Malaysia's new historical narratives.

Malaysia needs a new historical narrative that can unite its people of diverse races, Tun Musa Hitam said at the launch of the 60th National History Summit, as was widely reported in the media. I don't think anyone would dispute that. Certainly, history cannot be only about winners and losers. “There is a historical combat in many countries," Tun Musa Hitam further said. I won't say 'many', I'd say every. Every country has historical disputes but, perhaps, none like Malaysia.

Historians regard their job as a science and it should be. However, if only they were not human, nobody paid them, didn't take sides during wars and disputes, have no loyalty, no emotion, no belief system, and are totally and utterly objective. It has been argued that the myth of the battle of Agincourt, the centrepiece of Henry V by William Shakespeare,  boosted the British national confidence, pride and ego to such an extent that it made them the most powerful colonial force in the history of the world, one that even the Roman's couldn't dream of. George Washington's apple tree incident is now disputed. More recently, in India, the Sethu Samudram project was put off because of a Hindu myth; Hanuman and his monkey horde won the court battle against the country's leading geologists and scientists.

In a battle between myth and history, the latter will always lose.

But Malaysia has another problem, one of credibility. People have no confidence in historians because they are assumed to be under the payroll of unseen forces, and therefore blatantly lie. So, no matter what version of history is written, it will be suspect. The main agenda of the 60th National History Summit should have been: How do we clean up the public image of Malaysian historians? Much of it is only perception, and patently untrue. But so what, if people think you are lying?

Everyone in the country wants history to be rewritten. But which version? Theirs. History only becomes accepted and acceptable when we are no longer afraid of the truth. Sure, everyone will call their version the truth, when it is merely a version of a lie. I will give you an example.

I get several customers in the shop who come looking for 'good' history books. One lady asked about one such recommendation, "Does it have Parameswara in it?" I said, "Yes," but I didn't add, "but that's not why it's good." She didn't look like someone who was clever, or non-poitical, enough to understand. For her, a good Malaysian history book must have Parameswara in it because she learnt that in school, or else the government was doing a fiddle.

Would it have made a difference if I had told her that Parameswara may not even been a name but a title, one of the four he had (according to some sources) in the fashion of Hindu rulers of the period? It was often difficult to say where titles ended and names began. Parameswara means the great lord from the words "param" meaning the highest and 'ishwara' meaning supreme being. (Yes, that's the reason many Hindus were sniggering when Proton decided to name a model of their car that.)

That entire problem was probably caused by Tome Pires, the apothecarist from Lisbon. In The Suma Oriental, he named the prince from Palembang, "Paramjcura which means the bravest man in the Palembang Javanese tongue." Why Javanese tongue? In all probability, it was of Indian/Hindu origin. (You can imagine a ruler assuming the role of the Great Lord, can't you?) Tome Pires went further to say that his wife was Paramjcure. Parameswari is the female equivalent, the great goddess, and our own Permaisuri probably comes from there. Winstead appears to have taken off from that, but stretched it a little more by suggesting that he was called Parameswara because he was a commoner who married a princess. Where did he get that? The Andayas' sources appear to have been the same too.

None of the versions of The Malay Annals I have read mention Parameswara. In Sedjarat Melayou translated by Devic and Starkweather, he is King Is Kender Chah. In Leyden's (often called Raffles') version, he is Raja Secander Shah. CC Brown calls him Sultan Iskandar Shah. Iskandar (after Alexander the Great) was the name of choice among many Malay kings. (Interestingly, Skanda is also another name for the South Indian god, Murugan, to put a cat among the pigeons.)

Tome Pires and Richard Winstead, and a host of others, were colonials, not professional historians. They were amateurs, albeit gifted and passionate. (Winstead was a civil servant). But their agenda was clearly colonial, and they made no attempts to hide where their loyalty lay. Their prejudice and lack of knowledge often showed glaringly in their writings. Still, let's not thrash their work summarily, lest we throw out the baby with the bath water. Let's not take their word as gospel either.

We still don't know the truth of many historical events and people, and we may never. A good historian must also be a linguist. However, in Malaysia it's not historical accuracy that is at stake, but credibility. Once a reputation (real or imaginary) for lying and manipulation has been established (and believed), it is difficult to turn it around. Historical errors might be due to plain incompetence, but try telling that to the people who are convinced that you are merely a stooge because you're constantly quoted in the 'wrong' newspapers.

So let the first agenda of the 61st National History Summit be: Rebuilding the credibility and dignity of the Malaysian Historian.

Kerja macam Cina (Work like a Chinese)

Two stories in the media recently made me sit up. First, was a column in the New Straits Times (22 December, 2013) by one Awang Hitam about 'apartheid' in Malaysia, in which the writer accused non-Malay companies control the economy by of refusing entry and employment to Malays. Second, there was a story in The Malaysian Insider (23 December, 2013) about Ku Li's claim that Malays have only themselves to blame for their troubles.

In Abdullah Hussain's Interlok, one of the leading characters is called Cina Panjang (now a Silverfish meme) -- an unscrupulous Chinese shopkeeper who keeps his Malay kampong customers in debt, with the view of taking over their property. A stereotype, no doubt. But think of an entire Malay population that does not read anything fed on this, with the stereotype reinforced over and over in book after book. (I'm certain there are many Cina Panjangs of all races out there in Malaysian and nobody like them, but this Cina Panjang in Interlok had a strong work ethic too.)

Let me tell you four stories:

1. Some time ago, Dina told us this one: Her uncle (or someone like that) was starting a business and asked if she could help find him good hardworking people from amongst her friends. Part of their salaries would be fixed and the rest will be performance based. She asked around and got this response (or something similar): "Ta'ndak lah, kak Dina. Saya ta'mau kerja macam Cina." (No, kak Dina. I don't want to work like a Chinese -- another delicious Malaysian meme.)

2. At a recent stand-up comedy show in PJ, Patrick Teoh reportedly made this crack (I heard this second hand, so please correct me if I'm saying it wrong): "He only looks Chinese. Actually, he's Malay," in defence of his friend's lack of business acumen. (Another meme, no?)

3. This happened several years ago when I was in the government service. I was in the office of another head of department, to seek his help to locate a document. He called in the staff in charge, a young women in her late twenties, to assist me. "Ta'mau, lah, Mr Tan. Saya malas cari." (I don't want to, Mr Tan. I'm too lazy to look for it.) I watched Mr Tan going sheepish, and realised that he was going to just let it go. Was he frightened? Of what? I decided to take charge. "What do you mean you're lazy? Is it not your job?" I snapped at her. The document landed on my desk that afternoon. Still, this is probably the only country in the world where you can tell your boss you're lazy, and get away with it.

4. We had a fairly large order from Taiwan recently, and had to get in touch with about twenty local publishers. Calling and emailing them to get someone to respond was a nightmare enough. Getting some of them to send a proforma invoice was worse. And then, after paying them in cash and in full, persuading them to send us the books (or let us pick them up) was like tooth-extraction with wobbly pliers without anaesthetic, with the patient kicking and screaming as if not willing to part with anything. It took us about four weeks for something that should have been done in four days. (The people in Taiwan must think Malaysians are quite spectacular.)

But seen from another perspective, the situation might become clearer. Many of these publishers are used to selling their entire print-runs (of two or three thousand copies) to the national library or other government departments in one order -- all done, paid in full, no discounts, kow thim. An author, who is published by one of them, who asked if her books will be in bookshops, was told that it was too much work. Leceh.

I guess, with our order, the malas cari syndrome kicked in big-time. What? Look for the books in the warehouse? Who do they think we are? Coolies? Dia orang 'ni suka buat susah, 'ja. (These people are only like to make our lives difficult.) Why work when you can live forever on the gravy?

And the debate about unemployed and unemployable graduates continues. Is it a problem of knowledge and competence, English language or work ethics? Does anyone have the courage to investigate, and give it a name? Turnover cycles are getting shorter and shorter, time is getting more and more critical in business. We simply cannot afford to take four weeks to do a job that needs four days. Maybe that's why others are eating out lunch.

Another two stories (more positive ones, these):

1. I once came in early to the shop (at 8.00am) to finish some work. When I opened the door. I saw Irman in the shop. "You're very early," I said. "No lah, haven't gone home yet," he replied. He  was working on my cover design the night before when I left, worked late into the night, and decided to sleep in the shop because it was too late to go home.

2. I frequently work on the IT aspects of my job over the weekend at home. Sometimes, I'll have get in touch with 'support', normally in the US, where it's night when it's day here, and I am surprised at how quickly they respond. "Don't you guys ever sleep," I sometimes ask (often way past midnight, their time).

Maybe, 'kerja macam Cina', is not so bad.

Did Gulliver visit Malaysia?

Two dear friends gave me a present recently -- a belated one for my birthday, or an early one for Christmas, I'm not sure. It was a Walker's Illustrated Classic edition of Gulliver. It is a gorgeous book indeed, and the illustrations by Chris Riddell are to die for. I first read Gulliver's Travels when I was a child, yes centuries ago. I was already an adult when I read the unabridged version. This Walker's edition brought back memories and an entirely new perspective.

