BOOKS AND THEIR MAKERS
SYLVIA BEACH AND JAMES JOYCE
The chattering masses these days are always on about the demise of publishing, by which they mean the vast ramshackle apparatus that churns out hundreds of thousands of inexpensive titles each year, many of which will see the light of fewer than a hundred pairs of eyes. Focussing on the macro is often depressing, any way you approach it: it's sad that the industry is shrinking, because casting a wide net perhaps ensures that the best fish are caught; but casting a wide net also means that a prize catch might not be properly fileted (to take the metaphor a bit too far). If you spend much time, as I do, talking with writers of books that have been published, you will soon acquire the ability, during a conversation about their experience, to predict what they are going to say, even to have their side of the conversation for them. "I had to do my own copy-editing," "I wanted a different title," "I hate the cover art," "It took three years to get my book out." Et cetera. On the other hand, some of the most brilliant people I know are book editors, who work quite literally day and night on behalf of their authors. They have, of course, their own set of complaints.