Received news early this a.m. H.A. Hargreaves died, peacefully, wife Lee and daughter Alyson with him. His last hours were spent being read to, hugged, loved. A man so worthy of kindness, consideration, admiration. In everything he did he exercised those qualities without stint, without thought of any kind of return. He was just simply Hank.
To acknowledge this Canada Day, I thought I would explain a bit about Five Rivers’ mandate: publishing Canadian voices.
I must admit to not pulling punches when I edit. That attitude comes partly from my experiences with editors whose brutal honesty I have come to respect and appreciate, and partly from their admonition to return the favour when my time came. And, like our Senior Editor Dr.
I don’t often intrude with personal paradigm and thought here, have always felt it too personal, too crass to discuss in public these ideals which guide my life and thereby this publishing house. But today, inspired by a voice I’ve often read and always admired, I break with that self-imposed restriction.
When Five Rivers launched into publishing, it was with humble beginnings and a small catalogue, primarily my own works. It was never my intention for Five Rivers to be a vanity house, yet in those first two years we were very embryonic, soliciting manuscripts and developing our mandate, which was to be a showcase of new and established Canadian voices.
Any of you who know me, also know I’ve bleated on for some years regarding the profound changes occurring in publishing, how it is the traditional method of publishing and bringing books to market is obsolete and simply not viable in today’s global, technology-driven economy.
In the publishing world the turn of every new year raises discussion of marketing strategies for possible literary awards. Marketing strategies for awards, you ask? Indeed yes. Let it not be thought that even in a juried award that some tacit form of opinion lobbying doesn’t take place.
Gary and I often sit in the evening discussing the day’s events, how business is chugging along, the progress of various books in production. And part of that discussion often revolves around marketing, awards and reviews.
Once again I find myself stunned by the increasingly moralistic, repressive response we seem to be experiencing in Western society. My astonishment is centred around PayPal’s recent McCarthyistic bullying of Smashwords, among others.
It was back in 1985 I first ventured into publishing, releasing a small book of poetry by Vaughan G. Harris, The Cabinetmaker’s Art, under my then wee imprint, Keystone Press. I published a few other chapbooks of poetry and short fiction. And quietly drifted away.
Recently there was a discussion among SFCanada members regarding historical authenticity and credible fantasy in writing fiction. In light of that discussion, I thought I’d revive an essay I wrote back in 1997 for Serve it Forth, an historical culinary periodical.
It has become almost a tired argument the past three years that print books will suffer extinction. Pundits far wiser than I have expostulated that in this world of immediate gratification and three second attention, of rampant consumerism and the rule of the mob, that books — real, paper-filled and cover bound…
Over the years I’ve heard a lot of huffing and puffing from independent booksellers about their pitiful lot in life, about mice trying to survive in the presence of mammoths, about lack of customer support, of government support, of financial support.