Lilliput was Malaysia three hundred years ago in a time warp

There is a map in the book that places Lilliput in the eastern part of the Indian Ocean, and south of the Indonesian islands. I think they got it wrong there. I think it was a little farther east and north of the equator. I think Lilliput was Malaysia! Why? Well, read on.

First, Lilliput was full of little people, just like Malaysians, with their tiny brains. If you don't believe me, I suggest you buy any of our daily newspapers (a habit you gave up years ago, I'm sure) and read the headlines, especially what our politicians say. Believe me, they are consistently brilliant and you might keel over and die laughing, so please read it sitting down. Jonathan Kent used to say that this is a laugh-a-minute country. Unfortunately, like Lilliputians, we don't have much of a sense of humour, either. But, we'll come to that.

Lilliput looks calm from the outside, but Gulliver soon learns how vicious the politics are. "There have been two struggling parties in this empire, under the names of Tramecksan and Slamecksan, from the high and low heels of their shoes, by which they distinguish themselves. It is alleged, indeed, that the high heels are most agreeable to our ancient constitution; but, however this may be, his majesty hath determined to make use only of low heels in the administration of the government ... The animosities between these two parties run so high, that they will neither eat nor drink nor talk with each other.”

Off-beat cha cha king

I almost fell of my chair laughing out loud at that. I couldn't get a vision of Ibrahim Ali balancing in high heels out of my head!

Another line says: “We apprehend his imperial highness, the heir to the crown, to have some tendency towards the high heels; at least, we can plainly discover that one of his heels is higher than the other, which gives him a hobble in his gait.” Now, who might that be trying to please both sides, and wobbling? (I remember someone from my university days everyone called the off-beat cha cha king. It was a cruel joke because he did have a limp. But anyone you asked was sure he was a government mole.)

And, there were deep religious differences, too. Wars broke out often, between people who believed that eggs should be cracked at the big end, and those who believed that such doctrines were blasphemous and offended "against a fundamental doctrine of our great prophet Lustrog, in the fifty-fourth chapter of the Blundecral (their holy book)". Sounds familiar? Read anything about the Jakim scripted mosque sermons on the internet, and you will understand.

Bringing up children

1. "Their (Lilliputians') opinion is, that parents are the last of all others to be trusted with the education of their own children; and, therefore, they have, in every town, public nurseries, where all parents, except cottagers and labourers, are obliged to send their infants of both sexes to be reared and educated. ” In Malaysia, parents are not qualified to bring up children either. We have maids, kindergartens for two-year-olds, and television.

2. “Their parents are suffered to see them only twice a year; the visit to last but an hour; they are allowed to kiss the child at meeting and parting; but a professor, who always stands by on those occasions, will not suffer them to whisper, or use any fondling expressions, or bring any presents of toys, sweetmeats, and the like.” Malaysians have dawn-to-dusk tuition, so we don't have see our children at all, until they are old enough to have some of their own!

3. And in the political sphere, succession to political office was handled thus: “When a great office is vacant, either by death or disgrace (which often happens) five or six of those candidates petition the emperor to entertain his majesty, and the court, with a dance on the rope, and whoever jumps the highest without falling, succeeds in the office. ” Somersaults scored more points.

Certainly better than annual party conventions! At least, there will be no chairs thrown about.

The Song not the Singer

The following is credited to Charlie Redmayne, HarperCollins UK chief executive in The Guardian:

Take storytelling back from digital rivals: "Publishers have historically been the most innovative and creative of organisations," he said. "But I think that when it came to the digital revolution we came to a point where we stopped innovating and creating. We thought, we've done an ebook and that is what it is." "Have others stolen a march on us? Yes, absolutely. There are now people competing with us who five or 10 years ago were not on our radars."

It would have been laughable, were it not so sad. Let's examine this statement line by line.

"Publishers have historically been the most innovative and creative of organisations." Really?

From what I know, the oldest form of storytelling was through song. And many have survived till today. In some parts of India, the Ramayana sung millenniums ago still survives. Even today, the song is still a powerful form of storytelling. Billions don't read, but they sing and listen to music.

Then came drama -- the modern incarnations of which are the television and the cinema, which are often panned by the snobs for their lowest common denominator appeal. Sure, there are plenty of trashy shows, just as there are trashy books (which millions like). But there are also artful movies, although some of them can bore you to tears, just like some 'literary novels' that have won major prizes. (Watch the video attached, and decide which part of digital you don't like. It's an ad by Google India, and try to watch it without the English transcripts. Language is optional in good storytelling.)

Storytelling through writing is a bit of a Johnny-come-lately. For one thing, writing started long after the song and the theatre. Besides, it would have been a little inconvenient to lug around stone tablets, and reproducing them buy hand was a little tiring. (Can you imagine their carpel-tunnel-syndromes!) So, writing took off in earnest only about 600 years ago. But it was quite a spectacular début, well deserving of a fireworks display. Then everything went crazy in the 1990s.

"But I think that when it came to the digital revolution we came to a point where we stopped innovating and creating." Again. Really?

The sad truth is that the book industry became a greedy eyed monster that lost the plot. That's when it stopped innovating. First it became a major industry in the 90s and attracted all sorts of riff-raff who wanted to make quick money. (Remember Borders?) It became no longer about the love of books or knowledge. It was about the money. It was run by CEOs who openly and proudly admitted that they did not read. It was probably the only major industry in the world that is run by such a large number of people -- manufacturers, distributors and retailers -- with absolutely zero product and customer knowledge, while rest of us, who love and understand books, were trampled upon and left to eat dirt.

Let's get this right. It is not print versus the digital. It is about print and digital. Just like the coexistence of fast- and slow-food restaurants catering for different palates, and the radio, the CD, and digital downloads living in the same music universe, so does print and digital. It's called evolution. But, digital is where Silicon Valley was in the 80s. And, we ain't seen nothing yet!

In a recent conference in the UK called Futurebooks organised by The Bookseller recently, there were two (seemingly opposing) view: Jamie Bing, Managing Director at Canongate – a Scottish indie publisher, told attendees that Canongate had reduced its output from 78 to 40 titles per year and that he would like to reduce it further to 20 titles per year, so that every book would get twice the attention and be twice as good. That is, publish fewer but but better books. I can understand that perfectly, and I salute Jamie Bing for saying it aloud.

I read a report not too long ago that our of 150,000 (or so) new titles in the UK, only 3000 made it to Waterstones -- where they were given 6 months to perform, or else. What happened to the rest, no one knows. Now, they have an alternative. Go direct-to-digit. Won't be worse. At least, save some trees.

The other argument is that books need to be published faster, that it can take up to 12 months for a title to to reach the public. To me, these are not opposing arguments. The are part of the same. If you publish less, you can get the important one's out more quickly.

Live and let live.

Another interesting story in Wired.com recently said that Amazon is now letting indie bookstores sell its Kindle tablets, in a best of both worlds deal: customers get Kindles, and the stores get a 10 per cent cut when customers use the tablet to buy books. WTF! You kidding me? Of course, the indie publishers are sneering at you. Okay, now make that 35%, and let's talk. And maybe, Amazon, you should drop your live-and-let-die business model, or is that too much to ask?

Redmayne also asked: Have others stolen a march on us? Yes, absolutely. There are now people competing with us who five or 10 years ago were not on our radars.

It would be wonderful to have all your competitors on your radar, wouldn't it? It would be wonderful if anyone who wants to get into the industry should be approved and suitably qualified (like in Germany) or at least well read. Incredibly, that was the way it was for 600 years, that is, until less than 20 years ago! Mr Redmayne, you should know what happened in 1995. A herd of elephants spotted a rich sugar-cane plantation, started stampeding towards it, trampling over and killing thousands of dedicated workers, and are now complaining about another herd that has come to feed, too. Wonders of democracy!

By the way, Mr Redmayne, do you read?

Staying foolish

Steve Jobs famously said, "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish!" He also said, "Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition."

I had some visitors over for Diwali, parents, grandparents like me, who were glibly quoting Jobs, saying how they knew a lawyer who gave up his lawyer-ing and now makes a lot of money ... I wanted to laugh, but decided to just smile instead. "Would you have let your son, your daughter, drop out of school?" I asked.

"No lah. Just saying." They didn't stop there, but went on talking about other stories in the same vein. I told them to buy a lottery ticket.

How we love reading and talking about our gods, and imagining their lives; living it vicariously. Life is difficult, and parents have a hard enough time choosing names for their children that their off-springs will not scold them for, a few years hence.

I was reading another story that said Malaysian parents considered money spent on tuition as money well spent. Some years ago, another parent told me that he opposed a single-session school system because his children would then have no time for tuition. These sentiments are not new. Even our part-time housekeeper, who can barely make ends meet, goes into debt paying for cram schools her children attend. (I went to school in the sixties in a small town where tuition classes were not yet fashionable. Only the dumb kids attended them. Which also meant I had plenty of time to stay foolish! As for hunger, I read like hell.)

