Opinion

Hang Tuah lives

2012-01-30T14:33:00.001+08:00

"Hang Tuah was not Malay."
"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"It is the truth."
"How could you say that? That’s the most absurd thing I have ever heard," Subuh stares at Angeh.
"He was not a Malay man."
"What else was he? A lost Arab?"
Jumaat laughs. SiTumi remains quiet and observes his friends.
"Hang Tuah was an aboriginal man like me. He was Semang."
"What?" Jumaat and Subuh say in unison.
"His name was SiTuah, not Hang Tuah; that was the name Malays gave him in Malacca. SiTuah is a common name among the Semang people. It is common to put a prefix Si in front of one’s name in our community, like SiTumi."
"I seriously doubt that," Subuh shakes his head.
"It is the truth. When Malacca fell to the Portuguese, Tuah escaped to Perak. He lived with the aboriginal tribes here and was elected as their leader. He became the chief of a village called Suah Padi Village near Changkat Melintang in Perak. He later died in Lambor Kanan, a town half a day’s journey from his village."
"I very seriously doubt that," Subuh says again.
"Tuah was not only a hero for the Malays, he was a hero for all."
Jumaat and Subuh look at one another.
SiTumi smiles, but says nothing.

The Beruas Prophecy by Iskandar Al-Bakri, Silverfish Books, 2011

Hang Tuah is a great story; so strong that even the Chinese and the Orang Asli want a piece of it. It is a good Malaysian story; unfortunately, it cannot be taught in schools because it is not history; it is a myth, or so says Emeritus Professor Khoo Khay Kim. He is right, of course. Not only is there no historical evidence, the story has many contradictions. (Was it Hang Kasturi he fought or Hang Jebat?) But the Hang Tuah story has far deeper roots than the good professor gives credit, emotional roots, which are not surprising, given that his interest is in history. One dismisses myths at one’s own peril, although it has become increasingly fashionable to do so in some circles (especially in this country).

The power of the myth

An interesting demonstration of the power of the myth was provided by the Sethusamudram project in India that began in 2005, involving dredging the shallow waters of the Palk Straits known variously as Adam’s Bridge, Ram Sethu or Ramar Palam, to reduce navigation distance between east and west of the country by some 650 km. In May 2007, Subramanian Swamy of the BJP challenged the dredging of the Adam’s Bridge arguing that it is a man-made structure going back to Hindu mythology despite Archeological Survey of India (ASI) and the Geological Survey of India (GSI) both having conclusively proved that it is a natural feature. Finally, in July 2008 the Government was compelled to withdraw its submission from ASI due to political and religious sensitivities.

That is the power of the myth. Rama and Hanuman may have been merely products of a fertile imagination (or imaginations), but try telling the 800 million Hindus in India that the Adam’s Bridge was not built by Hanuman, and a horde of monkeys, for Rama. The Ramayana has been a part of the daily life of Hindus for milliniums, and is, on top of that, a great story. Also, one could try telling 1.8 billion Christians that, since there are no historical records currently, Jesus or Moses and other biblical characters are not real. Some may be willing to accept the absence of hard records, but that would hardly diminish the relevance of these stories in their lives for over two thousand years (with minor variations).

“There should be no question that we should pursue the truth” said the headline in the New Straits Times on Sunday 29 January over an op-ed piece. (The rest of the story was not worth reading.) Really? Are you ready for the truth? How much of history is about the truth, whatever the good professor says, or believes it should be. He would protest that history is not perfect, but the shocking reality is how imperfect it is. But is that really a problem? "Western societies remembers its historical figures and separates legend and history ..." Khoo was quoted in the NST interview on the same day. Unfortunately, reality has a way of upending statements like that.

