’s-interesting” moments.
14. Editors of small presses and literary journals tend to be taken for granted. Yet there is a strong argument for saying they stand out as real heroes of contemporary literature; they actually read work by unknowns -- a habit the major publishers and agents have, generally speaking, fallen out of. Do editors of small presses and small magazines deserve higher status within the cosmology of literature? Are they currently under-appreciated?
Absolutely. But then again, if you follow my theory about the best readers being like the specialty store shoppers, then it’s probably true that the editors are appreciated by the people who are best able to appreciate them. Minor hockey league coaches are under-appreciated by the general public compared to the NHL, but those deep in hockey know that one without the other wouldn’t exist.
Bio: Michael Bryson is the author of two short story collections: Thirteen Shades of Black and White (Turnstone Press, 1999) and Only a Lower Paradise (Boheme Press, 2000). He is also the founding editor and publisher of the online literary magazine, danforthreview.com. His story "Six Million Million Miles" appeared in 05: Best Canadian Stories (Oberon Press, 2005). His website is http://www.michaelbryson.com/
Friday, February 22, 2008
Roundup
Steven Beattie and Alex Good begin their conversation on "Canada Reads"
New online fiction:
Josh Maday's "Secondary Search"
Kirsten Chen's "The Boys on the Roof"
Lynda Curnoe's "The Future of Anger"
New online fiction:
Josh Maday's "Secondary Search"
Kirsten Chen's "The Boys on the Roof"
Lynda Curnoe's "The Future of Anger"
Monday, February 04, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Steven Beattie -- critic (That Shakesperian Rag), editor (Fragile Mind)
Steven Beattie of That Shakesperian Rag and Fragile Mind Literary Services:
CBT: Steven Beattie, at your site That Shakespeherian Rag, you mentioned your experience selling foreign rights for Canadian publishers. Can you tell us a little about doing this, and any particular frustrations or positive experiences you had?
SB: Well, one of the frustrations of selling foreign rights – and this is going back eight years now; I sold foreign rights between 1999 and 2000 for Stoddart Publishing – one of the frustrations I ran into, which I alluded to on my blog, was a kind of chauvinism in the foreign markets, an antipathy toward books set in Canada, books that focused on Canada. This was particularly true in the United States; when you’re trying to market a novel set in Toronto or Montreal, you’re going to have a much harder time than if you’re trying to sell the same novel set in Boston or Chicago, because they have this very chauvinistic attitude that they don’t want to read anything that’s set outside the country. This is a very broad generalization, but I found it was an uphill battle to place Canadian fiction in the American market.
I’m not entirely sure what the reason for that is. I think to a certain degree Canadian writers need to stop having a parochial mentality, or having an inward-looking mentality. Which is not to say they should set their fiction in distant lands in order to get it sold. But I think we need to be thinking on a broader canvas in terms of the themes we write about, and start thinking about different ways to approach our subjects, as opposed to writing the same book over and over again. We’re a very young literary culture. You know, if you’re trying to sell a book to an older, European culture – such as the French or the Spanish, which have centuries of culture behind them – to a certain extent they’re going to – and this is going to sound terrible – but to a certain extent they’re going to look at things with a more sophisticated eye than perhaps we might. I think we need to think a little bit more in terms of expanding our outlook as to what a novel can be.
CBT: Philip Marchand has commented on the tendency of Canadian literature to be backward-looking, and you’ve voiced agreement with him. Can you tell us why you agree with Marchand’s point of view?
SB: I think there is this idea in our culture that there is a typical kind of Canadian novel. And this novel is set in the past, on a farm; it usually has to do with familial strife, and it’s told in very lyrical, beautifully constructed prose, but to me a lot of it seems very lifeless and bloodless.
I think there’s this idea afoot in the culture, both on the part of publishers and on the part of writers who see what kinds of books get published and what kinds of books win awards, that if you want to do well as a Canadian writer, you have to write that kind of book. And I’m not sure that’s the best way to go about creating a vibrant literary culture.
I think Marchand’s point about the culture being backward-looking has to do with both the idea of this sort of fiction being the default setting for Canadian writers, and the idea that in order to have a successful book in 2008, you have to look at what did well in 2007 or 2006, and do more of that. I think that’s self-defeating. I think it would be more interesting if writers would look around them in the present, and try to take the measure of what’s going on in the world today, and begin commenting on that and using that as their subject matter.
