Daily affirmations of a word mercenary
Columbia Publishing Course Category
Summer of 2001, at the recommendation of some guy I met at Burning Man, I attended the Columbia Publishing Course, formerly known as the Radcliffe Publishing Course. The nation’s preeminant book and magazine publishing program, CPC is part of the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism.
Now, before you go getting all excited, lemme say this: CPC didn’t help me find a job. Not even one interview. The economy was pretty bad summer of 2001, and that was BEFORE 9/11. That said, I had some interesting experiences, met some amazing people, and learned a lot about what I wanted to do with my career … which is be a writer, not a magazine editor.
I put this category together because I noticed a lot of people coming to my site from Google searches for the course. I assume most of these searchers are students considering application to CPC. Below, you can read about my experience. To read it in chronological order, you’ll need to start at the bottom.
Keep in mind that I was not a traditional CPC student (several years out of college, already working for an alternative publication, and with blue dreadlocks). My experience was not necessarily the typical one. Feel free to email me if you have any questions.
Final Book Seminar
6
Jul
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
This morning marked our last book seminar, and in a couple hours we will begin our book workshop. We’ve heard many stories about how intense the workshop is. I can’t say that I quite comprehend what to anticipate. We’re broken into mock publishing houses and then have to publish mock books. We’re each assigned a position (marketing, editing, subsidiary rights, etc) and apparently there’s a lot of all nighters involved. All nighters are not my preferred academic technique. No school work has ever been worth sacrificing sleep for, and I’d much rather just budget my time well so that I can go to bed at a reasonable hour rather than procrastinate.
Given that I don’t believe that L.H. is going to find me the jobs I want, I’ve started my own job hunt. I’m lurking on MediaBistro.com, poking around the staff pages of magazines, and trawling Monster.com. Nothing yet. Waiting. Trying to be patient.
This is the theme for the summer, so while I apologize…get used to it.
Why do all the jobs I want have to be in the city where it’s so hard to live? I’ve had friends tell me “Oh you HAVE to stay in NYC! That’s where all the writers are,” as if that is a good reason to stay. Do I really want to join the army of broke struggling writers, fighting their way towards cynicism and success? Like it’s some sort of requisite “character building”?
I personally just can’t believe that the world needs another semi-hip 20something New York writer producing edgy narrative nonfiction while paying $900 to live in someone’s dining room and eating roasted mice for dinner. That market is saturated. Can’t you picture the job interview with the universe?
“Oh, hmm,” the universe would say, “I see looking at your resume that you pride yourself on your witty writing style and frank narratives. Interesting. Ever heard of Megan Daum? Oh, I see you also have some editorial skills and an affinity for bitching about apostrophes. Great, great. Looks like you’ve got a diverse family background and weird hair. Right. Yeah, I’ve never seen that before.” (You didn’t know the universe could be a sarcastic punkass? the universe has spent time in Manhattan, too.)
“Well, we’ve got a lot of those positions, but they’re all filled right now. If you’d like to intern for a while, we can’t pay you,” the universe will continue, “But if you prove yourself (and someone else either dies or burns out, leaving their position open) we can offer you $18k/year to start. …What’s that? No, we don’t offer relocation assistance. You’ll need to find your own roach-infested efficiency in Brooklyn. I hear the going rate is roughly $1k/month?”
My father gave me a copy of the Tao te Ching, and I’m trying to remind myself that the harder I fight this decision, struggling through it and making pro/con color-coded flow charts, the less likely I am to find the right choice for me. The best decisions of my life have always been instinctual and natural. I have to resist the urge to muscle my way through this one.
In other words, I can’t MAKE this decision. It has to make me.
Letchy Photos!
4
Jul
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
Yesterday was hilarious. Our final lecture of the day was an alum who was talking to us about the Independent Press. Unfortunately, we were all distracted by the rampant, confirmed rumors that he’s taken a CPC student home every year after taking the class out for drinks. Terms like “notorious letch” were tossed around. Apparently last years chosen student actually came to the presentation.