Agincourt

(There are hundreds of examples, but this is a good one): The Battle of Agincourt, which was the centrepiece of the play, Henry V, by William Shakespeare, has been taught for centuries in schools in Britain as a major English victory against a numerically superior French army in the Hundred Years' War. (It was also part of my school curricullum in the early sixties.) According to that version of history (or legend, depending on who you ask), Henry V deployed his exhausted English army of 1500 men-at-arms and 7000 longbowmen, against a French army of 8000 men-at-arms, 4000 archers and 1500 crossbowmen in the vanguard, and two wings of 600 and 800 mounted men-at-arms, and, complete with a rousing speech, defeated the enemy. This victory of "the band of brothers" became the stuff of popular legend, complete with folk songs. Not so, say modern historians, especially the French (and there is enough information on that on the internet for the reader to check out). The truth is more complicated. But, so what? That victory at Agincourt, that myth, that legend, that lie, played a huge part in making Britain what it became; it gave the Brits self-belief, that cocky confidence that made them the greatest imperial power the world has ever known (whether one likes it or not).

That story alone should be enough to discourage devaluation of legends. I have always been fascinated by the influence of myth, however patently false they are, and how history and science remain powerless it their presence. Is it only a matter of time before myths are broken down and replaced with truths? What would happen then? No more stories and no more storytellers? Imagine living in such a world; will we even remain human? We can live without food for a while, but once we stop telling (or listening to) stories, we're dead, even if there's still a pulse.

Hang Tuah may be a myth, but that does not in any way take away its relevance and power. Khoo, in dismissing its value (albeit only with respect to history) has stepped on an emotional minefield. One can take away Hang Tuah (or Hang Jebat) from the Malay ethos as much as one can attempt to remove the Ramayana from Hindus, or Journey to the West from the Chinese. Myths give us our aspirations and inspirations; our rights and wrongs; our prides and prejudices. But I agree; they should not be part of the history syllabus. Their content is cultural and should be part of the humanities. Literature would be a good place. Unfortunately, this subject is either not taught at all, or chucked under language. (Literature with a small 'l'; what the hell is that?!)

Why do language departments in universities teach Literature, with all their provincial interpretations? Literature studies should be open and not subject to language limitations. One should be able to study and analyse Hang Tuah, Ramayana or the Journey to the West in the same class, or even Kalidasa, Cervantes and Shakespeare (or any other combination). But that calls for enlightenment minds, a commodity in extreme short supply at the moment in this country. 'Parochial' is the best we've got.

On a parting note: The late Professor Lim Chee Seng told us how he was taken on a tour to visit Juliet's house in Verona. Yes, that same Juliet of Shakespeare's fiction. If the Italian tourism officials can do that, surely it's not too much for the museum authorities of Melaka to pass off a fake tomb as Hang Tuah's.

Raman Krishnan
Silverfish Books

Living in interesting times

2012-01-03T15:08:00.002+08:00

It was the best of times, and the worst of times for the book industry in 2011; a year of living dangerously. Borders finally shuttered its stores after a long terminal illness. It seemed like the end of an era when, in fact, it was not. The international age of the superstore started only in 1999, when the super chain store opened shop in Singapore. Within 12 years, it was all over. Twelve years is not an era; it is an aberration. It was bizarre to any thinking person: how could bookstores that operated on such small profit margins, most of which they were giving away as discounts on bestsellers, afford to rent such large expensive real estate in prime locations in major cities throughout the world? After killing off thousands of independents over the decade, the romance with the mega bookstore has ended, leaving the landscape looking like Japan and Germany after the second world war.

A war zone

If book retailers tried to defy gravity, the 'big four' publishers were involved in a weird outer-space ballet in the first decade of the second millennium. By some accounts, out of 300,000 new titles published by Anglo-American industry, 3,000 or one percent made it to bookstore shelves, given three months to perform before being axed. Most books sold in double digits, many of those shortlisted for the Man Booker doing no more than three digits. Add to this overprinting and the SOR terms for book retail, it was waiting to be exploited and it was (by the major chains). The wreckage in the aftermath of this disaster looks like another war zone.

