Publishing seasons remind me a little of school semesters.
I’ve just spent five months selling the Fall 2012 Harvard, MIT and Yale lists, and
though it's been fun, I’m anxious for some fresh faces.
I was talking with a teacher friend of mine over the summer who said she was looking forward to a new group of students in the fall. She talked about how thirty (make that forty, thanks Gov. Walker!) anonymous little faces on day one would be transformed into established personalities by December.
I was talking with a teacher friend of mine over the summer who said she was looking forward to a new group of students in the fall. She talked about how thirty (make that forty, thanks Gov. Walker!) anonymous little faces on day one would be transformed into established personalities by December.
Experienced teachers can make pretty good initial predictions on how students will perform. But there are always wrong hunches: the difficult child who ends up being a star;
the striver who comes with great reviews but ultimately disappoints; and the
come from nowhere surprise who quietly sits in the back of the class and never
raises a hand but turns in a stellar final project.
By the end of the semester, my teacher friend misses a few
of her charges, is glad to be rid of others, and in general is ready to
get on with the new batch.
This is how I feel about selling seasonal lists of
books. After our sales conferences in
April, where books are presented to the reps, I try to make friends with the new
titles we’ve heard about. I read excerpts, study marketing notes, review editor’s presentations, and trade impressions with my colleagues.
But as perhaps with students, you never really know what the books will be like until you’ve spent a few months in the world with them. Many titles perform as expected, but every season includes sure winners that fail to ignite, and duds that somehow catch fire. You never really know how a book will do until the booksellers have a chance to weigh in.
But as perhaps with students, you never really know what the books will be like until you’ve spent a few months in the world with them. Many titles perform as expected, but every season includes sure winners that fail to ignite, and duds that somehow catch fire. You never really know how a book will do until the booksellers have a chance to weigh in.
Book reps are paid to represent. That means doing our best to give a fair shot
to each of the books on the lists, and finding the sometimes elusive potential
sales channels that best match each title.
But we’re also humans who love the product we sell. Before I worked for Harvard, MIT and Yale I bought lots of their books for my personal library. Playing favorites in the classroom is probably not a good idea, but selling our lists is not a zero-sum game. To love one book is not to undercut another.
Do sales reps in other professions play
favorites among their wares? Maybe the
drug reps. Each season, there are lots of books I enjoyed
selling, or relished talking about with booksellers. But beyond that, there are particular titles that I really felt passionate about. These are the books that I’d buy if I didn’t
already have access to them. (Yes, another
perk. But after flogging a title all
season, getting a finished copy seems like a just reward.)
So for what it’s worth, a recap of some personal picks from
the fall Yale, MIT and Harvard lists.
How could you not
want to know what this incredible writer has to say about post-colonial Africa and the unintended consequences of western do-gooderism?
I’m a sucker for biographies of old lefties, and the re-discovery- discovery, really-
of this fierce woman is a revelation. Barbara
Ransby is an accomplished scholar and a wonderful writer.
Almost a travel diary in the vein of Sebald, this European
masterpiece finally gets an English translation. As a bonus, the production values and design
of the Margellos World Republic of Letters series is so sumptuous I’d
definitely be collecting them all as a civilian.
First English translation of a zany classic of Yiddish
fiction. The fact that Stalin had him shot makes it poignant. Set in Minsk, where I once
spent a night! Long story.
An artist who was obsessed with the everyday, an intriguing man
and a beautiful book.
Carrie Mae Weems:Three Decades of Photography (Yale)
Mesmerizing images of African-American life by an
accomplished, under-appreciated artist.
Maynard L. Parker: Modern Photography and the American Dream/ ed. Jennifer A. Watts (Yale)
House photography from middle class magazines like Sunset and Better Homes and Gardens with a mid-century modern, southern
California vibe. This stuff is like
candy.
How could you resist the subtitle alone? A potter, an anti-colonial crusader, a
dissenter. A fascinating biography, three
lives in one.
Clever contemporary Canadian artists presented in a sort of
travel guide format, with smart literary introductions. So much to like here.
A confounding but oddly appealing contemporary French
artist. One of his works- “A Journey
That Wasn’t”- documents an attempt to find a rare albino penguin in Antarctica,
and re-stages it as a musical on the Central Park ice rink.
These Documents of Contemporary Art books would be my
downfall if I had to buy them all. The
series is irresistible in every way.
Even aside from the allure of a handle like “Bifo,” I am drawn to any and
all critiques of the insane austerity hallucination to which we’re being
subjected. These minimalist
Interventions books are swell. But I
might be their target audience and I wonder if there are enough of me.
One of the great Zone titles of recent vintage, this clever,
McSweenysesque writer asks and answers the question “Why is there no Norton Anthology of Paperwork?”
Yes, that’s the title, but it’s OK to call it Ten Print. It’s a microhistory and deep reading of one iconic
line of computer code. And it asks what it meant
for a computer to create a maze in 1982.
Believe it or not, I think that sounds pretty compelling.
Though I’m afraid I don’t live up to the author’s criteria,
I love his passionate argument that there’s more to gay rights than marriage
and military.
Two incredible lives from a time when anarchism was
synonymous with social justice.
A chronicle of Wilde’s 15,000 mile speaking tour across the
continent, as told by an excellent British writer.
Alright, I’d be on the fence about actually buying it. I’d pick it up and put it down in several
bookstores before finally succumbing.
City biographies are one of my weaknesses and Harvard hasn’t done a
bad one.
Some of the most beautiful book-making I’ve seen, and such a
treat to be associated with these. I’d
absolutely collect them all.
I wouldn’t normally be drawn to a book like this but given
the mess we’re in, it wouldn’t hurt to know something about where hedge funds
came from. It’s surprising to learn that
protecting trans-Atlantic shipments in 1800 from the risk of loss somehow grew into the
contemporary financial service industry.
It’s a juicy, big idea book.
I’ve been haunted by the idea of Cold War ballistic missles
scattered on farms throughout the Plains since seeing “The Day After.” Remember when all the missiles in farmyards started launching? This is the complicated and surprising back
story. Which isn’t over.
True, I might wait for paperback. But the more I dip into this survey of loneliness
in American fiction, the more it calls out.
And the cover image is gorgeous.
And I do still buy books (and CD’s!) for the cover.
It’s mainly based on archival research but this is a superb
study of how the waves of immigration have shaped the 20th century urban
working class. Bald is a great writer and an interesting documentary
filmmaker.
