
Throughout your career have people warned of “the death of print” and, if so, how is this time any different?
Well, not to be rude, but duh! My time includes not only meat rationing but no television for about ten years, and after that huge, crate-like wooden boxes with 4″X4″ black-and white-screens, on which strange, target-like test patterns provided a majority of programming. Traditional publishing has, generally, always provoked the same kinds of complaints and lamentations–see Mark Twain’s letters to his publishers about skimpy distribution, and the correspondence between Bennett Cerf and Donald Klopfer about the creative accounting required to record some of the razor-thin profit margins of Random House’s early days. So no, while everyone has been telling the same evergreen stories about the dire state of publishing for centuries now, no one warned very loudly about the “death of print” until computer technology and the Internet evolved into a real threat. Ten years ago? Twenty at most, I would say–though science-fiction writers and visionaries like Ted Nelson may have foreseen this evolution earlier. Even though the e-Cassandras have been at it for a decade or two now, this will not turn into an evergreen story, unless somehow, miraculously, e-publishing subsides into being a mere a niche of traditional publishing, when the reverse seems to me far more likely. This promises to be a major structural and qualitative change, rather than simply new clothes for an old model.
Does a good editor have to have good business instincts?
Book editor? Yes–if she or he is to survive. But since the success of books is for the most part such a random matter (as Nassim Taleb explains in “The Black Swan”), no matter what anyone tells you, “instinct” is the right word. Because numbers and comp titles and previous successes and the state of the marketplace and current events and all the other supposedly rational factors that go into what is called “planning” in publishing, as with investing, will generally do the planners no better than throwing blindly at a dartboard made of book jackets, in terms of prediction. But there are some people who do seem to have a “knack.” I won’t say who I think they are, but I will point to some recent examples among popular music producers–Ahmet Ertegun and Jerry Wexler and John Hammond–who discovered Bob Dylan, who was referred to at his label, Columbia, as “Hammond’s folly” until he started setting one sales record after another.
In Leon Neyfakh’s recent Observer article “What Makes Moguls Believe They Belong In the Book Business?” Eric Wolff said he hoped publishing would “return to what it once was, and what it is probably best suited for: a prestige business for rich people.” What do you make of his statement?
It seems possible, for some boutique operations, but the huge electronic shift I believe is coming seems to me far more important to the dissemination of text of all kinds than does the continuation of “book books.” E-readers will get to be really, really good in less than five years, I would bet.
Is there one book you particularly regret not having published?
Atul Gawande is the contemporary writer I most regret not having been able to acquire. Pride and Prejudice, Great Expectations, The Great Gatsby, Lucky Jim, and Catch-22 are all books for which I would have loved to serve as a paraliterary (that’s what an editor is, essentially). Right now, an association with Henry Hitchings’ “The Secret Life of Words” seems enviable. I’m glad you didn’t ask me about books I regret publishing. Or perhaps I should say, having to publish.
What was the most difficult aspect of being Editor in chief at Random House?
The coffee in the pantry, the sun in my eyes from my panoramic river view–very annoying–and you, in your more stubborn moments.
Are you confident a younger crop of book editors will evolve into the Fisketjons and the Loomis’s of today?
Well, there will always be people who can help to make writing as good as writers themselves would make it if they were always writing at their highest level. That’s what I think good editors do, essentially. And some of those editors, no matter what their medium is–print or pixel–will be supremely good at it, like Bob Loomis.
Why aren’t you on Facebook?
What is Facebook, again?
Name three books that changed your life.
Paul de Kruif’s “The Microbe Hunters,” the aforementioned “Catch-22,” by Joseph Heller, and Theodore van de Velde’s “Ideal Marriage” (which I purloined when I was ten). (or maybe my parents put it there on purpose. Probably. They resupplied that shelf soon with a more up-to-date book called “A Marriage Manual.”)
Can you envision a future in which people would simply self-publish online without the help of an editor or publisher?
No, but I can and do see something closer to this than the model we have now, which appears at the moment to be breaking up like Arctic ice. I see consortiums of writers or single, bankable writers selling their books, e-books, directly–especially if the techies can come up with non-print-outable and non-forwardable texts–and paying editors and publicists and marketers to help them with editing and marketing. No more 15% royalties–each sale, at, say, $9.95, might well mean $8 or $9 revenues for the author. Probably can’t happen exactly that way, though: bootlegging and all.
How would you characterize the state of contemporary fiction?
With the 2008 election as a touchstone and with notable exceptions like Aleksandar Hemon’s “The Lazarus Project,” generally Arkansas-esque.
-Julia
[photo credit: Nicole Bengiveno NYTImes]