In Frankfurt, I decided to walk around Hall 8, the international hall, on Friday afternoon of the Bookfair after most business transactions had been concluded. In the last -- or was it the first -- row, I came across the stands for remaindered book dealers from the US and the UK. I was browsing through one, The Book Depot, and speaking to the bloke who was there, who asked me where I was from. You should have seen his face light up when I told him that I was from Malaysia. He has several Malaysian customers, he said happily, and rattled off a few names. I was not surprised to hear the name of one independent remainder-books shop, but when I heard the names of the other two, both major chains in the country, I was taken aback. So the big boys are in it, too. It’s no wonder The Book Depot guy’s face lit up. Looks like I've got another live one, here!

The Yellow Submarine

2011 was also the year of the e-book and print-on-demand (POD). The e-book is of the future, and is still work-in-progress (as anyone who’s looked at the free download of The Yellow Submarine from the iBook store can see). How big it is going to be? That depends on how creative the products become. Something is bound to happen, there are too many talented people out there for it not to. As for POD, we have always had vanity publishing. It has now gone high-tech, although most sales numbers are still in single or double digits. POD is good for keeping publisher’s backlists in print, but that’s not the only reason to support it.

I read this in a Publishing Perspective’s story, What is the ‘New’ Publisher? : ‘The “new publisher” is a creative intermediary between the author and reader, and not merely a gatekeeper.’ Strange. That’s what I used to think all publishers were about -- to be creative intermediaries. As a bookseller, I was frustrated when local distributors (who don't read) decided what books the people got to buy. Life was bad enough with government censorship, only to discover later that big Anglo-American publishers subscribed to the same ethos. POD is, in part, a reaction against this hegemony. It is a little sad, because there are many talented writers out there who will have to be satisfied with double digit sales because they do not avail themselves of the ‘creative intermediary’ role good publishers can provide.

Maybe, like Borders and super stores, that hegemony will break. After all, they are run by MBA’s and, if there is more money in watered down syrup, they’ll shift. Despite the unrelenting cry in the media in 2011: the book is dead; the book is dead, we say, “Long live the book.”

Happy New Year.

Raman Krishnan
Silverfish Books

Sharjah: three stories

2011-12-01T11:14:00.001+08:00

iOS rules

I went back to my room after my 6.30am breakfast -- yes, I’m one of those disgusting people -- to hang up my clothes (I had checked in only at 12.30am) and returned to the lobby of the Holiday International Hotel at ten to deal with my emails, read some news from home on the Malaysian Insider, and wait for the twelve o’clock bus to take us to the Sharjah Chamber of Commerce for the opening of the professional programme. About eleven-thirty, I saw a crowd forming at the ground floor and guessed these were the other participants -- many hanging about chattering and many others, like me, busy on laptops and mobile devices, many with the bright white Apple logo. I smiled. I wondered, unkindly, how many of them were fashion accessories.

The professional programme on Tuesday, 15 November was revealing. The event was unusual enough, not to mention fascinating, for me. It was speed-dating on steroids: imagine a hundred and fifty publishing professionals from around the world, buyers and sellers, all confined to a room for six hours (generously watered and fed, no doubt), meeting, matching and making deals, many prearranged or match-made, but several spontaneous. On final count I got six requests for ePub (iOS, I assume), two for printed, one for pdf and one for Mobi editions (for Kindle, I think) of my books. Or, in terms of titles: 13 ePub, five Mobi, two pdf and two printed books.

So, in my totally unscientific survey, amongst publishing professionals, iOS rules.

IQ84

This is one book I had decided I was not going to bother to read. The hype was enough to kill it for me. Then, when I saw the book (from afar) in Frankfurt, I said: there's no way I’m going to waste my time on that huge tome. Then it showed up in the shop, at Silverfish, just before my Sharjah trip. The weight of the book, its cheesy page-design and its oh-so-Japanese Mikado: the pop opera dust jacket (Harvill Secker edition), had me resting my head on my hands with a sigh. I was not a great fan of Murakami, although I am not one of those who think it’s cool to exalt the virtues of his namesake, Ryu, like many, even those who have never read him -- I don’t feel that insecure -- but I did like Kafka on the Shore. I’m not taking this to Sharjah, I reiterated. Everything I want to read is in my iPod Touch.

