Representing Ireland abroad; the Federation of European Publishers.

A publisher’s life can be hard at times. I am writing this while enjoying a chilled white wine on a sunny terrace in Llubljana, surrounded by the young and the beautiful. Furthermore my quest for new and stylish stockings – one simply can’t turn up underdressed at a gala dinner in a castle – has been successful.

At this point you may be wondering why Irish publishers need representing in Slovenia, whilst mumbling something along the lines of ’you call that work?’ The answer of course is: they don’t. But they do need to be represented in the Federation of European Publishers (FEP); where the meeting is is secondary.

But the trip to Slovenia is not about selling or buying rights; indeed not about selling or promoting Ireland at all. It’s about networking, with a strong emphasis on the word ‘net’ (so stop mumbling). Meeting interesting people (well, most of the time), talking about the usual suspects – a publisher’s meeting without at least six references to Google simply isn’t a publisher’s meeting – and going to an awful lot of stylish restaurants and cosy pubs (somebody has to).

Mind you, in exchange for that you have to sit through speeches by local deputy mayors which seem to go on for the best part of a century and actually don’t have a subject at all (although I did find out that grapes grow in Slovenia, and that they have predecessors). But the end result is that you get a unique insight into and understanding of the publishing industry in the EU, and that crucial information is only a mail or a phone call away. Now call me a trifle stupid but that sounds like a pretty good bargain to me.

Incidentally, one has to give it to the Slovenians: they know how to lead a good life. And Llubljana is an exceptionally pretty small city: a tidy and perfect cross between Vienna and Prague, with a dash of Bruges thrown in. And the underground dancing scene is not bad either (so I understand from reliable sources).

So if you don’t mind: I think I’ll continue to represent Ireland abroad. Venice clearly needs me.

How my ereader is making my life easier.

A few weeks ago I wrote a blogpost about how travelling with a Kindle wasn’t all it was cracked up to me. On a short flight to London, I was asked by the air stewardess to switch it off upon take off and landing (I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was unable to; it goes into sleep mode itself after a period of not being used.)

Some readers commented that in fact it was my fault (yes, I’m looking at you @anseoamuinteoir); I had complained because it ran out of battery when I wanted it, and was not able to use it for the entire duration of the flight, unlike a paper book.

So I promised I would write another article to balance my previous one. In fact, it was terribly easy to come up the advantage the Kindle/ereader has to offer.

I’m currently in Ljubljana, Slovenia, attending the World Book Summit and meetings with the Federation of European Publishers (FEP). I’m the Irish representative to the FEP and we have meetings around Europe five times a year.

In advance of the meetings, the FEP staff email several documents to the representatives; the agenda, any relevant court rulings, lots of potential amendments to Bills across Europe, so the pre-meeting reading material can amount to close to 200 pages. I often frantically print these documents a day or two before the meeting, and read through them at the airport(s) and on the plane. This can be terribly messy unless you’re terribly organised (I’m not) and results in pages falling down, and never being able to find the right document during the discussion about that particular topic.

Then along came Kindle. 

The ability to be able to email the documents to myself has radically changed my modus operandi. As each document came into my inbox, I immediately forwarded it to my Kindle, and would read through it at night before resuming my novel. By the time I got onto the plane, I was able to read through complex court rulings quite easily; the Kindle is a pleasurable reading experience. I could then take notes in comfort; not needing my cumbersome laptop, or flicking through 200 pages of unsorted paperwork. I can easily find each document on the Kindle.

Some people mistakenly think publishers fear the digital age; that we are ludites who only deal in paper editions of books. This is clearly not true.

I’m sitting at a riverside cafe in Ljubljana writing this on my laptop, enjoying the warm sunshine, listening to my ipod, with my Kindle stashed in my bag while I wait to attend the FEP meeting. The technological revolution keeps evolving and changing, and making people’s lives easier and better. I thoroughly embrace all new technologies, as does my company, Maverick House.