If you look back in literary history, most of the books that endure were written about the time the writer was living in. Because the corollary of always looking back and saying I’m going to write another novel set on the Prairies during World War Two is the unspoken assumption that there’s nothing interesting happening in Canada in 2008, and that is clearly absurd. If we want to reach a broader audience – an audience that has concerns about how the world is in 2008, and I think the novel is uniquely placed to comment on that – what we need to do is to start looking at more urban fiction, at younger fiction. We need fiction that doesn’t necessarily fit into the tried-and-true Canadian template of “this is how you tell a story.” We need fiction that broadens its horizons both stylistically and in terms of its subject matter.
We have to accept that the traditional Canadian novel can be anything the author cares to write about, and it doesn’t have to be set in the 1930s or 40s. We don’t have to deny the fact that the internet exists, that television exists, that pop culture exists, and that these things are very important forces in our lives today. In order for the novel to remain relevant, these are things that writers have to deal with.
CBT: Should Canadian publishers in particular be taking more advantage than they currently are of the potential e-publishing offers? Should they be embracing the Internet more aggressively?
SB: The short answer is yes. But the more nuanced answer is I don’t think they know how at this point. There have been a lot of attempts to engage with the internet on the part of publishers. I think they realize this is a technology that is here to stay, and if you’re going to remain relevant you’re going to have to find some way to utilize it. But I don’t think publishers have found the optimal way to do that yet. I think it’s still an open question. You’re starting to see publishers do some innovative things of the internet, like HarperCollins has a Facebook reading group, Anansi has tried to use Facebook to engage readers online.
To this point, no one has developed an effective e-reader. And I’m not sure I see that technology taking off anywhere except the academy, for the simple reason that nobody wants to read a novel on a screen. But I can see the potential for direct sales on the internet and for print-on-demand technology. Certain publishers are starting to play with that kind of thing. So yeah, I think it’s important for publishers to reckon with this new technology and integrate it into their business models. But I don’t think they’ve done it yet.
There may be potential for publishers and authors to exploit podcasting as a means of reaching a broader audience. A number of poets – Zach Wells is an example – have recorded their poetry and offered it online, and there are popular author interview series like The Bat Segundo show online as well. The concern here is that authors don’t want to give away their material for free, but people like Cory Doctorow have been experimenting with exactly that kind of mechanism and, perhaps counterintuitively, they’ve found that it actually helps boost sales of their physical books. So there’s probably room to exploit this technology as both a marketing tool and as a means of creative expression.
Bio: Steven W. Beattie, an editor and writer, began his career in publishing in 1999, selling subsidiary rights for Stoddart Publishing, which at the time was
Monday, January 28, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Bev Daurio -- author, publisher (The Mercury Press)
Bev Daurio -- author (Hell and Other Poems, etc.), editor/publisher (The Mercury Press)
1. Ever since Sept. 11, there has been a decline in book sales, particularly sales of literary fiction. And since that time, it's been common in publishing circles to explain Sept. 11 as the main "cause" of this phenomenon. Do you agree? Or have other, equally important factors been driving the decline in sales?
It'd be interesting to know the sources of numbers indicating a decline in book sales (in dollar value or numbers of copies?), and if these are U.S., Canadian, or English numbers. What we're finding is that sales of a very few very popular, mainly from the U.S., books (like Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code and similar popular non-fiction titles) are doing fine, and sales of Mercury titles have been steady or increasing-- two ends, perhaps--the largest and the smallest-- of the puzzle to which you're alluding.
I've not really heard the link with September 11 raised in more than passing as a Canadian issue, though others may feel differently. The feeling is more that we're seeing a reduction in the number of independent bookstores, who are excellent at hand-selling and knowing literary titles. Though the internet is helpful in making literary titles more available, we're witnessing a gap between that wide and predictable availability of titles that used to happen with the independents before an increase in web traffic and sales can make up for that. But I'm optimistic.
2. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being squeezed out?