Still, curiosity, go the better of me and I read the first few pages, if for no reason other than to criticise it. I got hooked. The book travelled with me to the Sharjah International Book Fair (SIBF), in the cabin, and was my companion in the hotel through my trip.

What can I say? Haruki Murakami is a master storyteller, and 1Q84 is a masterpiece. A love story in the midst of religious fanaticism, and a literary-fraud sideshow. I love it, and it has earned a permanent (and prominent) place on my shelves (although I kept reaching out for my editors pencil behind my ear throughout Book 1 -- but, surprisingly, not in Book 2&3 -- and it has the appearance of a rushed job), and even if the book is heavy enough to kill a cat if you decide to toss it.

The third-world trap

The professional programme was organise to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the SIBF. All countries want to have book fairs; all countries now have book fairs. Trading rights is the new thing. Sharjah’s professional programme was ambitions. While the SIBF was not a humungous affair like Frankfurt, it was targeted and effective with, I suspect, a higher deal rate. Other countries caught in a third-world trap with a ‘can’t do’ attitude, could do worse than pay attention.

Sharjah, obviously, has long term plans for this programme: it was too well planned and organised to be a one-shot-wonder. The boldest move has to be the USD300,000 translation grant in its first year. (Will there be a bigger grant next year? Let’s see.) All deals done during the professional programme on 15 November 2011 are eligible for grants ranging from USD1500 for children’s books and up to USD4000 for general titles, from and to any language. On 17 November, the organisers had already received 135 applications; a total of 500 is expected.

Your move, Malaysian National Book Council.

(The middle income trap is about the pocket, the third-world trap retards the mind.)

The enlightened amateur

2011-11-01T15:27:00.003+08:00

At the forum on the opening day of the Frankfurt Book Fair discussing the Trade and Copyright Centre in ASEAN (an initiative mooted by the National Book Council of Malaysia) one of the speakers sees it fit to emphasise: Malaysia is a small country with only 27 million people.

About fifty feet behind the Malaysian stand is the modest exhibition of Iceland, the Guest of Honour at this year’s Frankfurt Buchmesse, a country with a population 318,452 (1 January 2011 estimate) that publishes approximately 1500 new titles and sells 2.5 million books a year (8 books per capita), and Reykjavik has just become the fifth UNESCO City of Literature.

(“They might as well invite Bonn as the next Guest of Honour, it has a bigger population than Iceland,” says one German publisher, questioning the choice of this year guest, and adds, “To date, nothing big has ever happened to any of the previous Guests of Honour.”

Still, I had to visit their stand.

I meet Mr Kristjan B Jonasson, the president of the Icelandic Book Publishers Association, a fit, trim individual who looks like he cleans volcanoes on weekdays and does triathlons on weekends. He says that publishing in Iceland went professional in the late 19th century. Many in the industry have degrees in publishing, he says, although there still are many amateurs involved.

“In Britain, I never heard of anyone taking a degree in publishing, or even taking a course in it ... Despite the revolutionary advances in technology, British publishing remains the last outpost of the enlightened amateur -- but without the protection from predatory market forces that such amateurism is supposed to provide.” David Cornwell (aka John le Carre) in Publishing Perspectives.

He adds, “The German publishing, as I come to know it, is made of stronger stuff. It knows its worth and the worth of its readership ... Nobody knows better the value of free speech than those who have been deprived of it ...”

Interesting. I had to ask the Germans.

RK. Is it true that all publishers in Germany need to have professional degrees?
Sabine. Look around you; what do you think?

What I see around me is impressive, Sabine’s cynicism notwithstanding.