After his brief evening presentation, he took us all out for drinks at the West End. I got out my camera and started taking pictures, and several pools were started to see who would go home with the letch.
Interestingly, the most letcherous moment I witnessed was our afternoon presenter, who had already been noted for moving closer and closer to female students who wanted to chat with him that afternoon. Witnessing the scene was quite frightening, poor little Jen backed against a table, big tall creepy literary agent moving closer and closer. Seconds before the photo was taken, he put both his hands on her shoulders and leaned in really close to say something. Seconds AFTER the photo was taken, we sent Nikki in to provide enough distraction for Jen to run off screaming. It was sort of horrific, but we took care of the situation. Never let it be said that women don’t watch out for eachother.
Look at all the photos here.
Fooked!
1
Jul
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
Geoff Kloske, editor of David Sedaris and Dave Eggers, came and spoke to us on Friday. He was a self-professed mumbler, had a sharp, dry wit, and took great joy in telling us why the book ideas we’d come up with for an assignment weren’t up to par.
“Why, here’s a quote from one of your proposals,” he mumbled. “‘Never before has a book about the people who murder pregnant women and steal their babies been published.’ ‘Well, thank GOD,’ I thought.” He looked like a younger Tim Robbins, but with longer hair. Several young editorial assistants-to-be swooned.
Geoff also told us about how he’s been developing a book version of fuckedcompany.com. He was musing about some of the editorial challenges that come about from publishing a book called FUCKED COMPANY.
“It’s got FUCKED in the cover, so Wal-mart isn’t going to take it. Barnes & Noble isn’t going to take it. It’s a real challenge, doing publicity for this book. I mean, how do you get fucked out there?”
Several young editorial assistants-to-be had suggestions for him.
Rooftop
1
Jul
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
After five 12 hour days of class, many of us hit a wall Friday night. Classmates were sobbing on the phone with their mothers, classmates were laying in bed wondering what the hell they’re doing here, classmates were passing out cold at 10pm despite invitations to go out on the town. Sheer exhaustion on a group level. I was right in tow with everyone else, having realized that if I want to go to Los Angeles to work, I am going to be 100% on my own. Unless I can find some of my own good leads there, it makes much more sense for me to stay in New York City since not only are 90% of the nation’s magazine published here, but this is where all my connections are being established. Naturally, a few tears were shed at the prospect of leaving the Left Coast on a more long term basis.
Luckily for all of us who hit the wall, we only had one seminar yesterday (Jim Wilcox, a novelist, spoke to us), and then the rest of the day off. After brunch in the village with Terra, and a nice long nap, I met my old Seattle pal Courtney Reimer at Union Square. It was good to see an old Seattleite. We had dinner at a place called Republic, which had good asian food and communal seating, but needed a some sound absorbers on the ceiling–imagine three hundred people shouting in a huge bathroom. Loud.
Afterward, Courtney took me to a rooftop party. The weather had been incredibly hot and humid all day (I’m getting used to it, although I’m also loving the A/C), and so we got quite an electric skychurch show on the rooftop: streaks of lightening flashed around the horizon as we drank bud lights and admired the metal work on the roof (crafted by a nice man named Linus). It was still warm, and the drops of rain weren’t bothersome. I spent some time looking down over the street and feeling eight million people around me. It’s sort of comfortable, like an enormous blanket of distraction you can wrap around you to keep you warm from the lonliness and isolation of being human.
Clever
29
Jun
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
At the Sherry Hour we had on Wednesday, I was chatting with a classmate about the terrible book I had to read and how it turned out to be edited by Gerry Howard, who edited both Fight Club and Trainspotting. My classmate, unlike me, was quite impressed, and I pointed Gerry out to him. Then, in typical cocktail behavior, we parted ways to go poke at humus, refill our plastic cups with white wine, and try to banter wittily while shifting nervously from foot to foot.