There is enormous pressure on literary presses to publish less challenging and ostensibly more saleable work. These pressures, whether negative (fewer sales, or bookseller reluctance, BookNet) or positive (Department of Canadian Heritage funding through Book Publishing Industry Development Program based directly and solely on sales without regard to quality or cultural significance) are, well, difficult. Literary houses are not idiotic; they are making literary acquisition choices based on different parameters from the hope for straight sales, and if they weren't, they'd be different kinds of organizations. Never mind the fact that, for the most part, NOBODY knows what will sell, in advance (viz the huge bestseller from Cormorant, a small press, Lives of the Saints by Nino Ricci, which had been, I understand, turned down by most of the majors).
One question you raise implicitly, I think: is it worth publishing difficult, challenging, interesting, edge-pushing work, in terms of thought, form, ideas? I think it is, because it extends and affects the ways people think and understand the world, and I think it will continue to happen, even if it tends to be more concentrated in specialty presses (viz. Dalkey, Green Integer, and City Lights in the States).
The Cult of the Deal is an interesting facet of current, mostly American, publishing practice. Those huge multinational publishers have their own pressures, of course, from paying for Fifth Avenue offices to satisfying shareholders. How this relates to literary publishing can be a two-edged sword-- as they say, anything that gets people talking about books may not be all bad-- but on the other hand can unrealistically raise demands and expectations for Canadian writers, particularly literary writers, when Canadian literary book sales usually range between 150 to 1000 copies-- not Deal Cult fodder.
And really, these problems and issues are not new. A scan of books about Unwin, Faber, and The Hogarth Press, in England, pre-TV in the 1920s and 1930s, quickly demonstrates that, as you suggest, the balance of art and commerce in publishing has always been a tricky one. And the literary title sales numbers weren't all that different then in England from today in Canada, despite the population difference in England's favour. We really are doing pretty well, comparatively.
3. Are there ways the book marketplace could be tilted more in Canadian publishers' favour? For example, should book stores be required by regulation to devote a conspicuous amount of store-front shelf-space to Canadian work? Should Canada Council funding be significantly increased? Or is cultural nationalism of this sort passe?
While the idea of legislating Canadian titles into bookstores-- frankly all we'd be asking for in such a case is equal treatment with foreign works-- could be appealing, the practice of charging co-op for upfront shelf space isn't going to go away, and it would be a very hard sell; practically speaking, it would likely be an awful burden, both administratively and in terms of suggesting to independent booksellers how to run their businesses. I wouldn't blame them for being more than a bit distressed about such a possibility. I don't think this would be something pursuable beyond support for booksellers and moral suasion.
What might make great sense would be to legislate the purchase of Canadian works by public libraries, who are supported by Canadian public funds, and are in a position to be on the vanguard of proselytizing for Canadian literature.
Canada Council funding, if increased to book publishers, would massively help to soften the lived reality of what is basically a burnout business, to reduce staff stress, and create stability and much stronger presentation and promotion for Canadian writers.
Nationalism may be as important as remembering who we are, and how nationalist we are may depend on how badly we do or don't want to know or remember ourselves. Canada already has hugely open cultural borders: just look at our magazine stands, or our film industry. I try to watch the Genie Awards every year to find out what Canadian films were produced, because with very few exceptions they sure didn't appear on my local Cineplex screen, even here in Toronto.
4. Many major publishers now refuse to accept "unsolicited" work; that is, they will not even consider work unless it is agented. Is this a sound policy from point of view of finding the best new literary voices? Isn't there a chance good writing will be squeezed out? Alternatively, for small presses that do accept unsolicited work, is the problem the majors squeezing the small houses at the distribution/retail marketing end?
I can't speak for major publishers or their internal acquisitions policies, but I do think that really good work will eventually find a home, if a writer improves the work, makes sure it's edited, and perseveres-- because in my experience, there is far more unsolicited work all the time coming through the mail, but really strong work is rare.
I'd differentiate, too, between international major publishers, who may or may not continue to have an interest in producing Canadian literary fiction, depending on head offices, or how the winds may blow financially, and Canadian major publishers with roots in and care about Canadian writing. Canadian publishers actually, despite their occasional fights, are pretty collegial. The problems tend to be funding (large or small and literary, we're competing with US overruns that are very very cheap to produce for the Canadian market, and behemoth promotional machines, also American), desperately thin to nonexistent profit margins, and changes in book retailing.