Life has been all laid out for us. We cram like hell during our school and college years, so we can spend the rest of our lives as galley slaves in corporations, earning salaries that will allow us to consume like hell, and, hence, return the money to those who gave it to us in the first place -- albeit, in a roundabout way. And, all the time, we'll continue to complain and dream about our gods. All  parents want, is for their children to succeed (whatever that means), and to do it in a way that does not bring them shame or trouble, or, at least, they don't hear about it. (Go to another country and if you want to create trouble!) Is that too much to ask?

So-oo Asian, the American media have lectured us for years. Yet, at no time in history, and in no country other than the US, have so many people been so totally enslaved, working their butts off for meagre rewards, spending everything they earn, consuming mindlessly, totally incapable of making a living with their own hands or through enterprise. (For my son's graduation in the US, the 'official' photographs were taken by a national conglomerate that had 300 universities in its portfolio. Photographs during my graduation were taken by a dozen roving photo-studio operators from KL and PJ, including Kedai Gambar Ah Meng.)

With the chances of becoming a Jobs or a Gates being next to none, is a life sentence all there is for us? Sure, grown men no longer have to live in fear of the whip, but that doesn't mean the reign of terror and bully is over. Intimidation is more subtle now. We started off as hunter-gatherers who shared food and protected one another against the elements and predators. Then we became civilised, and, with it, started the process of enslavement and abuse. What an irony?!

So, what is this piece all about? Ah yes, about staying hungry and foolish, and, I might add, staying young.  You may think that the foolishness I am getting at are the risks some people take to make money. In which case, I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing. It's another form of it that I so admire; the foolishness to dare to imagine a better world and to go after it. The foolishness that drives our willingness to take on the likes of Ibrahim Ali with a video on YouTube, to take on a man who is reportedly proud that someone called him a Nazi. Yes, I have much respect for the young people behind That Effing Show. Stay young guys, and stay foolish and hungry. And maybe this country will have a future. Parents, will you allow your kids to produce an effing show? Or will you simper and kowtow in embarrassment because your children are causing so much 'trouble', and let others call them budak (kids) and kurang ajar (badly brought up)? Aren't we well past that?

Maybe, that's what Jobs meant: foolishness is the perfect antidote for idiocy.

Back from Frankfurt

It was a pretty good haul this year, with requests for nearly thirty manuscripts from Germany, France, Italy and Turkey. Not to count chickens, but a two-and-a-half-dozen egg haul is pretty good considering the 'soft' book market, and small inquiries in the last two years. Isa Kamari, Farish A Noor, Rozlan Mohd Noor, and Shih-Li Kow were amongst the authors who attracted the most interest (and Shih-Li's new book has not even been published yet)! But, while Singapore's NAC provides translation grants, Malaysia does not (and certainly not for books in English), so Malaysian books might be slightly handicapped.

In general, at the Bookfair, despite all the grumbling, the industry didn't seem all that soft; well, not in Halls 3 to 6 at any rate, but at Hall 8.0 the exhibits looked a little sad and crowds noticeably smaller this year. But then, Hall 8.0 has always looked a little sad when compared with the others, design-wise. This year, about 20% of the hall was devoted to digital content, and the rest was described by one Italian publisher as rubbish. For those who are wondering, Hall 8.0 is the largest, and where all the Anglo-American publishers are; that is, it is the hall for mainstream books in English. (Picture shows a 'wall of books' erected at a German stand.)

The publisher I had an appointment with in Hall 8.0 confirmed that there were fewer trade visitors at their hall this year. She said that things were slower. It was quite an interesting appointment, this one. I got an email from her asking for an appointment at Frankfurt. I had never met her before. She had a Russian sounding name and I do find European book designs and subject matter quite fascinating. In a subsequent email, she suggested Hall 8.0 for the meeting. I should have known better. Enough people have warned me over the years about Hall 8.0, that they were only interested in selling not buying, that they were not interested in trade.

When I walked into their stand for the meeting, I realised that they were really children's-book publishers, and we are not. I told her (I am not mentioning any names, here) that I did not publish children's books (why did she email me then?), but I knew a friend who did. I asked if I could take away some catalogues, which she readily agreed, and gave me two printed ones and a CD containing their full list. I asked her what type of books she would be interested in; "Folk tales, or stories of indigenous people?"  She replied, quite directly, "Oh, we only sell, not buy," whereupon we shook hands and I left. There was really no point in prolonging the conversation.

When I asked her for the catalogues earlier, I had been serious about passing them onto a friend. But after hearing her reply, I decided to simply toss it. I mean, "Why should I?" With that kind of attitude, why should I bother to help her? Maybe, that's why the traffic in Hall 8.0 was so slow!

At an earlier meeting with another publisher, this time from Turkey, the visitor went through our list and requested PDF versions of several titles to be sent to her by email. Then, I asked for her list, which she showed me. Out of many, I saw three titles, detective stories, which I felt might be of interest to Malaysian readers. I asked her for a copy of her catalogue, to pass on to Arief of PTS, and he was delighted. This is what trade is about. This is what networking is about. Unfortunately, publishers from Britain and the US are not quite clear on that concept.

Notwithstanding all that, Frankfurt is a fantastic place to be. You will have no idea how big the book industry is until you have seen it.

Oh, by the way, a Malaysian publishing industry leader told me that the London Book Fair is no different from Hall 8.0. So, I guess I shall give it a miss.

We are the sum of what others think of us

We received an email yesterday with the subject, "I am Alvin Tan, the man the media loves to hate." Yes, the same Alvin Tan who uploaded pictures of himself and his girlfriend on the internet and got into trouble in Singapore, and the 'buka puasa' photo, which got him into trouble in Malaysia. (The email was BCCed to Silverfish Books, so we assume he has sent it to other publishers as well.) He also sent several links to newspaper articles about the ... er ... his events, in case we didn't know who he is. I couldn't help but smile. It seemed like this guy now wants to make some money out of it all (maybe to pay his legal costs).

The email was about a proposal for a book (yes a proposal, not a manuscript) he wants to write, with chapter headings and links to Facebook notes. I would have normally rejected emails like this outright, because I'm only interested in completed manuscripts. But I decided to look at his Facebook page, because such people are often immensely talented, and I am really not interested in their personal lives, no matter what I think about them.  Maybe we'll discover a new literary genius, I thought.

Unfortunately, not. Aiyoh! Our friend is a regular Aunt Agony, lah! His writings are on parenting, self-improvement, media management, social skills, dating, etc. A bit ironic, that. But that's not the reason we sent him a  rejection letter. We don't publish self-help, or motivation, or business.

When I told someone about this inquiry I was met with the response,"Why would anyone even consider publishing a book by 'this stupid child'." Why not? Who am I to judge him? Hey, I don't care if he's a porn star if he writes well! As a publisher, our friends often decide what type of books we publish, or don't.

A shopkeeper's life isn't easy either. Our customers like to decide what we should and should not sell. One customer, who came last week, said that he attended one of our events some years ago and left with the impression that Silverfish Books was a 'lefty' hangout! He was appalled at the anti-government rhetoric. "They can only see it from one point of view." Oh boy! I wanted to tell him that not all our events, or customers, are like that, but decided not to say anything. As a shopkeeper, I had to shut up, no matter what, and keep my thoughts to myself. And, let him think I agree.

We have a few customers who do get carried away sometimes, especially at events. They are a minority, but noisy enough to send out wrong signals. The truth is whatever they say. This was particularly scary just before the last general elections. Hey, this is Bangsar, okay? I was afraid I'd get beaten up if I had a contrarian view about anything, and I was certainly not going to tell them that some of my very intelligent customers were ministers and wives from, yes, the blue half! (Even, if they leave me gob-smacked a week later, due to some statement in the press.) I have met some lovely people from that group, but don't tell them that. (Oh dear, are some people going to stop coming?!)

As a friend, we sometimes feel that we're not entitled to an opinion, and that we should agree no matter how wrong and silly the argument. Boo hoo hoo, how can you say that? I thought you were my friend. You should agree with me. Well, you should try becoming a shopkeeper then, particularly of a bookshop. Have you read this, have you read that, what do you think? If it is a local book ... you die, man, no matter what! Tell me now! Right now! What's you're opinion of this? And it had better be the right answer!

Bookshops and publishers are the sum total of whatever their customers think they are. We can't possibly have another opinion, or, God forbid, disagree. That would not be allowed.

Life is so-oo difficult.

Who are these Xlibris people?

An author whose latest manuscript I'm working on asked me the question above. I said I had heard the name before, but I really didn't know. This was about a month ago. He said he got a call from someone claiming to be from Xlibris Australia (she talked funny, so he believed her) and started giving him some hard sell about why he should publish with them. It was the usual: worldwide reach, thousands of copies, etc, etc.

'How did they get my number? How do they even know me?" he asked.

The question is easy to answer in these days of Google. The first one stumped me. "Not from us, I said unnecessarily."

"I know that." I thought he sounded a little annoyed that we thought he would even think we'd give his contact to anyone without his permission.

