It Takes An Ecosystem
In which my novel Fellowship Point leaps into the world, thanks to many.
Tomorrow, July 5, is the pub date for my new novel, Fellowship Point. I wrote it. My name is on the cover. The reviews, praise and quibbles, are aimed at my thinking, my writing. In this sense, the book is mine, and the responsibility for it begins and ends with me.
Yet this morning I am thinking about the larger ecosystem that has brought my manuscript into the world. Honestly, I only know about the tip of the iceberg, the people I am most in touch with—my wonderful, warm, energetic editor, Marysue Rucci of Scribner/Marysue Rucci books; my longtime agent, Henry Dunow, who kept me on his roster for years when I didn’t make a cent of money, who read many drafts of this book, who is optimistic and mordant in just the right proportions; my very sharp marketer, Zoey Cole, who helps me understand best practices for what I can do on my end to help the book while she does a million things I don’t see; and my excellent publicists, Katy Monaghan from Scribner, and Kate Lloyd of Kate Lloyd Literary, who likewise manage to get attention paid to the book. They are good at what they do and funny and make everything seem like it’s going well. To have that kind of attention and protection is rare. I’m in awe of it.
These are the people I talk to, and who let me know what I need to know about what is going on. My sense of ownership of the book has extended to them. When I hear tennis players at the big tournaments thank their team and acknowledge the team of their opponents, I get it. There is no way they’d be on that court without their team, and I feel the same.
There are also dozens of people I don’t know and don’t even know about who have worked on this book. The designer, the cover artist, the company executives, the salesforce, an entire large company of people who move books from manuscript to physical objects in stores…I don’t even know how all this works, but I feel the energy of an entire ecosystem involved in getting my book on shelves tomorrow.
And the booksellers! Dozens of independent booksellers read Fellowship Point in galley form and sent in positive quotes about it to behind the scenes places with catchy names like Edelweiss and IndieNext, with the result that FP is a July IndieNext pick. I get teary when I think of the dedication of the booksellers who are not only running a business but also taking the time to read and vet upcoming books, making decisions about what are good matches for their customers. How many times in my life have I read headlines that shout, The Book Is Dead. The stalwart booksellers brush off such proclamations and go on doing their part. It’s a big part. What is more pleasurable than going into an independent bookstore and poking around? Or getting a rec from the owner or someone knowledgable in the shop? The best!
I have often wondered in the past year or so if the fact that I am older makes all of this effort on behalf of what I do in long quiet hours at my desk feel so extraordinary. I think so, and I think that has to do with a sense of time and attention that now feels all too finite. That people choose to spend time thinking about or working to help my book is mind-blowing, truly. I guess I have entered the gratitude years. It is a fulfilling place to be.
I have gotten a few big reviews and they have been extraordinary. I am still surprised that what I thought of as a strange and quirky book is connecting so well with readers and with thoughtful critics. This is the delicious icing, and it has freed me up enjoy the moment. I split a beer last night with Mr. Dark. Yes, wild times.
I am looking forward to tomorrow, thanks to a complex ecosystem of people devoted to books.
It’s hard to sign off without acknowledging the enormous difficulties our country is in right now. I have never seen anything like it in my lifetime. I could go on for pages about it, but won’t. My opinions are only that. What I do believe, and wanted to make a case for in Fellowship Point, is that there is a lot of wisdom and political intelligence in older women. I hope we listen to their (our) voices as we struggle to effect equity and peace and a decent life for all.
A few links:
I love reading Margaret Roach’s newsletter every week. It’s about gardening, cooking, and noticing tiny details about plants. She writes lists of chores for the garden that make the work sound like common sense, and that creates the impression that masses of people are doing these same things in the same month, which alleviates the burden considerably. Here’s a list of all her columns so far for The New York Times.
Margaret Roach's Gardening Columns
This house! The bunk room! The three girls in pink bathing suits and caps! The pink comma-shaped sofas! Fun and dreamy.
When I was a teenager I saw a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream directed by Peter Brook. The stage was bare but for industrial scaffolding, on which the actors climbed and jumped through the funny and poignant scenes. How could so much be made of so little? I was literally tipping off the edge of my seat and holding my breath through the whole performance. It was absolute magic. By then I’d read all of Shakespeare (I went to that kind of school) but never before had I understood that he wasn’t a writer from the past, but had transcended time. He was alive. Brook showed it. Brook himself died yesterday, and his obit is worth reading. A visionary person who got in trouble a lot! I often paraphrase to my classes a moment in a documentary where Sir Ben Kingsley spoke about auditioning for Peter Brook at RADA. Brook told him that his performance was along the lines of bland, and told him to think of people gossiping with each other over the garden fence, and how much intrigue there is in daily life. An actor has to be more interesting and bigger than the very real interests of everyone’s own self in order to get people to pay attention to him. This had a great effect on me. No more quiet writing. Thank you, Peter Brook.