The Moment of Truth

My younger sister and I have had to begin sharing close quarters for the next week, as she moves in to my studio apartment before I'm fully able to move out.  (I have two sisters.  This is a different one than the one in Morocco.)  So far there's been one major unintended consequence: After she had moved all of her junk-- er, I mean, stuff--in, I was surprised to see a bright pink Kindle plugged into the outlet by the windowsill.

This is it, then.  I have borrowed her Kindle and am now reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (or, Men Who Hate Women).  As an ebook.  The grand experiment begins...

It Runs in the Family

If you thought moving to India was nuts, my sister has one better: she just moved to Morocco.  Check out her new blog here.  Her first post quotes liberally from the Talking Heads and The Princess Bride.  I can't wait to hear more about her adventures.

Music Makers

Every Wednesday in summer, the Boston Landmark Orchestra plays for free at the outdoor Hatch Shell just off the Charles River.  They perform with only minmal amplification, the acoustics of the giant stone semi-circle doing most of the work, as the sun sets over Cambridge on the opposite side of the water.  Families camp out on blankets in front of the stage, but gradually the crowd swells with joggers, walkers, and wanderers who happen to be nearby and are drawn in by the music.  Even scattered kayaks and sailboats loiter along the shore to catch the show.

I finally went a few weeks ago, propelled by the immediacy of leaving.  This is the video I took: a little uneven, but you can get the atmosphere.


I have a thing for outdoor concerts, especially free ones.  In Delhi, I learned more about traditional music styles from seeing them live than I did from any research in bookstores or libraries.  At Nizzamudin, a Sufi Muslim district of Delhi, I stopped by a qawwali festival one evening with a group of friends.  I had read about qawwali from William Dalyrimple's book City of Djinns, but not even his great words prepared me for the power of their voices.



The songs were all in Hindi, but luckily one of my Indian co-workers had come along.  She didn't translate every song directly, but at one point she began to giggle.  When we asked what was so funny, she explained the song was a little scandalous.  Something to do with a "dirty dupatta."  Oh my!

I was also recommended a free concert in Nehru Park, hosted by Spic Macay, or "Society for Promotion of Indian Classical Music And Culture Amongst Youth."  We sat on the grass and batted away mosquitos, listening to a duet between a famous sitar player and tabla player.  In the cool evening, after a long day trudging through 110 degree heat, the effect was mesmerizing.


That's one thing I think I'm going to miss when I live in England.  Maybe if I'm lucky, the grey skies and rain will abate long enough to grab a lawn blanket and find a local show.  On the other hand, the local pub doesn't seem like such a bad Plan B.

Detroit Rap City

This past weekend, my favorite travel companion and I completed our least favorite trip so far: the 14-hour roadtrip from Boston to Detroit.

A few words about Detroit: I grew up in its suburbs.  I'm rabid about its hockey team.  Even tho I live in Boston and root for the Sox, I'm happy Johnny Damon decided to stay with the Tigers.  Last weekend we drove into town in time for the end of the Woodward Dream Cruise, and so noticed at least seven or eight old Cadillacs puttering down the highway.  It's probably not as dangerous as they say, but we do have more and more abandoned buildings every time I come home.

Most importantly, I do know where 8-Mile is.  This is the number-one question I'm asked when I'm abroad and someone finds out I'm from Detroit.*  In fact, I usually reply, 8-Mile Road runs through my town.  I gain instant "street cred."  I just don't mention that 8-Mile is terribly long and, where it ends in my neighborhood, it's leafy and tree-lined and we change the name to "Vernier."  It's still 8-Mile.

That being said, this article reminded me that I have only seen one actual rap battle.  Where?  Well, in the Arts and Letters concourse at the University College Dublin, of course!  The battle was between three skinny Irish kids.  I don't remember who won.

Sheesh.  Just when you think you've got the world figured out . . .

*Except for the one Nepali border guard who said, "Do you make Ford? Vroom!" Excellent.

You'll Have to Excuse Me

This blog may become one long love-letter to Boston. I only have two more weeks in town, and I've been living here a while...

Sunset on the Esplanade

Throwing the Book

Here's Seth Grodin, on why he's leaving the traditional book publishing world for his much-hyped foray into self-publishing:

I like the people, but I can't abide the long wait, the filters, the big push at launch, the nudging to get people to go to a store they don't usually visit to buy something they don't usually buy, to get them to pay for an idea in a form that's hard to spread... I really don't think the process is worth the effort that it now takes to make it work.

And:

In terms of responding to changes in the world, I'm at a loss to think of one thing the book industry does well in 2010 that it wasn't already doing in 1990. Not one new thing done well.