A week ago when we met again, he said that they were hounding him again. "They have called me four times, including two calls to my wife at home." They were all again from Australia and the usual hard sell: why go to a small publisher, we are international; don't you want to sell 50,000 books? We do e-books, too."

I told my author that if they promise him 50,000 copies, ask them for an advance instead of paying for their services. MYR100,000 thousand will be nice, thank you! MYR200,000 thousand, would be better. But, that's not going to happen, is it?

I am surprised at two things. One, how did they get so much information on the author? Do they have commission agents or spies or scouts in Malaysia? In any case, phone calls to someone's house, to me, borders on intrusion and bad ethics. Two, why are they so desperate? Is the self-publishing market that cut-throat? Or are they merely playing the volume game: print thousands of books in the hope of finding the next Fifty Shades? And what better way to do that than getting the authors to absorb publishing costs themselves. As P T Barnum famously said, "There's a sucker born every minute."

I decided to google them. The first entry was their official website. I found a quote on the sponsored link that said, "As of 2000, The New York Times stated it to be the foremost on-demand publisher." Okay. The next link was to their on-line book-store. The third link, a Wikipedia entry, was probably written by them, too. The fourth was the first independent link. It was from GoodReads, from one Mrs D whose basic message was: beware, Xlibris is a POD publisher from hell with bad  editing and are unprofessional. The 'comments' section was revealing. I saw one from a Rueben (who appears to work for Xlibris), "I notice that your concern with the poor level of service, and professionalism didn't detrimental you from using them for your other books." Wow! Fantastic! Is he a recent English graduate from a Malaysian university?! Doesn't quite boost you confidence in their editing, does it."

Okay, that's not fair. Maybe, they are not always that bad. They are probably better, although it's scary to think that they could be worse. Whatever it is, beware. POD publishers are on the prowl promising you riches. This Forbes story (August 1, 2013) puts it in perceptive:

"Here’s the problem with self-publishing: no one cares about your book. That’s it in a nutshell. There are somewhere between 600,000 and 1,000,000 books published every year in the US alone, depending on which stats you believe. Many of those – perhaps as many as half or even more – are self-published. On average, they sell less than 250 copies each. Your book won’t stand out. Hilary Clinton’s will. Yours won’t.

So self-publishing is an exercise in futility and obscurity. Of course, there are the stories of the writers who self-publish and magic happens and they sell millions of books, but those are the rare exceptions. How rare? Well, on the order of 1 or 2 per million."

The good news is that the figure was 125 copies (according to the New York Times) in 2003, up 100% in ten years. (The latest figure probably takes Fifty Shades into account.)

Consider this: If an average POD customer pays USD2000.00 to publish a title, and 300,000 of these are published ever year (conservatively), that will make it a USD600,000,000 industry in the US. Is that all? I must have got my sums wrong. The total size of the book industry in the US in 2012 was USD 15 billion.

Oh, by the way, google 'Xlibris complaints' for lots and lots of dirt.

Why we publish

I had a meeting in Singapore recently with personnel of the National Arts Council over there. It appears that they liked some of the work Silverfish Books is doing and asked if we would collaborate on more projects in future. Of course, we'd like to collaborate, I said, but I'm very picky. I added that, to Silverfish Books, there was no such thing as 'good enough'. If a work was considered'good enough' than it was not 'good enough'. It is either good or bad. (My friend Joan told me that years ago.) There is simply no point in becoming champion of Subang Jaya.

Anyway, that, at least, is our ideal. When Silverfish Books started publishing, we set out to put Malaysian writing in English on the world literary map. (We hoped Malay and Chinese literature would be handled by others because that was not our core competence.) That we have done to a certain extent. (Apparently, the Silverfish Books' 'footprint' in several School of Oriental Studies in international universities is 'huge', according to some travelling academics. So, we have the 'fame', but I can't help thinking that a bit of 'fortune' would be good too!)

That was the other reason I was in Singapore. NAC has given us money to translate, edit and print a series of books. And they want to us to do more, their only condition being they have to be Singaporean authors. Is that selling my soul to the devil?

The kaya syndrome

I grew up in Johor Bahru and Singapore was my backyard (or the front-yard, depending on which direction you faced when you woke up). I have friends and relatives in Singapore. We share common experiences, at the non-political level at least (although some in Malaysia may regard that as almost blasphemy). But, most importantly, they are willing to give me money to help establish Singapore literature to the world, and they are serious. What are the chances of Silverfish Books (or any other independent publisher) getting assistance from any such institution in Malaysia? Are there any we can take seriously? (I can hear all sorts of sarcastic remarks coming up, but you get my point.)

To Malaysian government institutions, anyone in business is kaya, rich. And this kaya syndrome is killing the country. They have no idea about the sacrifices we make (not to mention our frequent 14-15 hour days). They think we exist to support them, when it should be the other way round. They cannot understand that without businesses, government servants won't get paid.

Why we write

So why do we persist? It's almost like the plot of a Bruce Willis Die Hard movie (but then he always win in the end). I recently read an article on Why we write? George Orwell listed the reasons as sheer egoism, aesthetic enthusiasm, historical impulse and political purpose. Others have suggested other reasons like: an access to her own mind (Joan Didion); for fun (David Foster Wallace); to find a gateway from the darkness to light (Joy Williams); springing from the soul like a rocket (Charles Bukowski); and for the comfort of belonging to a collective enterprise (Italo Calvino), amongst others.

Strange, how all this applies to publishing, and I guess to many other enterprises except maybe crass commerce where the only motivator is greed. Okay, here I go:

• Publish good Malaysian works that will last for years, no decades -- sheer egoism (Orwell)
• For the enormous buzz something good creates -- aesthetic enthusiasm (Orwell)
• Record snapshots of history before it's all lost -- historical impulse (Orwell)
• Says something important about us -- political purpose (Orwell)
• Says something new about ourselves that we didn't know (or shut out) for whatever reason -- access to our mind (Joan Didion)
• For entertainment -- for fun (David Foster Wallace)
• For empathy and acceptance -- darkness to light (Joy Williams)
• For the 'wow' factor -- like a rocket from the soul (Charles Bukowski)
• Stories about us -- for the comfort of belonging to a collective enterprise (Italo Calvino)

So, there. Like the good troubadour said: If my thought-dreams could be seen, they'd probably put my head in a guillotine.

Whatever has happened to Malay literature?

I was in Frankfurt in 2009 attending an invitation programme where one of the conditions of attendance was the compulsory 2-week period of seminars and forums. Not all were bad. One of the speakers and attendee was a gentleman from Haiti, one Mr Willems Edouard of Presses Nationales d'Haiti; a personable man, I must say. He spoke about a programme in Haiti to make books available to the masses cheaply by having a government organisation publishing and selling them directly. Most attendees were horrified. What will happen to the private publishers?  How will booksellers survive? How will the industry continue to exist? I didn't say much at the forum, because even if I was there on my own, I did represent my country in a way, and it would have been hypocritical. But I talked to him afterwards. We do the same in Malaysia, I said, and it is a disaster.

Fast forward to 2013. Malaysian authors in English and (I have been told) Chinese have attained considerable international recognition. But whatever has happened to Malay literature? There is some interesting work going on in the fringes (which is very encouraging), but they thrive despite the system, not because of it. And, it even appears, Malay literature is alive and well in Singapore! I tried to come up with the names of a few current Malay literary figures off the top of my head and came up with Faisal Tehrani, and ... er ... and what's that?  Ombak rindu? Cintamu-cintaku novels? Sorry, no comment!

Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka

Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka was formed Johor Baru on June 22, 1956, as a department of the Education Ministry to promote Malay as the national and official language of the soon to be independent nation. I had just started school at that time and I remember the euphoria. We (the school children) were required to participate in all sorts of events and I remember one of my classmates collapsing dramatically on stage (due to nerves) just as he was about to start his rehearsed speech. It was fun.

Then in 1959, with the DBP ordinance, it be came a autonomous government statutory (what an oxymoron?!) body tasked with, one, determining and implementing its own policies, (two) implement programs to promote language and literature (in Malay), and, three, to get involved competitively in the book trade. There was much energy and enthusiasm in the early years. Malay literary luminaries who walked the corridors of DBP included Keris Mas, Baha Zain, Usman Awang, Kemala, Abdullah Hussein, Shamsuddin Jaafar, Anwar Rithwan, Syed Jaafar Husin, Suhaimi Haji Muhammad, Sutung Umar R.S. and Dinsman, amongst others and who were also writers in their own right. And as a schoolboy, I would hear many of those names and the likes of Arena Wati, S Othman Kelantan, Shannon Ahmad and A Samad Said, and recognise them as writers of awe and repute. That was the period before the nineties when Malay literature lived. The subject matter featured prominently in their work was mainly post-colonial angst and schmaltzy nationalism, which is understandable for the times.

"If we don´t succeed, we run the risk of failure"... George W. Bush

57 years later, in the new millennium, there are large numbers of Malaysians who still cannot (or will not) ask for the price of vegetables at the Bangsar night market in Malay. (Okay, maybe, Bangsar is different county. Still?)