But Mr Cornwell's points did get me thinking. Let's start with worth: do Malaysian publishers know the worth of their products or their readership? Does Random House -- ironically owned by a German company, Bertelsmann, since 1998 -- know the worth of their products or their readership? Do any of the other major publishers?

When I set up shop in 1999 I used to buy my Penguins from STP Distributors. I decided to visit them once to see what else they had in their warehouse, and noticed a large stack of books neatly tied up in bundles in one corner. On inquiry, I was told that these were Penguins to be sent for pulping. Being new in the business, I was horrified. What are they going to do to my babies?! Can I buy them, I offered? Sorry. They had instructions to pulp them. Thinking about that incident now, I can only conclude that they new about 'worth' of their books, then. Nowadays, you find Penguins in remaindered bookshops in the city.

Jeff Bezos was once famously quoted (during the e-book wars) as saying that every book is a monopoly. Not only is every book a monopoly, every one of them is a designer product -- written by one author, designed and packaged by one publisher (whoever that may be). One doesn't find Gucci devaluing their products. Why do publishers and (more recently) authors?

I live far away from Mr Cornwell's world (although I am probably more acquainted with his, than he is of mine), but freedom is a chord that strikes us wherever we are and we amateurs do know a thing or two about it that professionals can scarcely begin to understand. We live with it everyday. Can we publish this? How far can we push it? Will people understand? Will people care?

How does one teach a people who have never known free speech understand its value it after it is no longer deprived? How would one teach an elephant brought up in captivity how to run when its shackles are removed? How will it feed itself? These are extreme examples, no doubt, but what is common -- and far more dangerous -- is the illusion of freedom: you can have any colour you want as long as it's black. Everyone professes freedom; as long as he controls the colour scheme. And, what is this thing about freedom in degrees: freaky.

Malaysian publishing models itself largely after the Anglo-American industry, and quite unthinkingly at that. The only professionals in sight here are accountants. It is an industry still generally propped up by the textbook largesse and political cronyism. For a long time, there was little room for the professional, and the enlightened amateur survived like a cockroach, by avoiding being crushed by a heavy foot. There have been some changes though, particularly in the last ten years. It looks encouraging, although still a little fragile, but one can only live in hope. Interesting work is emerging, even if a little wobbly at times. (I heard that Martrade now considers the Malaysian book industry to be mature, and thus requires no more assistance. Are they kidding?)

No, Mr Cornwell, Britain is not the last outpost of the amateur, gifted or otherwise. One understands your concerns of predatory business destroying entire industries, leaving behind nothing but piles of sucked oranges. Perhaps, the German professional (read unionised) approach could alleviate some bloodshed but, in most of the world, it is the idealistic amateur who keeps the flag flying against tyranny, oppression, harassment, (self or state) censorship, cronyism, political correctness, chronically uneven playing fields, apathy, ignorance and prejudice, often in the face of isolation, loss of freedom, friends and family, sanction, detention, arbitrary imprisonment and (in some extreme cases) death.

It is only the idealistic amateur who continues to slog, long after the accountants and MBAs have changed their horses.

Are you Malaysian or Malaysiana?

2011-09-30T11:47:00.003+08:00

We were at the tail end of our question and answer session after my talk: Malaysian Writing in English – the Silverfish experience, at the MalaysiaKu event on the 16th of September at the Bangkung Row, when Farish Noor joined us. After listening to the discussions for a while he asked what I thought about the label ‘Malaysiana’ commonly used by local bookshops to designate books from and about the country. I told him, I thought the term was insulting. One does not find local books in an Indonesian bookshop labelled Indonesiana, or in the Philippines as Filipiana, or whatever in Thailand. (Said one wag after the event: bookshops in India don’t have an Indiana section either.) In most countries, the majority of books in their bookshops would be those by their own authors, unlike Malaysia where most of our titles are Anglo-American! It has been said before: this is a bizarre country.