I understand that this is a big move (although hardly a "defining moment in the already shaken book publishing industry"), but I have to disagree with the logic.  It seems like his premise is frustration and "nots", as in, "No one buys hardcovers so I'm not going to sell hardcovers" instead of "I bet I can make something better than a hardcover."  I don't even think I agree with how he characterizes books.  Since when is going to a bookstore unpleasant, buying a book an ordeal?  Aren't bound books one of the best ways to spread information, in fact easier to "lend" than a Kindle ebook?  If books are faulty technology, why have we been using them for thousands of years?

What's worse, he touts his new strategy of print-on-demand and user-directed content as though it were his own invention.  Funny, because that's what's been paying my rent for four years.  Just because he "can't think of it" doesn't mean it's not being done and developed.

Anyways.  This interview is probably the best mechanism Grodin has to generate discussion and publicity, so he's just sold a few extra copies right there.  I just think it's silly to exaggerate your contribution to a process that's closer to evolution than extinction.

You've Got Mail

It's always lovely when work and life achieve a kind of synchronicity.  Though I currently have student loans arranged, a flat rented, tuition paid, and a plane flight to the UK, I don't actually have permission for any of these things yet.  That permission, in the form of a student visa, is still not in hand thanks to a pending bit of paperwork from my online savings account.  "It's coming as fast as the mail will deliver it," I was assured by a friendly customer service rep.  It wasn't until I hung up that I noticed the company's main office address . . . in an isolated part of the American West.  I wasn't going to be seeing that letterhead anytime soon.

Meanwhile, it's distribution time for college textbooks, and success is similarly tied up with the mail.  Even after haggling mercilessly to get the earliest possible delivery date, our professors -- and therefore my editorial colleagues in the field -- are starting to look anxiously at their calendars and demand to know exactly when they'll get their books.  We take on-time delivery very seriously, so the office has become a flurry of FedEx tracking numbers and bookstore purchase orders.  When it comes down to it, these few weeks of fulfillment are even more important than the several weeks we spent fitting words on the page.  A professor's entire course depends on our performance.  The biggest difficulty is that all of the action is taking place miles outside the office, so once the printer is let fly there is very little we can change or control.

It's difficult to trust that, just like the books you've created on are on their way to the bookstore, that little piece of paper for the British government is also on its way.  Without knowing the exact location, it's easy to stress.  I'm happy to report that, after several trips back and forth to my mailbox, I got my letter today, and my application was dispatched soon after.  Now comes the next long wait, while the border office makes their official decision.

If nothing less, this whole experience has taught me sympathy for those anxious professors.  It's not easy to leave important matters prey to the contents of your mailbox.

Pardon the Micro-Post . . .

. . . but, while we're on the topic of International Publishing, I learned through The Economist's language blog today that books often get retitled between different international translations.  So, for instance, in its native Sweden, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was originally titled (in Swedish): Men Who Hate Women.

Would that title have sold a million copies on Kindle?  My Yankee sensibilities say, probably not.

Another Argument for E-Readers

In addition to this, and this, let's add to the debate: moving to England.  Have you ever tried to pack up an editor's apartment?  This seventy-five pound suitcase full of books could have been avoided if only I'd invested in a Kindle.

Play Something Country

On my last day at work in India, I was told by one of my colleagues that I had begun "dressing more Indian."  I blame that transformation on my unequivocal love and admiration of the Indian bazaar.  (I also didn't own any American clothing that could even remotely withstand the blistering Indian heat, which formed my slightly more legitimate excuse.)

Now that I'm back in the United States, I still sport the occasional paisley skirt or silk scarf.  However, my coworkers comment made me reflect on those closet items rooted squarely in America.  Take for instance, the style exemplified by the recent tour of longtime country duo, Brooks and Dunn.

At a concert sponsored by a pickup truck and whose logo is a giant steer's head, imagine what outrageous outfits come out of the woodwork when the music starts to twang.

Of course, your correspondent isn't immune to the all-American atmosphere.

Wait'll the Brits see this

As Brooks and Dunn themselves once said: You can take the girl out of the honky tonk . . . but you can't take the honky-tonk out of the girl.

Happy Independence Day to my Indian readers!

One Less Bad Beach Read

A friend approached me a few years ago asking for advice on getting his first novel published.  After the requisite congratulations for being able to finish the writing process--an accomplishment all to itself--I put on my editor hat and gave him the news no one who's just finished his novel wants to hear: commissioning editors won't read your book.