Not long ago (I think it was about 2 years) Amir had this story to tell. He was on a television talk-show with some others, and the host asked a guest, a local university professor type, who his favourite author was. A Samad Said, came the reply. Amir said he almost fell off his chair. (The good author might have been flattered, but mortified too.) Hasn't he read anything else? He told the host that his was Sufian Abas of Kasut Biru Rubina fame. There would be many who'd object to that anecdote indignantly with a 'so what'. I have another story for that. A friend who claims that his favourite author is William Shakespeare, from whose work he'd spew quotes at the slightest provocation. He's weird, I used to think. Then, I learned that he had never read a play by the bard, not watched a performance. He, however, had memorised a book of quotes. Yes, you'd recognise him. He'd be the one trying to speak to the makcik selling pisang goreng at the night market in English or in really bad Malay!

So, whose fault is it? DBP? They have certainly failed in two out of their three objectives. Could it be they have they not been allowed to do their job? (That wouldn't be surprising.) Why do we have so many government and quasi-government bodies involved in the book trade, for such a small reading population, anyway? (DBP, MBKM, ITBM, Kota Buku ... But, the news coming out is not good: territoriality, empire building, back-biting, sabotage, you name it.)

If you have been given a job and have not succeeded after more than half a century, should that be considered failure? This is not about calling someone's baby ugly. This is about telling someone that the baby he or she is dandling is dead, and has been for a while, and no amount of stout denials is going to bring it back to life. Question is: should they even be allowed to look after babies anymore?

According to the Malaysian norm, for failed institutions in the country, DBP will be allowed another 50 years to do more of the same? Do they deserve the extension of time? Will they be allowed to change? To do the job they have been set up to do? To progress?

Why I hate some books

I was reading this story in Bookriot.com called What are your Book Dealbreakers when I wondered, "What is it about some books that I hate?" I am frequently ask, what I consider to be a good book, and find myself speechless for a while. Could it be something as simple as prejudice? In which case I would have wasted my entire life. There would be no difference between a child's scribblings and a Michaelangelo! No difference between an English 1119 standard essay masquerading as manuscript that I often receive and a Garcia Marquez! But that's another story.

When I was younger, I would read every book I started from cover to cover, but life it too short for that now. There are books I'd stop reading after the first page, after the first 10 pages, the first 50 pages or even after reading it half way through. I have even stopped reading after the first paragraph! (A bit drastic, you would think, but I prefer to trust my instincts.)

What would a book dealbreaker be for me? What would make me not buy a book, not continue reading it, or even toss it across the room part of the way through it. (I meant the last metaphorically, but I know of friends who have done that literally.)  Let me try to remember.

1. Train wrecks. Ah yes, A Fine Balance by Rohington Mistry was probably the first book I didn't bother to finish.  God, was it a train wreck?! One misery after another, it was relentless. I could here those mat sallehs going, "Oh, it's so-oo Indian." Yes, like a bad Indian movie! And I have seen enough of those as a kid. I gave up after the vasectomy turned castration scene (although I think I deserved a medal for even getting that far.)

2. Gratuitous rape scenes -- including boys. (No, rape is not entertainment). House of Blue Mangoes by David Davidar.  Imagine this: A group of girls are walking to the temple, and they come across a group of boys: result, rape. God!!! Another Indian movie plot. (Part 3 of Interlock was like that too.) Do western readers really like this shit?

3. Gratuitous incest and homosexuality. God of Small Things by Arundhathi Roy. What was that incest scene all about? I didn't toss this book, still I asked. (I asked a friend, a good reader, about it thinking it was perhaps only my hangup. She said she wondered about it, too. She is also the friend who told me that there are only good books and bad books.)

4. Bad research. Life of Pi by Yann Martel. First, there was a Tamil boy called Patel. What? Are all Indians Patels? Have you lived in London too long? Then, there was the corny dialogue between the imam, the pundit and the priest. I came this close to tossing the book.

5. Bad similes. Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai. "... the weight of South African diamonds, so great, so heavy, that one day, from one ear, ear-ring ripped through, a meteor disappearing with a bloody clonk into her bowl of srikhand." Arghhh!!! Yes, I confess, I tossed that book.

6. Bad beginnings. This is really related to item 5 above -- bad similes. (No book title will be mentioned here though.) An island is like to a bubble escaping from a birds throat? I put this book quietly to one side. No, there was no need for drama. I simply decided not to read any further. Less said the better.

7. Bad genre labels. Chick Lit. How can I even get close to a book that describes itself as Chick Lit. (Like a restaurant that calls itself Papa Rich, which to me sounds way too close to Sugar Daddy!) I squirm just thinking about it. I'm going to need a bath after this! No genre has put me off like it has. How demeaning can you get? (Where are the women's libbers when you need them?!)

8. Exotic Asia. I avoid these like diseases after reading Joy Luck Club. "It is so-oo touching." Pul-lease.

Yes, most of them are books by Indian authors in who write in English, but this is just a list off the top of my head. I guess there are enough dumb mat sallehs who like this kind of exotic India to create an industry out of it. Now it's all about Fifty Shades of Grey and soft porn. I keeping away from them like I did with Chick Lit.

What? You still think the book industry is created for and by intelligent people? That only clever people read books? Think again. Just remember that the last best seller was a badly written soft porn. (The smart ones are those tip-toeing around the manure to pick the lovely flowers and fruits, trying not to step on the crap or get it onto their clothes.)

An Egyptian/Welsh author I met recently said, "I can't complain though; Fifty Shades is probably paying for my book."

Copyright makes important books disappear

This is not new, people have complained about copyright laws for a long time. Many customers coming into Silverfish asking for books published in the country in the 60s and 70s, which are now out of print. We would apologise and point them in the direction of antiquarian bookstores in London, and feel thoroughly stupid about it. These are Malaysian books, good books, and should be in print, even if only POD, and should be in the country.

"Why don't you republish it," they would ask. The reply to that, in a word, is 'copyright'. The publishers have disappeared and no one knows where the author is. Still, the work remains protected! Not unlike the dog in the manger story that we heard when we were children.

Copyright registration?

The copyright regime is a weird. Unlike patents, you do not have to register it, you do not have to prove it is yours, yet no one else can touch.

We understand that copyright laws are about allowing the author to exploit the full commercial potential of a book. But happens though if the author and his publisher are no longer interested in it, or even dead? Out of hundreds of thousands of books published every year, only a tiny fraction remains in print after five years. And, after ten years, next to none. Only the very famous will still sell their books in any numbers to make it commercially exploitable. So, imagine the situation after 30, 40 or 50 years. The tragedy is that thousands of very important mid-level works go unread and unpublished for generations, and are hence forgotten.

In the US and Europe a work is currently copyright protected for 70 years after the death of the author, and they are working on extending it. In Malaysia, the copyright remains with the author's estate for 50 years after the death of the author. (If there is anyone out there with better knowledge of Malaysian copyright laws, please butt in.)

If copyright were treated like private property, it would be a leasehold house, where the owner would be allowed in as long as he is alive. Then his heir(s) would inherit it, but only for the remaining duration of the lease. The heir might subsequently want to apply to renew the lease, subject to approval by the state. Under copyright laws, a new lease is automatically granted, even if he (or she) is not interested. Firstly, why do the heirs deserve this hand-me-down? What did they do? Secondly, does such work not belong to the people? Is it not the cultural heritage of a nation? (Am I beginning to sound like a communist here? Have to be careful these days.)

Life would be so much simpler if copyright had to be registered and renewed at regular intervals for a fee to the state (or other body) if any party still wants to keep his interest alive. If the Library of Congress can register every damned book ever published, why not copyright?  For scholars, researchers and the public, this would be a gold mine, even if the majority of the works might be nothing more than paper lama.

Censorship by other means

We are such a young country, and yet we have already lost so much. We do not know where many authors or the publishers are, let alone their next of kin, and the works cannot be reprinted because it is still protected. Some people in the government would prefer many works to disappear because of inconvenient truths they might reveal. Since book-burning would be frowned upon (although many have no problems with openly advocating it) for reasons of politics, and, not to mention, haze mitigation, wilful benign neglect (by not allocating funds, for example) and incompetence (having civil servants look after priceless old manuscripts, or sell as kacang puteh wrapper) have almost become the accepted modus operandi.

In any context, this would be censorship by other means. (Does anyone know where the original Jawi manuscripts of Hikayat Hang Tuah and Merong Mahawangsa are?)

In a recent study by Professor Paul J. Heald (picture), of the University of Illinois College of Law, and visiting professor at the Centre for Intellectual Property Policy & Management (CIPPM) at Britain’s Bournemouth University, it was reported that, “A random sample of new books for sale on Amazon.com shows three times more books initially published in the 1850’s are for sale than new books from the 1950’s."