After 50 years of independence, we are still being told that we are Malaysianas. Watch the Malaysia Truly Asia tourism commercial or look at the giant pitcher plant at Dataran, and you’ll understand. We are told we are an exotic species; that we live in this Fantasy Island, this theme park; that we should constantly grin like ninnies, be perpetually in costume, and dance. Welcome to the Brown and White Malaysiana Show. (Farish A Noor quotes from a sixties tourism brochure in his book From Inderapura to Darul Makmur: Berserah, situated a few miles away from Kuantan is a typical fishing village of the East Coast. Seeing these brown fishermen (sic) in their colourful boats returning with their catch is a sight that only the East can offer.)

I went to the finale of a dance festival a week ago. The last time I saw something like this half a century ago on the TV (and not much has changed). Okay, imagine: Awang, Ah Kow and Mutu prancing about the stage in costumes and face-paint. I am aware that shows like this still exist on TV and in tourism events, but I didn’t think I’d see it at a dance festival. One mat salleh woman gave the performance a standing ovation, while her (embarrassed?) husband sat next to her. I thought I had seen her before; having her photograph taken next to that giant plastic pitcher plant. Maybe she was a tourist. (Look, if they can believe that Juliet was a real person who had a house in Verona, they’ll believe anything.)

Going back to the Bangkung Row session, the one before mine was a book launch with a panel discussion. Except that, it was not much discussion. It was a session with lots of vociferous agreement -- ‘I agree with you more than you agree with me’; lots of righteous outrage – ‘I am more outraged than all of you; and rants that flew across the room in such rapid fire that I took cover behind the seats (and into Milan Kundera’s essays). The topic they were so worked up about? Malaysians and Malaysianess. (I was there for the last 30 minutes while waiting for my turn.) It was nothing new. Pretty much the same old, same old; I am more outraged that thou; speaking to the converted, and all that.

Three Malaysias were thrust into my face last month: one, (apologies Farish Noor) an exotic multi-culti eastern paradise with pineapples thrown in for effect; two, a country in state of rage-filled dystopia; and, three, the Undilah video by Pete Teo, which the Minister of Information has declared ‘offensive’. I know which one I enjoyed the most.

Here are more stories about the Malaysia we all think we know. Browsing through big Malaysian chain-bookshops could make visitors wonder which country he or she is in; as could some of our national newspapers. A story I have told before is about my acute embarrassment when asked about our Malaysian collection (of English books) by an American academic when we first opened shop in 1999. (It was one of the reasons we decided to start our own publishing imprint.) We had about thirty titles on our tiny shelf; ten of them, part of the Black & White Rhino Press series. Now, we have a collection of over 1250 Malaysian titles, an increase of over 4000%, the largest collection of any bookshop in the country, and growing.

The Malaysian publishing industry in the country is experiencing a minor boom, but one will not get an inkling of this from reading our local newspapers. One excuse: we receive so many books from the publishers and distributors, that our cupboards are full. Our reviewers only pick what they like to read. That’s about right. Many are still reluctant to give local books a chance. Another commonly heard theme from local authors is that they do not like to read local books. Why? Do you think Malaysian publishing is not good enough? If you don’t read them, why should anyone read yours? (This is a strange sentiment indeed, considering how much writings from this country are being recognised and sought after internationally.)

Once, back from a short holiday in Sarawak, I met a gentleman (a good friend) who asked if I visited the cultural village in Santubong where they hold the Rainforest Festival every year. When I said yes, he went on and on about how wonderful he thought it was. When he finally let me get a word in, I said, “Did you notice that the Iban long houses in the show-village are built using steel nails?” He didn’t quite get it, and I was surprised that he didn’t. I thought the whole show-village was touristy and tacky, including the ‘Malaysiana’ cultural show that was complete with face-paint and polyester costumes.

Maybe, the problem is me. My wife says I get insulted too easily. I guess I do, but I can’t see why that’s a fault, though.

Anyway, watch the Undilah video and enjoy. We do take ourselves much too seriously; this is 'a laugh a minute' country.