5. And speaking of agents -- are they too powerful? If so, in what ways? Or are they a largely beneficial and necessary element of contemporary publishing?
We don't deal with agents, so it's hard to say. Speaking as a writer, though, it'd sure be helpful and appreciated to have an agent in my corner if I were negotiating with, say, Penguin.
7. Does Canada have too many publishers? Or too few?
Canada has too few publishers, in my opinion, though new and exciting publishers are starting up all the time, which is encouraging.
I think we sometimes get mixed up because of the influx of American and British books in English. It may seem like an awful lot of new books, but few of them are Canadian.
8. In your opinion, how will new technologies such as the e-book or audio books affect the "form" of the book?
Audio books will continue to be used and useful, but e-books-- it's hard to say-- though on-line access to archive, historical and reference materials as well as specialty journals and the like is growing and seems appropriate. My feeling is that there will be more displacement into video-related and game leisure activity-- and perhaps it'll be a couple of generations before we find out how books as they are now will fare and in what forms.
9. Putting aside the hype, does the Internet provide a real opportunity to publishers? If so, how?
There are useful aspects, for sure. Anyone anywhere with access to an on-line computer with a search engine can find The Mercury Press, for example, and have access to our list, author bios, as well as submissions and ordering information. So Mercury's specialties in mysteries, highly literary works in fiction and poetry, jazz books, are easily trackable; or, people looking, for example, for other titles by a Mercury author, can do so very quickly and easily.
However, the web is a changeable, strange, place. In some ways open and democratic, it's also a flashing neon flood of information. The trick becomes how to find those people who are interested in what's going on in literature, or to help them find Mercury, and for us to understand what's useful to offer. A bit like the old days, really...
10. And what role can traditional, venerable institutions such as libraries and English Departments play in reversing the decline in sales of literary fiction?
Libraries could buy widely and deeply in Canadian literature, and universities could teach more Canlit. More readings, and writers in residence at institutions could really help in both spreading the word, exposing students and people to living writers and ways of writing, and supporting writers with time to work.
11. What projects are you working on now that you are excited about?
New fall books for 2006: Mark Miller's A Certain Respect for Tradition (jazz), David Lee's The Battle of the Five Spot: Ornette Coleman and New York (jazz), AVATAR, poetry and visual art by Sharon Harris, Double Helix, fiction by Jay MillAr and Stephen Cain, Cathedral Women, a novel by Carol Malyon, and two new mysteries, Terry Carroll's Body Contact and Mobashar Qureshi's R.A.C.E.... more information at www.themercurypress.ca. In forthcoming books, working on co-editing The Closets of Time, an anthology of experimental fiction, with Richard Truhlar, is a delight-in-progress.
---------------
Beverley Daurio is the author of three books, the most recent of which is Hell & Other Novels (Coach House/Talon), and has published poetry and short fiction widely (the latter including in the U.S., England, and Australia). In 2005 she participated in the William Gass writing residency at The Atlantic Center for the Arts in Florida. She has edited more than a hundred books (including many shortlisted for or winning awards, including the Governor General's Award for Poetry, as well as awards for page design), several short fiction anthologies, and two collections of literary interviews. She also works as a book reviewer and literary journalist (Globe and Mail, Books in Canada, and many others), some-time freelance editor, creative-writing teacher and multidisciplinary collaborationist, and is the former editor of Poetry Canada Review and Paragraph Magazine, currently publisher of Word Magazine, and, since 1985, publisher and editor-in-chief of The Mercury Press, Toronto.
1. Ever since Sept. 11, there has been a decline in book sales, particularly sales of literary fiction. And since that time, it's been common in publishing circles to explain Sept. 11 as the main "cause" of this phenomenon. Do you agree? Or have other, equally important factors been driving the decline in sales?
It'd be interesting to know the sources of numbers indicating a decline in book sales (in dollar value or numbers of copies?), and if these are U.S., Canadian, or English numbers. What we're finding is that sales of a very few very popular, mainly from the U.S., books (like Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code and similar popular non-fiction titles) are doing fine, and sales of Mercury titles have been steady or increasing-- two ends, perhaps--the largest and the smallest-- of the puzzle to which you're alluding.