A few minutes later, I ended up uncomfortably chatting with Gerry Howard himself, half assedly voicing my appreciation for his good attitude when faced with a room full of students who hated his latest project. Suddenly, one of the other guest editors came rushing over with the classmate with whome I’d just been talking.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the editor aplogized breathlessly, and then turned to Gerry Howard and said “Gerry, I was just talking to this young man about his favorite authors and when he mentioned Irvine Welsh and Chuck Palahniuk, I simply knew I had to come introduce him to you!”
I glanced at my classmate, he glanced at me, and there was an acknowlegement. “That was clever,” I thought. What a demonstration of highly calculated, precise, and effective shmoozing. Not my style (see referrence below to gushy thank you letter written on bunny stationary for an idea of my “techniques”), but pretty dang clever. An introduction from me wouldn’t have meant much, but an enthusiastic seemingly-coincidental introduction via one of Gerry’s peers? Clever. Very clever.
Arthur Levine
28
Jun
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
This morning we had the most fantastic speaker yet here at the Columbia Publishing Course. Arthur Levine, a 1984 graduate of the then-Radcliffe Publishing Course, is now the esteemed publisher of both Harry Potter and Philip Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” trilogy that Dre and I read in January. He also happened to be the one of the most personable, delightful, engaging public speakers I’ve ever seen.
During the question and answer period, he fielded all sorts of queries, including a question about his changing the title of the first Harry Potter book from the British Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone to the “Americanized” Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone. The questions was posed by a classmate of mine who seemed none to pleased about the switch.
“Would you have suggested C.S. Lewis change the title of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, too?” she said incredulously.
“You know, I might have,” Arthur responded. “I would have sat down and said ‘Hey, C.S. [class busts up laughing], let’s talk about this. In America a wardrobe is the clothes in your closet–not the closet itself.’ And if he’d been ok with changing it, I would have.” He also mentioned that the French translation of the book was Harry Potter and The Magic School, “And they didn’t even ASK Jo about that.”
Another classmate brought up the whole Nancy Stouffer allegation. “Nancy Stouffer–who has changed her name, by the way, to N.L. Stouffer–is a crazy woman,” Arthur sighed. “She says she met me in the late ’70s and told me about her Harry Potter idea. Yeah, she met me in the late ’70s when I was a high powered high school student.”
“She also claims to have spent time with me and my wife,” he continued. “Listen people: I’m gay, ok? The woman is crazy, but very effective at manipulating the media.”
Arthur Levine, I love you. Thanks for not only keeping a sleepy 100 students awake, but getting us all very excited, and reminding me why I love children’s literature. After the seminar, I didn’t want to thank him…I wanted a huge group hug! I resisted my urge for unprofessional public displays of affection, however, and instead sulked back to my dorm room to write him gushy thank you letter on my bunny stationary. I know–I’m a goob. I can’t help it! The man was wonderfully wacky, and his success reassured me that being wacky and being in corporate publishing can go hand in hand. As I said in my letter to him, “surrounded by khaki and polite smiles,” that was a refreshing reminder.
Finally: Photos!
27
Jun
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
I have my computer, my monitor ala John Hiler, and now my internet–I’m a fully functional human being again. Phew. This also means that I can finally get my photos from the coast last week up, as well as pics from Columbia! Click below to go straight to a little slideshow:
Columbia Publishing Course: a shitty bunch of photos–but better ones coming soon! This at least gives you a rough idea of my first few days here. Unfortunately, I did not get any shots of my arrival night, but you can see my dorm, the “Pulitzer Room” where we have lectures, and some campus shots.
The Subject Steve
27
Jun
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
One of my assignments here at the Columbia Publishing Course was to read an unpublished book and write what’s called a “Reader’s Report.” This is what a book editor does when they read a book they’re considering publishing. You give a brief synopsis, then discuss whether you liked it, how you’d edit it, and marketing or sales possibilities.
