Years ago, when I was working at Powell’s, a first-time author called me on the phone. We’d never spoken, but I knew about her new book because in a previous career she’d recorded several indie records that made it big in my hometown. I’d recognized her name in the publisher’s catalog.
She was freaking out.
A lifetime of making music had taught her that the most grueling work, and often the most gratifying, begins when your album comes out. After as few as one or two weeks in the studio, a band might spend a year or more on tour, night after night introducing new material to fans and strangers.
The musician-turned-author explained that she was calling me because her book had been in stores less than a month; and now, suddenly, her publisher revealed that they would no longer actively promote it. She wanted to know, Could she blog on our website? Could she do anything? And did I have any idea what she might have done to make them drop her so quickly? For much of our conversation, she was on the verge of tears.
Fast-forward to October 2010. Nearly two hundred authors descended on Portland for the annual Wordstock Festival. It seemed as good a time as any to take the pulse of the industry, so we asked a number of them, “If you could change one thing about the publishing process…”
Joanna Smith Rakoff was at Wordstock to read from the paperback edition of her excellent debut, A Fortunate Age. Her response was one of several that led to me relating the story of that uncomfortable phone call. [click to comment]
Wordstock is a year-round Oregon nonprofit that works to promote writing in the classroom. And once a year, the 