So, not surprisingly, copyright makes books disappear. And also music. (Read the full text of the paper here.) Powerful copyright lobbyists advocate ever longer terms of copyright protection for fear that when copyright expires, the work loses its owner, and it falls into the public domain. Er, so? Isn't that where it belongs? Anyway, even if copyright protection is extended, what's the problem with registering and renewing it so everyone knows? The monopolists would benefit too.

We have heard this many times before: if you love it, set it free. This should include copyright.

A dumbo's guide: create e-books (epub and mobi) from .doc files for free

Okay, so this is not entirely an opinion piece, but I cannot let it go without having a say, can I? Contrary to what most people think, the e-book scene out there is a wild jungle. It's also terribly fragmented, and is changing rapidly. That's not surprising as e-books are still new and evolving, except for the pdf format which has been with us for a long time. But the problem with it is that it is formatted page-by-page and so the text doesn't flow continuously, and does not take different page sizes without making it impossible to read. Mobi and Epub formats, are more tolerant of page-size variations, but images must be anchored to the text for them to appear at approximately the right positions.

Still, making your own e-books is a good way for giving away, sharing or selling (yes, you read that right) that book you have just completed for absolutely free. You read that right, too! You can send it to anyone with a mobile phone, tablet or a Kindle. Distribution, too, is free if you send it as an email attachment. Anyway, there are many online marketing tools out there. Google it, or ask a friend. But, here's what you will need for now.

1. The masterpiece you have written in Word format. (Other word-processing programs should work as well.)
2. Download Calibre and install it. It is an open-source program, and is free, which means it's available for OSX, Windows and Linux.
3. Download Sigil and install it. It is also open-source and free, and available for Windows and Mac. This program will allow you to tweak the format of the EPUB to make it look nicer before you send it out.
(Added information: Apple uses EPUB, Amazon uses MOBI, and they don't talk to one another.)

Step One: Save your Word file as .rtf (Rich Text Format). (You can also save it as a HTML (HyperText Markup Language) file, used for creating web pages and other information that can be displayed in a web browser. But, if you're a non-geek and this freaks you out, don't have to take this route. On the other hand, if you're a geek already, go on ahead; you don't need this primer.)

Step Two: Open Calibre. (The image shows what it would look like with all the books you have added. If you have not added any, you'll only see the Calibre Quick Start Guide.)

Step Three: Add the newly created .rtf file by either using the 'Add' option (top right) or drag-and-drop the file into the white space.

Step Four: Edit metadata (no need to freak out now). Highlight the newly imported file, and click the second from left button. Here, you can add the author's name, year of publication, publisher, and anything else you want (or ignore it all, if you don't.) Click OK.

Step Five: With the new file still highlighted, click the third button. This is where the magic happens. Like it says, it will convert your book. The source type (RTF) will show on the top right. Select the destination type (EPUB) on the top left pull-down. Click 'OK' and viola! (You will see a revolving wheel at the bottom left, and how long it will take will depend on the size of the file -- very quick, at any rate.)

Step Six: (Sorry, not over yet.) Click 'Save file', third from right on top, and choose your destination, wherever you like. Your EPUB is done (almost). Click 'View' (fourth from left) to see what it looks like. If you like what you see, it's done. If the format looks like a dog's breakfast, and that you can introduce more spaces, or align-centre, etc., go to the next step.

Step Seven: Launch Sigil, open the EPUB file you created above, and do some minor formatting to make it look better. It is quite intuitive, not unlike a basic word-processor. Save and close after you're done. (No matter how hard you try, you will not get it to look like a book published on paper -- not with current technology anyway -- unless you go the pdf route.)

Step Eight: Add the new EPUB file to your Calibre library, (I suggest you delete the old one to avoid confusion), highlight it, and convert to MOBI just like the process above. You can read the .mobi file in Calibre too, by highlighting it and clicking 'View'.

Now, enjoy! You can sell it, give it away, upload it on Amazon (Google for instructions and rules) and Apple iPad (ditto). Don't pay any money to those sharks who convert e-books for a fee, unless you want to go professional. That's another story. This is for fun.

(Note about e-book formats: if you want to mess with your mind, visit the following Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comparison_of_e-book_formats)

Book snobs

When someone said (this was sometime ago) about one of our products, she didn't think Silverfish published 'that kind of book', we were gob-smacked. Our first reaction was, "What, what, what?!" as if we had been caught with our pant-zipper down. We were certainly confused. After we calmed, we asked ourselves, "Why did she think we wouldn't publish this?" It was quite obvious that she thought we were a bunch of snobs, but what kind?! It was important to ensure that one stood accused of the right type of snobbery. Then, we laughed.

We have met many types of book snobs in the fourteen years we have been open. Some will come into the shop and declare loudly (as if it makes a difference to us) that they don't read Malaysian books (oh dear), or only read business and management, or self-help, or non-fiction, implying that everything they don't read could be classified as rubbish. One friend even came in and declared that she only read thrash! I love her!

Anyway, going back to the title that upset the madam so much, it was a book of short stories by one author. Nothing embarrassing about that. The stories were anecdotal, but told with plenty of humour. Was humour the problem, then? In all the years we have been reading manuscripts, it is interesting to note that humour is an ingredient that is glaringly missing from Malaysian writing. Strange, isn't it? Yes, we have satirical cartoons and jokes. We love to tell Irish jokes with local minorities featured as characters, not to mention local political ones, but, as a people, we appear to have completely lost our ability to laugh at ourselves. We can laugh at others, but not ourselves. How many Malaysian writers would we regard as funny? Well, Chua Kok Yee is one, although some have remarked, "Aiyoh, why he write like that, one?" completely missing his humour. You know the Hokkien word, "Siow?" That's what Kok Yee is!

But, we have reason to believe what madam really meant was, "It is not literary." Again, "What, what, what?!"

Okay, let's go back a little in history. 'Literary' was a label publishers stuck on books that they otherwise couldn't sell (or as a reaction against Faber which had establishing itself a notch above the rest, at the time). It was, we believe, a trend that started in the late seventies, or thereabouts, and reinforced by the Booker (and other) prizes. It was generally considered to be language driven, as opposed to plot. They came to imply good prose (that beautiful turn of phrase), a slice of life, a pithy statement about the human condition, all told subtly in an understated tale. I was a snob, and I wouldn't read anything else, in the late nineties and the early naughties. To quote my favourite minstrel: 'I was so much older then, but I'm younger than that now'. 

In the last thirty years, Anglophone 'literary' titles have become mere products, another commodity, albeit one with very little appeal amongst most readers (except 'snobs'). General readers have largely abandoned them in droves for sci-fi, fantasy, horror, crime (marginally still acceptable to the L-types), thrillers, chicklit, soft porn, romance, etc, etc, where the money is. Literary books, on the other hand, have increasingly been regarded as boring. Sure, there are many that are still good, but their authors tend to be older, or the usual suspects. Unfortunately, several (including prize-winning ones) appear to be nothing more than exercises in self-gratification. Still, these are products that keep publishing houses looking respectable while they make their money elsewhere (even when they are run by CEOs who publicly -- and infamously -- declare that they do not read). An Arab-American author I met recently said that Fifty Shades was paying for her book! She would not have been published otherwise. (Someone in the industry recently proposed a new 'literary' genre. What? To drive more people away?)

Anyway, this is how we choose books to publish at Silverfish. First, there must be an interesting story, whatever the genre, solidly structured, well argued within its own internal logic, and told with empathy from the points of view of all characters. If you preach, we will reject your work. (We will also reject books on self-help, business & management, academic & text, and teenage angst (no matter how old the writers) with or without an honest reason.) Second, adequate language to convey the meaning of the story. If language skills are better, they should enhance the storytelling and the reader experience, but never stand in the way of comprehension, or shout, "Look at me, look at me. See how clever I am!" Please bear in mind that poor language skills can be fixed; a poor story cannot. (Ironically, the simpler it is, the harder it is to write.) Third, we like writers who do not have a problem with working hard, and are not unwilling to rewrite. (We can suss them out fairly quickly.) And fourth, we like writers who make a difference, who are not afraid to push boundaries, who research their work well, and who are honest.

Yes, the madam was right. We are snobs indeed, but we don't apologise for being interested only in the best of Malaysian literature.

Obsessed with fame

I have always defended young people against criticisms by the old, who accuse them of being lazy, entitled, selfish and shallow. "My customers are mostly young," I protest, "and they read widely." Unfortunately, a recent study appears to show that they may be right, at least with regards to those born in the 1990s. Time magazine calls them the Me Me Me Generation, an entire generation obsessed with themselves and their fake Facebook/Twitter persona. (According to the National Institutes of Health in the US, 58% more college students scored higher on a narcissism scale in 2009 than in 1982.)

I came across two more interesting stories.

The Marshmallow experiment

First from Wikipedia. In an experiment at the Bing Nursery School at Stanford University in the 1960s by psychologist Walter Mischel, children age four to six (over 600 took part) were led into a room and offered the choice of having one small reward (like a marshmallow) immediately, or two if they waited 15 mins. So the children sat looking at their treat after the researcher left the room. Many gave in to temptation very quickly, others took a while and a few managed to get their two treats.