Maverick House is converting its back catalogue to ebooks at the moment; our catalogue consists of about 100 books, so it will take some time to see the entire list there, but we are doing simultaneous editions of every book we’ve published since this year. The next book Maverick will produce as an ebook is The Templars and the Shroud of Christ, by Vatican historian, Barbara Frale which will also be published in a paperback in April 2011.

As a publisher, I am often asked how ebooks will affect publishing. The truth is that publishers want people to read; it doesn’t really matter what format it’s in. If people read, whether it’s on an ereader or a paper book, it doesn’t really matter. We produce content and we disseminate it to an audience to consume in whatever way they want. The important thing is that people continue to read, especially the next generation. If we lose a generation and they don’t embrace reading, then we will lose a generation of writers. In order to write, and to write well, the most important thing is to read.

As for me, I’m currently reading a novel on my Kindle, which is light and easy to transport (the novel has about 500 pages in the paper edition). I also have a stack of books on my bedside locker, one of which will be my next reading choice.

Books and ereaders will continue to live side by side, and ereaders will continue to improve with each release. I don’t know how people will read in the future, and the truth is I don’t care. As long as they are reading. And Maverick House will continue to keep up with technology and cater for our readers.

Subtitles

I wouldn’t say I’m hard of hearing, but I do enjoy watching television with subtitles. Depending on the accent, or the sound quality, my ears can miss vital lines of dialogue. I don’t switch on subtitles often as I’d like to, as the company I keep doesn’t like them, because the subtitles appear on the screen about […]

Why I could not buy a daffodil for Daffodil Day.

I’ve always been a great sport, and would consider myself an altruistic person. I have enthusiastically fundraised for different charities over the years, and partook in dinner dances, fun-days, table quizzes, sponsored fasts, sponsored walks and parachute jumps (just the one actually!). When a friend suggested that we run Dublin’s Mini Marathon for the Irish Cancer Society, I didn’t hesitate. I had seen thousands of women running for them year after year and was aware of the amount of people whose lives were touched by cancer. I always considered myself lucky that I never actually needed their services.

One day, this all changed.

When my father was first diagnosed with cancer in May 2003, his consultant decided not to do chemotherapy on him, but said that to remove his tumour first would be the best course of action. I didn’t know anything about cancer, so I decided to ring the Irish Cancer Society’s helpline to see if they had any advice they could give me.

The lady who answered the phone was very polite and concerned, but said she was unable to help, and there was no nurse present who could take my call, but she took my number and said I would get a call back.

Two weeks later my Dad was admitted to hospital, where he underwent microsurgery, to allow the surgeons ascertain the size and extent of the tumour. He told me that everything appeared to be fine, and they scheduled his operation for 23 May. Dad assured me that everything was under control, but I like to get a second opinion. Just before his operation, I rang the cancer helpline again, seeking reassurance that this was the best course of action. Again, I was told that there was no nurse available to take my call, but once again a kind lady took my name and number and said I would get a callback.

The operation to remove the tumour from his stomach was deemed successful by his surgeons; even though they were surprised to discover that it was the size of a football. I expected that this was the beginning of his recovery, and that every day after that would be a day of healing. Once again I was wrong.

He developed an infection, and his body started to shut down in shock and protest at the scale of operation. Ten days after they removed his tumour, he was put onto a life support machine. I was inconsolable. I was angry. I prayed for a miracle. 

I wanted someone to blame. I rang the Irish Cancer Society’s helpline for the third time; I wanted them to tell me that it would be okay; that he would come around. Once again, a kind lady told me that no one was available to take my call, but that a nurse would call me back.

When the nurses switched off Dad’s life support machine, I still hadn’t spoken to anyone in the Irish Cancer Society. They clearly were short of resources, but rather than rally round them and start fundraising so they could help the next person, I’m afraid to say I lost myself in grief and blame. When I saw anyone selling daffodils for them, I would glare at them, willing them to ask me to buy a daffodil so I could tell them my feelings. Luckily the volunteers were wise enough to let me pass by unobstructed.