I've not really heard the link with September 11 raised in more than passing as a Canadian issue, though others may feel differently. The feeling is more that we're seeing a reduction in the number of independent bookstores, who are excellent at hand-selling and knowing literary titles. Though the internet is helpful in making literary titles more available, we're witnessing a gap between that wide and predictable availability of titles that used to happen with the independents before an increase in web traffic and sales can make up for that. But I'm optimistic.
2. The publishing industry has always been a marriage of art and commerce. But in recent years, the Cult of the Deal has become more influential, with agents demanding larger advances and marketing people paying especially close attention to sales figures. Is the "art" side of the business being squeezed out?
There is enormous pressure on literary presses to publish less challenging and ostensibly more saleable work. These pressures, whether negative (fewer sales, or bookseller reluctance, BookNet) or positive (Department of Canadian Heritage funding through Book Publishing Industry Development Program based directly and solely on sales without regard to quality or cultural significance) are, well, difficult. Literary houses are not idiotic; they are making literary acquisition choices based on different parameters from the hope for straight sales, and if they weren't, they'd be different kinds of organizations. Never mind the fact that, for the most part, NOBODY knows what will sell, in advance (viz the huge bestseller from Cormorant, a small press, Lives of the Saints by Nino Ricci, which had been, I understand, turned down by most of the majors).
One question you raise implicitly, I think: is it worth publishing difficult, challenging, interesting, edge-pushing work, in terms of thought, form, ideas? I think it is, because it extends and affects the ways people think and understand the world, and I think it will continue to happen, even if it tends to be more concentrated in specialty presses (viz. Dalkey, Green Integer, and City Lights in the States).
The Cult of the Deal is an interesting facet of current, mostly American, publishing practice. Those huge multinational publishers have their own pressures, of course, from paying for Fifth Avenue offices to satisfying shareholders. How this relates to literary publishing can be a two-edged sword-- as they say, anything that gets people talking about books may not be all bad-- but on the other hand can unrealistically raise demands and expectations for Canadian writers, particularly literary writers, when Canadian literary book sales usually range between 150 to 1000 copies-- not Deal Cult fodder.
And really, these problems and issues are not new. A scan of books about Unwin, Faber, and The Hogarth Press, in England, pre-TV in the 1920s and 1930s, quickly demonstrates that, as you suggest, the balance of art and commerce in publishing has always been a tricky one. And the literary title sales numbers weren't all that different then in England from today in Canada, despite the population difference in England's favour. We really are doing pretty well, comparatively.
3. Are there ways the book marketplace could be tilted more in Canadian publishers' favour? For example, should book stores be required by regulation to devote a conspicuous amount of store-front shelf-space to Canadian work? Should Canada Council funding be significantly increased? Or is cultural nationalism of this sort passe?
While the idea of legislating Canadian titles into bookstores-- frankly all we'd be asking for in such a case is equal treatment with foreign works-- could be appealing, the practice of charging co-op for upfront shelf space isn't going to go away, and it would be a very hard sell; practically speaking, it would likely be an awful burden, both administratively and in terms of suggesting to independent booksellers how to run their businesses. I wouldn't blame them for being more than a bit distressed about such a possibility. I don't think this would be something pursuable beyond support for booksellers and moral suasion.
What might make great sense would be to legislate the purchase of Canadian works by public libraries, who are supported by Canadian public funds, and are in a position to be on the vanguard of proselytizing for Canadian literature.
Canada Council funding, if increased to book publishers, would massively help to soften the lived reality of what is basically a burnout business, to reduce staff stress, and create stability and much stronger presentation and promotion for Canadian writers.
Nationalism may be as important as remembering who we are, and how nationalist we are may depend on how badly we do or don't want to know or remember ourselves. Canada already has hugely open cultural borders: just look at our magazine stands, or our film industry. I try to watch the Genie Awards every year to find out what Canadian films were produced, because with very few exceptions they sure didn't appear on my local Cineplex screen, even here in Toronto.
4. Many major publishers now refuse to accept "unsolicited" work; that is, they will not even consider work unless it is agented. Is this a sound policy from point of view of finding the best new literary voices? Isn't there a chance good writing will be squeezed out? Alternatively, for small presses that do accept unsolicited work, is the problem the majors squeezing the small houses at the distribution/retail marketing end?
