Drought ~ Elizabeth Rose

February 18, 2008

sub

(the bold
young boy
hot and thirsting
gives water to the
sun-crisp soldier
and returns to
his mother,
sated)

vert.

~~~~~

Bio – Elizabeth Rose Murray has a regular haiku slot on dogmatika, fiction on savage manners and 3am, flash fiction on six sentences plus poetry in The Ranfurly Review, DeComposed and The Beat. She also writes poetry critique and getting published blogs and is writing a novel. She lives in the south of Spain.

Our savage online journal seeks to examine the contemporary offbeat scene from the offbeat perspective, to prompt and engage in topical offbeat debates and to critically reflect the practice of the mainstream book scene.

If you leave out your bio or intro blurb then carry on walking – If you have no interest in the offbeat scene then keep on walking – put some thought into your work – multi-submissons are allowed but be honest and tell us! If you don’t we’ll find out anyway – send your work over to: svg_manners@yahoo.co.uk

ta ta

February 11, 2008

closed for new business

Savage Manners – closed for any new submissions.

from:http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/books/2007/08/publishing_never_had_a_golden.html

So, today’s book industry is focused on profit margins and it’s tough for authors to get themselves in print. What’s new?

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/arts/author/louise_tucker/profile.html

As an editor who has worked in corporate publishing for six years, and freelanced as a writer and editor for many more, I’m always fascinated by the idea that “big” publishing has no time for writers, or readers. For what it’s worth, here’s a view from the inside. I’m not sure I can live up to cynicalsteve’s expectations of starting “a spicy thread” but I’ll do my best …

I work in one of the Big Four; we employ more than 500 people, many more globally. The aim of all this, as I personally understand it, is to create great books across several genres whilst – and sorry if this bit upsets you – making money. Once upon a time it may have been easier to reconcile aiming for both greatness and profits. It’s a tougher job these days.

Over the course of a publishing year there are approximately 100 new titles per division, but more than 400 across the whole company. Editorial teams are much smaller than they once were, with many of the tasks such as copy-editing now done by freelancers, but the number of jobs relating to each book has increased. There are now blogs and websites to update, internet as well as more traditional marketing campaigns to design, different editions to be prepared for different markets (those freebie books on the front of magazines, international editions, audiobooks) and a plethora of outlets all clamouring, we hope, for our books.

Yes, in the 1950s it may have been a more “indulgent” editorial age but it was also a very simple age, one where the market was dominated by fewer books, writers and outlets. In the internet age, it is no wonder that the book is suffering, publishers and booksellers with it. And yes, writers too.

Was it ever easier or better? Well, in the 1920s Virginia Woolf would have written a story, set it and had it printed. Independent-spirited, discerning booksellers would have recognised a startling new talent and begun to stock her books for similarly minded readers. How lovely and romantic – and possibly imaginary – that sounds. But is it?

Because how often do you willingly go into an independent bookshop to pay £9.99 for one book, when you can buy two for a tenner down the street? I confess this is a personal bugbear. But it is hypocritical to complain about the Tesco-fication of books at the same time as buying into the cut-price deals. If you care about writing and its future, about publishers taking risks or about the survival of independent bookshops (and their much wider range) you should make a point of paying full price.

Twenty years ago we all wanted cheap food and loved supermarkets; then we noticed that the supermarkets had put all the small shops out of business and were offering us bland food … cheapness and conglomeration have a detrimental effect on quality, whatever the business.

What about all the celebrity rubbish, I hear you cry? Well, again, it is hypocritical to bitch about publishers buying celebrity-penned (or not) books, when the marketplace, and readers, seem so very thirsty for it. Perhaps nobody who contributes to this blog ever reads Heat (not even over another’s shoulder), watches reality TV or uses YouTube? Yes, publishers can be accused of copying trends and following the herd – but so can we all. Publishers are businesses; they need to make money and if there are a million readers willing to buy a celebrity biography, is it really possible to argue that they shouldn’t publish it?

At the same time, it is also not true that there is less of a market for new writing and new ideas. If that were the case why are there increasing numbers of publishers, and titles, every year? Nor is it true that there is less courage. If you went into a publisher’s office you would be astounded by the dedication of editorial teams. I still am, six years on.

There aren’t many jobs that start on about £18k in London where the person would willingly give up their evenings and weekends to read, in the hope of finding something great. Every editor I know puts in more hours than they are paid for because they love reading and they love writing. The fact that it is incredibly hard to take on and sell a new writer doesn’t stop editors coming to the acquisition meeting every week to persuade sales, marketing, publicity, international to do just that.

To spend money based on judgment and pure speculation is a leap of faith. Editors do it every day, every week, because they, like everyone in publishing, love great books.

And before you think me party to the cause, I should add that I’m also a writer. Yes, as beatitude and elcalifornio point out, a network can be incredibly important if you want to get published. I got an introduction to several agents because of connections, but only one took me on. And, despite my contacts, my first book didn’t sell.

Unlike some, my reaction is not, “Oh the publishing world doesn’t know what it’s missing” – it’s a combination of, “It’s not right for the market” and (whisper this), “It’s not good enough…” What will I do? Write another. For there is a difference between wanting to write, and wanting to be published.