This grief and anger stayed for many years, longer than I expected it to. When I heard the ads for Daffodil Day year after year, it brought back my familiar feelings of loss, pain and grief. This year, however, the anger was missing. I seem to have finally accepted that my Dad, Robert Harrington, who died at 55; six weeks after being diagnosed with cancer, is no longer in my life. I miss him SO much, and I feel a great sense of loss that he is not involved in my life. But I also accept it. This year, almost eight years after my father’s death, I think I’m ready to buy a daffodil.

NOTE: A friend who was fundraising for the Irish Cancer Society made contact with them last year on my behalf. They apologised for the situation I had been in (no apology was needed), and they said they have remedied the personnel problem. People who need to talk to someone about cancer should have no problems getting through to the right person there, and shouldn’t be put off by my story. My mother had a cancer scare late last year, and when I rang them, I was immediately put through to a nurse who advised me on the best course of action.

 National Cancer Helpline: 1800 200 700 (Mon-Thurs 9-7, Friday 9-5)

Travelling with an e-reader ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I went on a short break to London last week. Most of my recent trips to London have been to the London Book Fair or to meet customers, so I was looking forward to seeing the city through a tourist’s eyes once again.

As any bookaholic can attest to, my primary concern when packing was what books I would bring (given that I would have oodles of time to read). I was very excited at the thoughts of bringing my Kindle with me. I would finally see one of it’s main advantages; travelling light, and I could have lots of books at my fingertips in one slim package. I was in the middle of another book, The Twin (which won the IMPAC prize last year), so I put that in my handbag too.

I had just started reading The Corrections on the Kindle when the airhostess told me to switch it off until we were airbound (and I was not allowed read it for the last 10 minutes prior to landing either).

I had previously heard rumours in the book community that they would not allow you to read with an electronic device for takeoff and landing, but I assumed it was an urban legend. Now I had all the proof I needed that paper books are better.

My immediate concern was what I would read on the journey, and I was relieved I had brought my paperback, so I read that instead.

Two nights later I had finished my book and I picked up my Kindle from my bedside locker to continue reading The Corrections to discover … the battery was COMPLETELY dead. Snookered again.

The Kindle; which is touted as the ideal reading companion for travelling was not doing well. This time, I had no paperback alternative, so I was completely abandoned.

The moral of the story: e-readers are a bit like a mistress (there is no male alternative to that word); slim and an exciting change, but ultimately undependable. For reliability and substance, I’ll be sticking to paper books.

doppelganger

I never thought I would end up blogging (I wonder how many bloggers have written that). People who blog seem to have so much time, and so much to say. On the contrary, while I have a lot to say, I rarely have the time to sit down and write about it.  And yet …. here I am. Of course there is always a tipping point; a reason why people first sit down to blog. For me, it was quite simple.

I am a writer; an author if you will. I’ve ghostwritten a few books, and I’m almost finished my first book, called ‘The Mission’. Two colleagues (separately) recently told me with delight that they had purchased my book; one on Kindle, one on Amazon.

‘What book? It’s not published yet!’ I exclaimed.

It seems there is another Jean Harrington who is also an author out there in cyberspace. The fact that she is American and writes novels (my book is a work of non-fiction) passed unnoticed by my colleagues. She was savvy enough to claim the dot.com domain name and get her book onto it.

I was shocked, not because I had lost two potential sales, but because I always considered that I had a good web presence; I was confident that I would be found if someone searched for my name on the internet. I use Twitter and Facebook on a daily basis and frequently appear quoted on different websites in my capacity as president of Publishing Ireland. I was wrong. So here I am, reclaiming my name and staking my claim. This is Jean Harrington, Irish author saying ‘hello world’.