Thursday May 13, 2010
A New Project and a Big Coincidence
I think I actually typed "Ha" when Brett sent me the manuscript. The coincidence was just too much.
Let me rewind: I was recently recruited (translation: I volunteered and my offer to help was accepted) to join Publishng, a project cooked up by Brett Sandusky—who I know only via Twitter. You can read all about the project on Brett's Publishr blog, but the basic idea is to assemble people with various publishing skills, form a working group, and bring an e-book to market from acquisition through retail. If you know me, or this blog, you know this is right up my alley. I volunteered because I thought it would be fun and I figured I could learn a lot. Now that the team has been assembled, I know I'll learn a lot. The idea is also to be as transparent as possible about the process, so that what we learn can benefit others who (like us) are trying to imagine what publishing might look like as digital-first publishing becomes mainstream.
Back to me typing "Ha." As soon as Brett announced the team, he told me he was e-mailing over a manuscript. When I opened it and saw it was by Brian Joseph Davis, I had to laugh. Brian and I haven't known each other long, but we've quickly become collaborators. He is, along with his wife Emily Schultz, founder of the Toronto-based lit site Joyland. We met at a Joyland event at KGB bar last September. Brian was kind enough to review my e-book, Cassingle, in Toronto's Eye Weekly a few months later and to run a new story by me, "Pangaea," on the Joyland site in March. Last month, I read with him at McNally Jackson as he toured to support his new collection, Ronald Reagan, My Father. Which is where he also met Ami Greko—the only Publishng team member I have met in real life—who invited him to submit a manuscript to the Publishng crew. Brian and I are also collaborating on a project involving my work that will be announced next month. (Topic for future blog post: "You Can Only Be as Transparent as Your Least Translucent Partner.")
I say all this just to get it out there, and to let you know how astounding it was to me—how utterly Ha-inspiring—that Brian had ended up submitting his work to this project and I hadn't been the one who brought him in. The world felt small. As I immediately wrote to Brett, "I guess this can be read in one of two ways. Either I am unqualified to pass judgment, or the coincidence is so ridiculous that it is meant to be."
Brett leaned toward the latter, and Brian had no objection to us both being on the project when I checked it out with him later. Here is what I told Brett about Brian at the time (I'm trying to push myself on transparency for this project, keenly aware that the line between transparency and self-indulgence is thin. I'm sure I will cross it, if I haven't already):
Brian, in my opinion, is a smart and hilarious writer. I read his last book—I, Tania—when we were talking about working together and it made me snort out loud, and I do not snort out loud. (It's a fake autobiography by Patty Hearst if Patty Hearst were, say, Mark Leyner.) He writes stuff I wish I'd written, and he's done very clever stuff on the side, like commissioning well-executed radio plays of his work. (You should really listen to the audio version of "Johnny," a story composed entirely of movie lines that include the name Johnny. The Norma Desmond-esque performance is priceless.)
I'm happy to report that the rest of the team is at least as enthusiastic about Brian's present manuscript as I am. Brian himself introduces it today, along with reactions from the Publishng team. (I particularly like what Matthew Diener has to say, and I've also wondered if we shouldn't just call the book The Millionaire.) The book is in a relatively early stage, as Brian stipulated when he submitted it, but it's well on its way. To give you an idea of how perfect Brian is for this project, the first story in his collection is about a pair of frustrated self-publishers who—angered that their books aren't selling—take a print-on-demand clerk hostage and force him to write something. The Incompetents is likewise a satire that takes a hard, hilarious look at the place, value, and (at times) absurdity of art. The Publishng crew is lucky to have it. I hope we can do it justice.
If you're interested in watching this project unfold, team members will be posting updates on a rotating basis every Thursday at the Publishr blog. There is also a Twitter account, a hashtag, and a Formspring account if you have questions.