The book I was assigned was called The Subject Steve. It featured graphic referrences to |In((est (that word is scrambled so as to avoid my li’l page popping up in nasty google searches), best||al||ty, “water sports,” drug use, and was one of those rambling cynical satires that leads nowhere and features dead-end dialogue and characters you couldn’t be fucked to care about (even wacky characters like “disillusioned daughter,” “horny cripple,” and “two dads who fight over lawn mowers before jacking eachother off in their garage.”)
My Reader’s Report referred to the book as (and I quote–as did the editor), “abhorrent.” All the “dangerous” referrences felt transparently intended to evoke outrage from the reader, and as such felt simply boring. The book, in a word, sucked. I, in two words, hated it.
Today the twelve of us who had been assigned to read “The Subject Steve” got to meet with the editor, Gerry Howard, to discuss the novel and our reports. Gerry Howard, it turns out, was the editor of Fight Club. Oh. Really. And Trainspotting. Oh. Really. And The Subject Steve was written by hot up ‘n’ coming writer Sam Lipsyte and is being published this fall. Oh. Really.
I was expecting something like this (since the author’s name was conspicuously absent from the book cover, I figured it was written by someone I ought to know in that literary fiction sort of way), but it was interesting, none the less, to hear this editor defend his book. Of the twelve of us in the room, 10 of us hated the book, and 11 of us were women. Gerry noted the discrepancy when he walked in, and used it as his primary defense against our opinions of the novel.
“This clearly isn’t the demographic the book is aimed at,” Gerry said. “No offense, but this is not a book I would expect women to like.”
I tried to defend my distaste of the book (and my gender) by saying that I like outrageous topics–I like reading about sex, I like reading about drug use, I like reading black humor. But, regardless, I despised a book for which the author received a “mid-five figure” advance. Welcome to publishing.
Now it’s time for Sherry Hour. No, I’m not kidding.
Yesterday I kicked some ass.
27
Jun
2001
In: Columbia Publishing Course
Yesterday I kicked some ass.
After our afternoon session, I headed downtown on the subway (ooh!) to meet John Hiler ( the head honcho over at xanga.com) who had offered to loan me a 15″ monitor. I hauled that monitor four blocks to the subway station (dripping sweat and turning down offers for help the whole way), shoved me and my big box’s way onto the subway, rode home, hauled the box up to my room, and plugged it in. SWEET SUCCESS! Thanks to John Hiler for helping me out.
Now all I need is my ethernet cord and I’ll be set.
Last night a dozen or so of us got beers and sat in the warm evening air of our dorm stoop drinking and talking. Dorm life. Hilarious!
Last night I also saw lightening bugs for the first time in my life. I laughed out loud. And laughed and laughed.
Final Book Seminar
6 Jul 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseThis morning marked our last book seminar, and in a couple hours we will begin our book workshop. We’ve heard many stories about how intense the workshop is. I can’t say that I quite comprehend what to anticipate. We’re broken into mock publishing houses and then have to publish mock books. We’re each assigned a position (marketing, editing, subsidiary rights, etc) and apparently there’s a lot of all nighters involved. All nighters are not my preferred academic technique. No school work has ever been worth sacrificing sleep for, and I’d much rather just budget my time well so that I can go to bed at a reasonable hour rather than procrastinate.
Given that I don’t believe that L.H. is going to find me the jobs I want, I’ve started my own job hunt. I’m lurking on MediaBistro.com, poking around the staff pages of magazines, and trawling Monster.com. Nothing yet. Waiting. Trying to be patient.
This is the theme for the summer, so while I apologize…get used to it.
Why do all the jobs I want have to be in the city where it’s so hard to live? I’ve had friends tell me “Oh you HAVE to stay in NYC! That’s where all the writers are,” as if that is a good reason to stay. Do I really want to join the army of broke struggling writers, fighting their way towards cynicism and success? Like it’s some sort of requisite “character building”?
I personally just can’t believe that the world needs another semi-hip 20something New York writer producing edgy narrative nonfiction while paying $900 to live in someone’s dining room and eating roasted mice for dinner. That market is saturated. Can’t you picture the job interview with the universe?