That's not to say that no one will read your book.  It just means that, in the course of the typical workday, thousands upon thousands of manuscripts are sent to publishing houses, quantities that are impossible for editors to handle.  They couldn't possibly parse through all that and still be at the edge of their seats for your "shocking plot twist" in Chapter 12.  Maybe some publishing houses have a low-level assistant read through slush piles, but most unsolicited manuscripts won't get a first glance.  My advice to him was, if you want someone to get your book under an editor's nose, you want an agent.

Agents know who publishes what kind of book, they know what editors are looking for, and best of all they know how to make your book like all of the above.  So, it falls to them to handle the thankless job of looking at unpolished Word .docs uncovering the next Steigg Larsson.  (As it happens, some agents are still too busy to read unsolicited work, but there are many others who are willing to take on new talent.  Everyone's got to start small.)

I bring this up because I got a little thrill of glee this morning reading articles in Slate and on Getting Past the Gatekeeper about the literary world's negative response to the influx of Eat, Pray, Love imitations.  As a traveler, as an editor, and as a person, I've grown a little tired of being asked whether my travel experiences--especially the time spent editing in India--were anything like Elizabeth Gilbert's.  (Quick answer: No.)  It makes me feel much better knowing that literary agents share my disdain.

It also makes me feel better knowing that agents and editors are aware of the cliche and are more than happy to avoid it.  That's the sign of a healthy creativity machine.  Bring on the next big thing!

---------
UPDATE:  The same day I posted this, I got asked about my Eat, Pray, Love experience by none other than my favorite yoga instructor.  You know what I said in response?  Ho Ho, Ha Ha.

Now? Now? Now? How about now? Or now?

It's the time of year to break out the old definition of insanity:  Repeating the same action and expecting different results.

Essential to any high-volume publishing operation--especially an operation which revolves around a set date, like the first day of classes--is to incorporate a plan.  With every project, we forecast weeks ahead of time when the book will be sent to a print vendor, when and for how long it will be on the press, and how it will be shipped so that students get their books on time.  With tens of thousands of new titles being processed in one summer alone, there has become less and less margin for error.  These days, if we hand a book off for manufacturing even a few hours behind schedule we throw a wrench in the works that effects not only our titles, but the titles of every other editor.

Part and parcel to this, titles that truly need to be moved forward can sometimes face a wall of difficulties.  I give a lot of credit to our team members who are constantly asked to juggle schedules and coordinate moving parts so that everyone gets their books on time.  Sometimes, we're even surprised with an urgent request to get something done earlier, to assuage a grumpy professor.  Most of the time, we have to say 'no.' Even when asked again, 'no.'

Of course, happy professors are the goal of our business, so the grumpier they get, the more times we're asked.

[careful, mild language]

The Boston Bucket List

With only a months until I venture abroad for a full year, I've spent as much time as possible doing all of the things in the Boston area which have made this city such a wonderful place to live.

Catching a few Red Sox games at Fenway Park:

The view from the State Street Pavilion

Seeing free Shakespeare on Boston Common:

This year's production of Othello

Mountain-climbing in New Hampshire:

Mt. Cardigan

View of the White Mountains

And touring the Harpoon Brewery:

It's to Boston's credit that, even after doing my best to enjoy myself every waking minute, there is still so much to do, so much to see, and so many people I have to say goodbye to.  Change is never easy, but it does help you to appreciate the things you have.

Living History

Boston is one of the most historic cities in America.  We take a lot of pride in being the site of famous events in the American Revolution, including the Boston Tea Party and the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.  In fact, we've built much of our tourism economy around this very ideal.

As a result, every so often your correspondent encounters someone or other dressed in period costume on their way to work.

It's hard to say who looked weirder -- the man in costume, or me chasing after him to get a photo.

At least, I assume this is what's going on.  It could just be that this gentleman has odd taste in hats.

Primary Sources

I was so happy this morning to see this post ("Textbook Alternatives") on Confessions of a Community College Teacher, a blog written by the dean of a local CC.  For the first time, I'm hearing honest musings from the source about the textbook selection process, and the efforts being made to get around rising costs .  For anyone interested in looking at a breakdown of the pros and cons of e-textbooks, open-source materials, textbook rentals, etc., I would direct you here first.

I only hope that the trend is not heading towards what one commenter suggested: ". . . compile the texts from gutenberg, slap on short Wikipedia bios if they're that attached to the bios, and print the whole mess up at lulu.com for $12."  As an editor, using Wikipedia as a portion of your textbook makes me shudder.  God only knows what copyright violations, grammatical errors, and factual inaccuracies lie under that lid . . .