In the follow-up of the experiment, researchers checking in on these same students in high school, found that those with more self-control were better behaved, less prone to addiction, and scored higher on the SAT. (Was it pure self-control or strategic thinking by the nasty little buggers?)

Walter Mischel had run a similar experiment in Trinidad a decade earlier with different ethnic groups of contrasting stereotypes. 53 children in a rural area were given the choice of a 1-cent candy immediately or a better 10-cent one in a week’s time. Mischel reported significant differences due to ethnicity, age, and the absence of a father in the family. Socio-economics didn’t seem to matter. Intact families did.

To many people it would be a no-brainer that self-control leads to productivity and success. Would you rather do the more tempting ‘lepak at the mamak’ every night with friends or work on your novel? Who is more likely to succeed in whatever they choose to do? “I have no time,” is something you’d hear often from those who’d rather waste theirs on phone calls, texting, Facebook, Twitter or whatever (not that they’d see it that way). Jocelyn K. Glei, Editor-in-Chief and Director of 99U, thinks Facebook is the new marshmallow.

G is for Grit

Second, I watched a Youtube video by Angela Lee Duckworth on TED talks, which Jade recommended, on a research she is currently undertaking with children to understand the ingredients of success. Duckworth found  that while self-control was an excellent predictor of ones ability to follow through on some types of difficult tasks, it was not the most important factor when predicting success. She was suspicious of 'talent' and 'intelligence' too. Duckworth research boiled it all down to one essential ingredient she calls 'grit' or “the perseverance and passion for a long-term goal”. Grit is single-mindedness, unwavering dedication, whatever the obstacles, no matter how long it takes.

The media largely attributed Obama's victory in the 2012 elections to the use of social media, particularly Facebook, Twitter and texting. Media has always liked hype because it's sexy and it sells. But reality is quite different. US News says: In a memo released just before Election Day, the Obama campaign claimed it had contacted one out of every 2.5 people in the country since the 2008 election, much of it through personal phone calls or knocking on doors. That number is far and above the 50 million voter contacts the Romney campaign has cited. "The best data for us was things we collected at the doors," Obama campaign manager Jim Messina said. Additionally, Obama.org says that 10,000 volunteers knocked on 7 million doors on the day before the election. Now, that's grit.

And the moral of the story? One might be self-righteously indignant, or even right, but if the message is not sent out, you drop the ball. The urban middle-class can whip themselves up into a frenzy on Facebook, Twitter and other social media where broadband is ubiquitous, but in the rural areas it is done the old fashioned way -- at coffee shops, weddings, births, deaths, circumcisions, thanksgiving religious ceremonies, prayer meetings, kenduris, etc., where any politician worth his salt shows up and becomes part of the community. There is nothing like a real connection. A friend, an expatriate, sent me a photo of a kampong about three weeks before the last elections. It looked like the entire village had been gift-wrapped in blue. Even a cockroach wouldn't have been able to penetrate that fortress if it was not wearing blue. One look at the photograph and I realised that the game was up. I guessed rightly who was going to win this one, whatever the hype.

Nobody like to lose. Supporters of the losing team in football will accuse the referees of bias and/or incompetence, accuse the opponents of 'not playing the ball', and claim they were unfairly denied a penalty. A neutral observer might sympathise with the last if the difference was one goal. What if it is 44? 45 penalties? Can anyone score from every one of them? Or were you simply not prepared, being caught up in the social network hype, and didn't train hard enough?

Did you drop the ball?

Why I don't own a mobile phone

 
I hope this clarifies the question once and for all, though it probably will not. I'm the one without the mobile phone, but my friends, for some reason, are the ones who feel the pain. Some have been on a virtual crusade, with the evangelical zeal of Jehovah Witnesses, to 'save' the recalcitrant non-believer. Others take delight in saying, "I told you so," at the slightest inconvenience arising from my 'stubbornness'.

Truth is, stubbornness has nothing to do with it. I simply value my time and sanity more than others do, I guess. I did own a mobile phone some twelve years ago, but then someone did me a favour by stealing it. I have never been more thankful since.

First, a quantitative analysis. To say that the mobile phone is a 'bloody waste of time' would be an understatement. Let's assume that one makes five phone calls a day, and receives another five. If each call takes ten minutes, that would result in 100 minutes a day spent talking on that stupid instrument. Do I have one hour and forty minutes to waste everyday? What do you think? No, I don't play golf, either. What if each call takes 15 minutes? 20, 25, 30 minutes? (I know of people who can talk for up to an hour each time!) You have a calculator? Figure it out. I think my time and my life is far more important than that. Furthermore, I think it should be made a criminal offense to talk more than one minute on the phone during any call, and waste other people's time. A mandatory death sentence should do it.

Next, a qualitative assessment. It's eight thirty in the morning and I'm in the toilet, doing whatever it is that people do in toilets. The phone rings in the bedroom. Ring! Ring! Pick me up, pick me up! Right now, you moron! Right now! I ignore it, but it has already annoyed me. Then it stops. Thank God, I think. Then, a minute later it starts again. Same thing. Ring! Ring! Pick me up, pick me up! Right now, you moron! "Damn it," I swear, hurry up, wrap a towel around my waist and go out. "Has someone died?" I want to scream into the phone, but I know I will not, because I don't want a divorce, and I'm not that badly brought up, although sometimes I wish I was. Besides, if someone was already dead, it wouldn't be urgent, would it? Anyway, I'm sure the call is not be important, and it isn't. (99% of all calls are not important, in my estimate.)

The mobile phone is the new ball and chain, the electronic ankle bracelet. It is the new dog collar of management. We had a temp called Mohan one time; a delightful young man with some other qualities as well. One day he came to work with a brand new mobile phone. (He didn't have any before.) "My girlfriend bought it for me," he explained sheepishly. "Hahaha! You're dead, man! Your girlfriend has just put a dog collar around your neck." "I know," he admitted, with even less enthusiasm.

Bosses like their employees in dog collars. No matter how shiny they are, how many games you can play on them, or videos you can watch, and no matter what else it can do with them, they are nothing more than dog collars, man. If your boss wants to unload a monkey onto your shoulders at 2 o'clock in the morning, or whenever, you're 'it' man! That's what mobiles phones are for. Passing monkeys. Slightest problem? Scroll down the 'contacts' list and look for someone to unload it on. Bosses, friends, relatives: they all do it. "It's their problem, now. I've done my job." Have they? What do you do when someone unloads a monkey on you? Scroll down name list and pass in on as quickly as you can. And on, and on, and on in an endless game of shirking responsibility.

As for me, I'm not playing that game anymore. Send me an email. I strongly believe that the email is a most civilised form of communication. It allows the recipient to respond in good time without being impolite, giving the person sufficient space to think of a reply. That's why I hate it when some insist I speak to them on the phone about their manuscripts, and call my staff all sorts of names when they can't.  Look, send me your manuscripts by email, okay? I'll will read it (promise) and reply. If it's suitable, I'll say yes. If not, I'll say it's not suitable for our list. No amount of snake-oil salesmanship over the phone (or in person) is going to make me change my mind. It will only annoy me and take me off the work I'm focusing. (Note to writers: do yourself a favour by not annoying potential publishers.)

Yes, I'm focused when I work. Like hell, I do. In fact, I get so zoned out when I'm doing something, that I jump when the  phone rings. There's nothing worse than a telephone call to interrupt a creative thought process. Now, double that with the annoying sales pitch from the other end and my endless struggle to remain polite. Triple that for time required for recovery and getting back to work, usually 20 minutes. Now, calculate the amount of productive time wasted.

Multitasking? I don't believe that's even possible. (Sorry, fire-fighting is not multitasking. It's only one task -- passing monkeys around. See above.) I like to do only one thing at a time and give it all. (But that doesn't mean I cannot work on five different projects simultaneously -- when I'm on one, the others don't remain in my head; I have an on/off that works.)

Okay, a confession: I was tempted like hell when the iPhone first came out, because I am a gadget junkie, and have been an Apple user since the late seventies. But, was it something I wanted? If truth be told, I was quite disappointed with my favourite tech company. It was like the time when Bobby McFerrin sold out and went commercial with Don't Worry Be Happy, and all the plebeians lapped it up, having never heard of his Blue Note records.

I now have an iPod Touch, which is really an iPhone without the phone. Problem solved.

Censorship in Malaysia

A news report in FMT on March 23 said that Berjaya Books Sdn Bhd, which owns the Borders bookstores in Malaysia, and two others today succeeded in their attempt to quash the decision by the Federal Territory Islamic Department (Jawi) over the seizure of Irshad Manji’s Allah, Kebebasan dan Cinta in May last year.

Justice Zaleha Yusof said at the time of Jawi’s action, the book was not subjected to the prohibitory order that was only issued three weeks later.

So is that the end of another sordid episode in the annals of book publishing in the country? Not by a mile, no!

Store manager Nik Raina Abdul Aziz still has a Syariah court case pending: she was charged on June 19, last year, with distributing and selling the book, said to contravene Islamic law, at the Borders Bookstore, The Gardens Mall, between 8.41pm and 9.45pm on May 23 – before the book was 'banned'! (The copy of the Gazette notification that we have is dated May 29.)