“Oh, hmm,” the universe would say, “I see looking at your resume that you pride yourself on your witty writing style and frank narratives. Interesting. Ever heard of Megan Daum? Oh, I see you also have some editorial skills and an affinity for bitching about apostrophes. Great, great. Looks like you’ve got a diverse family background and weird hair. Right. Yeah, I’ve never seen that before.” (You didn’t know the universe could be a sarcastic punkass? the universe has spent time in Manhattan, too.)
“Well, we’ve got a lot of those positions, but they’re all filled right now. If you’d like to intern for a while, we can’t pay you,” the universe will continue, “But if you prove yourself (and someone else either dies or burns out, leaving their position open) we can offer you $18k/year to start. …What’s that? No, we don’t offer relocation assistance. You’ll need to find your own roach-infested efficiency in Brooklyn. I hear the going rate is roughly $1k/month?”
My father gave me a copy of the Tao te Ching, and I’m trying to remind myself that the harder I fight this decision, struggling through it and making pro/con color-coded flow charts, the less likely I am to find the right choice for me. The best decisions of my life have always been instinctual and natural. I have to resist the urge to muscle my way through this one.
In other words, I can’t MAKE this decision. It has to make me.
Letchy Photos!
4 Jul 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseYesterday was hilarious. Our final lecture of the day was an alum who was talking to us about the Independent Press. Unfortunately, we were all distracted by the rampant, confirmed rumors that he’s taken a CPC student home every year after taking the class out for drinks. Terms like “notorious letch” were tossed around. Apparently last years chosen student actually came to the presentation.
After his brief evening presentation, he took us all out for drinks at the West End. I got out my camera and started taking pictures, and several pools were started to see who would go home with the letch.
Interestingly, the most letcherous moment I witnessed was our afternoon presenter, who had already been noted for moving closer and closer to female students who wanted to chat with him that afternoon. Witnessing the scene was quite frightening, poor little Jen backed against a table, big tall creepy literary agent moving closer and closer. Seconds before the photo was taken, he put both his hands on her shoulders and leaned in really close to say something. Seconds AFTER the photo was taken, we sent Nikki in to provide enough distraction for Jen to run off screaming. It was sort of horrific, but we took care of the situation. Never let it be said that women don’t watch out for eachother.
Look at all the photos here.
Fooked!
1 Jul 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseGeoff Kloske, editor of David Sedaris and Dave Eggers, came and spoke to us on Friday. He was a self-professed mumbler, had a sharp, dry wit, and took great joy in telling us why the book ideas we’d come up with for an assignment weren’t up to par.
“Why, here’s a quote from one of your proposals,” he mumbled. “‘Never before has a book about the people who murder pregnant women and steal their babies been published.’ ‘Well, thank GOD,’ I thought.” He looked like a younger Tim Robbins, but with longer hair. Several young editorial assistants-to-be swooned.
Geoff also told us about how he’s been developing a book version of fuckedcompany.com. He was musing about some of the editorial challenges that come about from publishing a book called FUCKED COMPANY.
“It’s got FUCKED in the cover, so Wal-mart isn’t going to take it. Barnes & Noble isn’t going to take it. It’s a real challenge, doing publicity for this book. I mean, how do you get fucked out there?”
Several young editorial assistants-to-be had suggestions for him.
Rooftop
1 Jul 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseAfter five 12 hour days of class, many of us hit a wall Friday night. Classmates were sobbing on the phone with their mothers, classmates were laying in bed wondering what the hell they’re doing here, classmates were passing out cold at 10pm despite invitations to go out on the town. Sheer exhaustion on a group level. I was right in tow with everyone else, having realized that if I want to go to Los Angeles to work, I am going to be 100% on my own. Unless I can find some of my own good leads there, it makes much more sense for me to stay in New York City since not only are 90% of the nation’s magazine published here, but this is where all my connections are being established. Naturally, a few tears were shed at the prospect of leaving the Left Coast on a more long term basis.