I can't speak for major publishers or their internal acquisitions policies, but I do think that really good work will eventually find a home, if a writer improves the work, makes sure it's edited, and perseveres-- because in my experience, there is far more unsolicited work all the time coming through the mail, but really strong work is rare.
I'd differentiate, too, between international major publishers, who may or may not continue to have an interest in producing Canadian literary fiction, depending on head offices, or how the winds may blow financially, and Canadian major publishers with roots in and care about Canadian writing. Canadian publishers actually, despite their occasional fights, are pretty collegial. The problems tend to be funding (large or small and literary, we're competing with US overruns that are very very cheap to produce for the Canadian market, and behemoth promotional machines, also American), desperately thin to nonexistent profit margins, and changes in book retailing.
5. And speaking of agents -- are they too powerful? If so, in what ways? Or are they a largely beneficial and necessary element of contemporary publishing?
We don't deal with agents, so it's hard to say. Speaking as a writer, though, it'd sure be helpful and appreciated to have an agent in my corner if I were negotiating with, say, Penguin.
7. Does Canada have too many publishers? Or too few?
Canada has too few publishers, in my opinion, though new and exciting publishers are starting up all the time, which is encouraging.
I think we sometimes get mixed up because of the influx of American and British books in English. It may seem like an awful lot of new books, but few of them are Canadian.
8. In your opinion, how will new technologies such as the e-book or audio books affect the "form" of the book?
Audio books will continue to be used and useful, but e-books-- it's hard to say-- though on-line access to archive, historical and reference materials as well as specialty journals and the like is growing and seems appropriate. My feeling is that there will be more displacement into video-related and game leisure activity-- and perhaps it'll be a couple of generations before we find out how books as they are now will fare and in what forms.
9. Putting aside the hype, does the Internet provide a real opportunity to publishers? If so, how?
There are useful aspects, for sure. Anyone anywhere with access to an on-line computer with a search engine can find The Mercury Press, for example, and have access to our list, author bios, as well as submissions and ordering information. So Mercury's specialties in mysteries, highly literary works in fiction and poetry, jazz books, are easily trackable; or, people looking, for example, for other titles by a Mercury author, can do so very quickly and easily.
However, the web is a changeable, strange, place. In some ways open and democratic, it's also a flashing neon flood of information. The trick becomes how to find those people who are interested in what's going on in literature, or to help them find Mercury, and for us to understand what's useful to offer. A bit like the old days, really...
10. And what role can traditional, venerable institutions such as libraries and English Departments play in reversing the decline in sales of literary fiction?
Libraries could buy widely and deeply in Canadian literature, and universities could teach more Canlit. More readings, and writers in residence at institutions could really help in both spreading the word, exposing students and people to living writers and ways of writing, and supporting writers with time to work.
11. What projects are you working on now that you are excited about?
New fall books for 2006: Mark Miller's A Certain Respect for Tradition (jazz), David Lee's The Battle of the Five Spot: Ornette Coleman and New York (jazz), AVATAR, poetry and visual art by Sharon Harris, Double Helix, fiction by Jay MillAr and Stephen Cain, Cathedral Women, a novel by Carol Malyon, and two new mysteries, Terry Carroll's Body Contact and Mobashar Qureshi's R.A.C.E.... more information at www.themercurypress.ca. In forthcoming books, working on co-editing The Closets of Time, an anthology of experimental fiction, with Richard Truhlar, is a delight-in-progress.
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Beverley Daurio is the author of three books, the most recent of which is Hell & Other Novels (Coach House/Talon), and has published poetry and short fiction widely (the latter including in the U.S., England, and Australia). In 2005 she participated in the William Gass writing residency at The Atlantic Center for the Arts in Florida. She has edited more than a hundred books (including many shortlisted for or winning awards, including the Governor General's Award for Poetry, as well as awards for page design), several short fiction anthologies, and two collections of literary interviews. She also works as a book reviewer and literary journalist (Globe and Mail, Books in Canada, and many others), some-time freelance editor, creative-writing teacher and multidisciplinary collaborationist, and is the former editor of Poetry Canada Review and Paragraph Magazine, currently publisher of Word Magazine, and, since 1985, publisher and editor-in-chief of The Mercury Press, Toronto.
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