This story might illustrate why Silverfish Books had a visitation from two officers (no names mentioned) from JAKIM, the federal religious police who were polite and threatening at the same time. One of them asked why we were still selling the Irshad Manji book. My reply was that a book was not banned until it was signed off by the minister and gazetted. I said we'd follow the law stop selling the book once it was, but not until then. Then the officer asked if I knew that if we had a Muslim staff working for us they'd arrest him or her and charge them with selling the book even, if they were only employees. I was furious, but there was nothing I could, except stare at them. There was nothing they could do either, except stare back.

That afternoon two others showed up panting up the stairs, this time from the Home Ministry, with a copy of the gazette notification (of which they gave us a copy), and we surrendered our copies of Allah, Kebebasan dan Cinta.

Freedom to Publish

I got an email last month from an organisation called Freedom to Publish, a program of the International Publishers Association (IPA) asking some question regarding censorship in Malaysia under the Universal Periodical Review (UPR) Working Group of the UN Human Rights Council mechanism that reviews the human rights records of all UN Member States. It was one of those emails that made one want to cry and laugh at the same time. Another survey by a bunch clueless civil-servant box-tickers, I thought.  Do they have law A? Yes. Tick. Do they have Law B? No. No tick. Jeez! Equating the existence of laws to human rights is like equating elections to democracy. How naive can one get?

This is a gist of my reply:

1. There is censorship by law, where the publications that are judged prejudicial to public order are proscribed by the Home Minister after a debate, or none.  Most bookshops will not carry books on the list (not openly anyway), but as the list gets longer it becomes more difficult to comply.

2. Censorship by harassment. Government employees walk into bookshops and seize books which they (arbitrarily) deem offensive, not necessarily on the list. The newspapers will carry the stories, and all other bookstores will start to act defensively by removing them from their shelves, effectively 'banning' the title. When confronted, the Minister will argue that the books are being investigated, after which the matter will be duly forgotten. (Yes, it's that predictable.) If a bookseller or dealer protests, he can be punished by arbitrary withholding of his future shipments at the customs, inspect every single one of his 100,000 titles, with more raids at the bookstore designed to scare away customers, having all his mail scrutinized, and more.

3. Censorship by refusal to protect the victimized. This case was highlighted when the office of the publisher of the Malay translation of a book by Canadian writer Irshad Manji was 'raided' by a group of twenty from a religious department. This was clearly illegal intimidation, but the authorities refused to take action, or to protect the publisher. Most publishers, booksellers and distributors in the country live in fear of arbitrary seizure and prosecution, and know that they cannot depend on protection from the Government, and, worse still, could be subjected to more harassment.

4. Censorship by those who consider themselves the law, whose actions the Minister is indifferent or afraid to question. A Heinemann, 1992,  edition of The Prophet by Khalil Gibran is banned in Malaysia. (So, technically, only that edition is banned.) Silverfish Books imported 300 books (other titles) by Khalil Gibran and had them all seized by the Home Ministry officers at the airport once (who made several unmentionable remarks about the ministers and the PM of the time). Later, we got a a letter from the Home Ministry saying that all the titles had been proscribed (although none of them were on the 'banned' list). We never saw the books again (nor did any of the titles show up on the infamous 'list'). Knowing the consequences of further protest we decided to accept our 'fate'. (An inside source told us that someone in the Ministry didn't like how the books were written. A literary critic in the Home Ministry! Brilliant!)

Human rights

Censorship laws exist in Malaysia like in many other countries. One could argue about it, say it's out of date, call the censorship board names, or whatever, but unless a major change, or enlightenment process takes place, there's nothing one can do about it. It's something that will be fought over for a long time. What is of more concern are those who operate from outside the law.

First, we have outlaws, those criminal types, both blue and white collar; pirate DVD sellers, drug dealers, illegal bookies, conmen, bribe takers, robbers, buglers  ... you get the idea. Their operations are clear-cut. They fight to win too, but they know they are breaking the law and are prepared for the consequences if they lose.

Second, are those who believe they are above the law, that they can get away with anything, that they have so much influence that they are untouchable.

Third, there are those who think they are the law. Like little governments within a government. Like pocket Napoleons out of control. Like warlords with private armies. In the case above, Nik Raina Abdul Aziz was randomly victimised and mentally traumatised, one of many. Those who victimised her will not be punished. Nothing will happen to them, because they don't think they are not obliged to follow the law, because they are not accountable, because they are only 'doing their job', because those in power don't have the testicular fortitude to stop them. They will go on to victimise others, and the whole process will be repeated (as we have seen in the past). But so what?

What's worse is the Malaysian civil service mindset that anyone running any business is kaya, so it's all right to inconvenience them, or if they lose some money. It's only an extra cost for doing business. (So, is it a surprise that so many look for jalan to kow thim?) They don't know, and don't want to know, what a struggle it really is.

Should have been a pirate DVD seller. The only requirement would have been coloured hair-dye and some bribes.

The rules for illegal businesses are clearer. Those who live by the law, will continue to live in disgrace.

(The record of the gazette notification can be seen here amongst a total of 1519 titles, including Conan Saga Vol.1, No. 27 July 1989. You can read a story about it in The Malaysian Insider story here.)      

Local heroes

Tash Aw was here in Silverfish Books to read from his latest (and third) book on February 23. Interestingly, Silverfish Books was the only bookshop he read at, although his KL tour was organised by MPH. Something like this would have been unthinkable just a year ago: an independent taking precedence over a mega-store. (But then, there are far fewer of those in the city now.) We believe Tash himself prefers to read in a cosy setting than in a 'supermarket aisle' of a big store, and he (apparently) told the organisers that. Still. Thank you, MPH, for giving us the privilege.

About 60 guests turned up to see and hear Tash Aw, and to get their books signed. We had received 30 RSVPs. (Many who said they were coming, didn't; and many who didn't say, came). It was a good session, and Tash e-mailed to say he enjoyed it. He wished he had more time, though.

Tash Aw and Tan Twan Eng (who was also present) are Malaysia's two leading writers on the international stage at the moment (they are having a pretty good run), both self-made, both living overseas much of their time. Tash Aw won the 2005 Whitbread First Novel Award, as well as the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Best First Novel (Asia Pacific region). Tan Twan Eng was short-listed for the Booker and the Man Asian Literary Prize 2012.

It's tempting to think that only Malaysians who live and get published overseas are successful. There are some advantages to that, of course. More money for marketing and promotions. Better environment for writing. The downside: it's almost impossible to penetrate that world, it's tough, and most authors will last as long as the flavour on a ice-cream lolly.  The books will be remaindered and will turn up in BookXcess within two years, while authors are tossed aside like used Kleenex. It's brutal. The entire Anglo-American book industry (AABI) is run by accountants. It is an industry that shamelessly panders to the lowest common denominator (while others try to reach for the sky.) The AABI lives in a vacuum (no translations, please, we're English), although traditionally they have been the most open. There are, certainly, many extremely creative independent publishers there, but they are forced to play the game to survive. (Does anyone still remember Yang-May Ooi -- The Flame Tree, Mindgame?)

Writing whilst living in Malaysia is a drag (made even more difficult for people who want to become famous authors without reading). You'll have to work like a slave in your day job, you won't get rich , and write 'with a cat crawling on your back, while the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment, flood and fire'. (Apologies, Charles Bukowski). The upside: enough exciting happenings around here every day for anyone who wants to write (the cusp-of-history thing, so to speak); books have longer shelf life here; a good chance the books will be read in universities and colleges; you'd be a famous Malaysian writer for a much longer time -- you'd be at the beginning of the fame curve, not at the end of it; and you'd be writing about your own people, for your own people and not about an exotic non-existent stereotype for foreign consumption, which, at Silverfish Books, we call the New Orientalism, a sort of a literary Black and White Minstrel Show -- white people imitating black people imitating white people. (Is this what's called post-colonial in academese?)

Shih-Li Kow is a chemical engineer, now in real estate management, and a mom; Rozlan Mohd Noor is a HR consultant and a single dad; Iskandar Al-Bakri is a practicing lawyer; and between them they have appeared on five short- and long-lists of international awards since 2009. Not bad for galley slaves, huh? And when we speak of Malaysian writing, we cannot ignore those who write in Malay and Chinese. Malay fringe writing is quite vibrant at the moment, and exciting. One can't help but enjoy their enthusiasm and vibes when one is with them at one of their events. The same can't be said of 'classic' Malay writing, though. The ultra-defensive, incestuous, stand it has assumed does not augur well. Its refusal to absorb any outside influence, condemns it to be forever trapped in a 'bahtera cinta' spiral. (Indonesians are way past that.) As for works written in Chinese, we hear that its pretty cutting-edge, but that's from a secondary source.

All told, writing in Malaysia has had many springs in the last six decades or so, but the present one feels like it might stretch into a nice long summer, with more new local heroes.