Luckily for all of us who hit the wall, we only had one seminar yesterday (Jim Wilcox, a novelist, spoke to us), and then the rest of the day off. After brunch in the village with Terra, and a nice long nap, I met my old Seattle pal Courtney Reimer at Union Square. It was good to see an old Seattleite. We had dinner at a place called Republic, which had good asian food and communal seating, but needed a some sound absorbers on the ceiling–imagine three hundred people shouting in a huge bathroom. Loud.
Afterward, Courtney took me to a rooftop party. The weather had been incredibly hot and humid all day (I’m getting used to it, although I’m also loving the A/C), and so we got quite an electric skychurch show on the rooftop: streaks of lightening flashed around the horizon as we drank bud lights and admired the metal work on the roof (crafted by a nice man named Linus). It was still warm, and the drops of rain weren’t bothersome. I spent some time looking down over the street and feeling eight million people around me. It’s sort of comfortable, like an enormous blanket of distraction you can wrap around you to keep you warm from the lonliness and isolation of being human.
Clever
29 Jun 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseAt the Sherry Hour we had on Wednesday, I was chatting with a classmate about the terrible book I had to read and how it turned out to be edited by Gerry Howard, who edited both Fight Club and Trainspotting. My classmate, unlike me, was quite impressed, and I pointed Gerry out to him. Then, in typical cocktail behavior, we parted ways to go poke at humus, refill our plastic cups with white wine, and try to banter wittily while shifting nervously from foot to foot.
A few minutes later, I ended up uncomfortably chatting with Gerry Howard himself, half assedly voicing my appreciation for his good attitude when faced with a room full of students who hated his latest project. Suddenly, one of the other guest editors came rushing over with the classmate with whome I’d just been talking.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the editor aplogized breathlessly, and then turned to Gerry Howard and said “Gerry, I was just talking to this young man about his favorite authors and when he mentioned Irvine Welsh and Chuck Palahniuk, I simply knew I had to come introduce him to you!”
I glanced at my classmate, he glanced at me, and there was an acknowlegement. “That was clever,” I thought. What a demonstration of highly calculated, precise, and effective shmoozing. Not my style (see referrence below to gushy thank you letter written on bunny stationary for an idea of my “techniques”), but pretty dang clever. An introduction from me wouldn’t have meant much, but an enthusiastic seemingly-coincidental introduction via one of Gerry’s peers? Clever. Very clever.
Arthur Levine
28 Jun 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseThis morning we had the most fantastic speaker yet here at the Columbia Publishing Course. Arthur Levine, a 1984 graduate of the then-Radcliffe Publishing Course, is now the esteemed publisher of both Harry Potter and Philip Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” trilogy that Dre and I read in January. He also happened to be the one of the most personable, delightful, engaging public speakers I’ve ever seen.
During the question and answer period, he fielded all sorts of queries, including a question about his changing the title of the first Harry Potter book from the British Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone to the “Americanized” Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone. The questions was posed by a classmate of mine who seemed none to pleased about the switch.
“Would you have suggested C.S. Lewis change the title of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, too?” she said incredulously.
“You know, I might have,” Arthur responded. “I would have sat down and said ‘Hey, C.S. [class busts up laughing], let’s talk about this. In America a wardrobe is the clothes in your closet–not the closet itself.’ And if he’d been ok with changing it, I would have.” He also mentioned that the French translation of the book was Harry Potter and The Magic School, “And they didn’t even ASK Jo about that.”
Another classmate brought up the whole Nancy Stouffer allegation. “Nancy Stouffer–who has changed her name, by the way, to N.L. Stouffer–is a crazy woman,” Arthur sighed. “She says she met me in the late ’70s and told me about her Harry Potter idea. Yeah, she met me in the late ’70s when I was a high powered high school student.”
“She also claims to have spent time with me and my wife,” he continued. “Listen people: I’m gay, ok? The woman is crazy, but very effective at manipulating the media.”
Arthur Levine, I love you. Thanks for not only keeping a sleepy 100 students awake, but getting us all very excited, and reminding me why I love children’s literature. After the seminar, I didn’t want to thank him…I wanted a huge group hug! I resisted my urge for unprofessional public displays of affection, however, and instead sulked back to my dorm room to write him gushy thank you letter on my bunny stationary. I know–I’m a goob. I can’t help it! The man was wonderfully wacky, and his success reassured me that being wacky and being in corporate publishing can go hand in hand. As I said in my letter to him, “surrounded by khaki and polite smiles,” that was a refreshing reminder.
Finally: Photos!
27 Jun 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseI have my computer, my monitor ala John Hiler, and now my internet–I’m a fully functional human being again. Phew. This also means that I can finally get my photos from the coast last week up, as well as pics from Columbia! Click below to go straight to a little slideshow:
Columbia Publishing Course: a shitty bunch of photos–but better ones coming soon! This at least gives you a rough idea of my first few days here. Unfortunately, I did not get any shots of my arrival night, but you can see my dorm, the “Pulitzer Room” where we have lectures, and some campus shots.
The Subject Steve
27 Jun 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseOne of my assignments here at the Columbia Publishing Course was to read an unpublished book and write what’s called a “Reader’s Report.” This is what a book editor does when they read a book they’re considering publishing. You give a brief synopsis, then discuss whether you liked it, how you’d edit it, and marketing or sales possibilities.
The book I was assigned was called The Subject Steve. It featured graphic referrences to |In((est (that word is scrambled so as to avoid my li’l page popping up in nasty google searches), best||al||ty, “water sports,” drug use, and was one of those rambling cynical satires that leads nowhere and features dead-end dialogue and characters you couldn’t be fucked to care about (even wacky characters like “disillusioned daughter,” “horny cripple,” and “two dads who fight over lawn mowers before jacking eachother off in their garage.”)
My Reader’s Report referred to the book as (and I quote–as did the editor), “abhorrent.” All the “dangerous” referrences felt transparently intended to evoke outrage from the reader, and as such felt simply boring. The book, in a word, sucked. I, in two words, hated it.
Today the twelve of us who had been assigned to read “The Subject Steve” got to meet with the editor, Gerry Howard, to discuss the novel and our reports. Gerry Howard, it turns out, was the editor of Fight Club. Oh. Really. And Trainspotting. Oh. Really. And The Subject Steve was written by hot up ‘n’ coming writer Sam Lipsyte and is being published this fall. Oh. Really.
I was expecting something like this (since the author’s name was conspicuously absent from the book cover, I figured it was written by someone I ought to know in that literary fiction sort of way), but it was interesting, none the less, to hear this editor defend his book. Of the twelve of us in the room, 10 of us hated the book, and 11 of us were women. Gerry noted the discrepancy when he walked in, and used it as his primary defense against our opinions of the novel.
“This clearly isn’t the demographic the book is aimed at,” Gerry said. “No offense, but this is not a book I would expect women to like.”
I tried to defend my distaste of the book (and my gender) by saying that I like outrageous topics–I like reading about sex, I like reading about drug use, I like reading black humor. But, regardless, I despised a book for which the author received a “mid-five figure” advance. Welcome to publishing.
Now it’s time for Sherry Hour. No, I’m not kidding.
Yesterday I kicked some ass.
27 Jun 2001 In: Columbia Publishing CourseYesterday I kicked some ass.
After our afternoon session, I headed downtown on the subway (ooh!) to meet John Hiler ( the head honcho over at xanga.com) who had offered to loan me a 15″ monitor. I hauled that monitor four blocks to the subway station (dripping sweat and turning down offers for help the whole way), shoved me and my big box’s way onto the subway, rode home, hauled the box up to my room, and plugged it in. SWEET SUCCESS! Thanks to John Hiler for helping me out.
Now all I need is my ethernet cord and I’ll be set.
Last night a dozen or so of us got beers and sat in the warm evening air of our dorm stoop drinking and talking. Dorm life. Hilarious!
Last night I also saw lightening bugs for the first time in my life. I laughed out loud. And laughed and laughed.
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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