Translations

2011-09-06T14:31:00.004+08:00

“We English-speakers are not interested in translations,” says translator Edith Grossman, in a story in Publishing Perspectives (translated from Spanish by Fred Kobrak, that was originally published in La Nación, a daily newspaper in Buenos Aires.)

As a bookseller, I have heard my fair share of this: customers insisting that they do not like books in translation because of what is lost. I have wondered about that, and I have to agree that it would be almost impossible to translate every nuance of one language to another. Let’s take the Malay word merajuk, which is generally translated as ‘sulk’, although the English word does not quite capture all the different shades of meanings it implies. Try translating another Malay word jeling, with all its loaded meanings!

That argument is, certainly, not without merit, but consider what we gain, what our lives would be if we never read Kafka, or Borges, or Saramago, or Kundera, or ... God, the list is endless! There, definitely, is a case for the half-loaf.

Slumdogging

Salman Rushdie, famously (or notoriously) said in his foreword to the Vintage Book of Indian Writing, 1947-1997 that the only writing he considered worth including in this anthology were those originally written in English (apart from Toba Tek Singh by SH Manto). He drew plenty of flak for that, and you can read all about it on the internet, so I do not wish to go there.

Frankly, for me, I am tired of Indian writing in English and have stopped reading them (apart from those by Salman Rushdie and VS Naipaul -- I know, I know) for several years now. Sometimes I forget why. Then, I come across a passage like this (verbatim): Bomanbhai’s wife’s earlobes lengthened with the weight of South African diamonds, so great, so heavy, that one day, from one ear, an ear-ring ripped through, a meteor disappearing with a bloody clonk into her bowl of srikhand (Kiran Desai’s Inheritance of Loss), and I am reminded why, and I toss the book. (By the way, that sentence also put me off all books on the Booker (and other prize winning) lists. It was waiting to happen.

‘Slumdogging’, is one way of becoming a millionaire. New orientalism sells. Schadenfreude owns the market. (Imagine this dialog, “Ooooh ... it’s so-oo Indian,” said with music score by AR Rahman in the background. Sorry, Daphne.) For me, I’ll take Shivshankar Pillai, NT Vasudevan Nair, OV Vijayan, Asokamitran, UR Ananthamurthy, Bibhuthibushan Bandapadhyay, etc, any day; they are not afraid to tell stories. RK Narayan was not afraid to tell stories.

Is ‘literary’ a synonym for ‘boring’?

Fact is, I am struggling to count the number of books originally written in English, from the UK and the US, that I have read in the last ten years, which has left any impression in my mind -- I have too many fingers. That is not to say there are no good anglophone writers. I am sure there a hundreds of them. Unfortunately, unearthing them is no easy task, given an industry on a death spiral that clings on desperately to the usual suspects. (At one time, I used to buy books by imprints, but even that is not safe anymore.) I had a customer come in once -- anglophone, expatriate, senior with a fair amount of books under her belt -- ask me about a certain book. I said that one could describe it as literary, to which she replied, “You mean boring ...” She was spot on, of course, although I did try to defend the book as I liked the author.

Anglophone writings come in a few broad categories: good story, lousy writing (The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown), good writing, lousy story (On Chesil Beach, Ian McEwen), lousy story, lousy writing (the vast majority) and good story, good writing (like hen’s teeth, like Diane Setterfield’s The Thirteenth Tale). (Guess the winner.) In other words, I am trying to justify why I prefer books in translations. Edith Grossman says that only three percent of the books published in the United States, Great Britain and Australia are translations, whereas in Europe and Latin America this percentage number is between 25% and 40%. Sounds glum, but I look at the positive side: 3% of 300,000 new titles per year works out to 9000, that’s much more than the Anglophone titles I’d like to read!

When I pick up a European, Japanese, or South American title (I am now working towards the Chinese and African), I can be almost guaranteed a good story told in decent English, because most translators have good language skills, too. (Which is more than you can say of some editors in the big houses -- later-day Harry Potters should have been edited down by 30-50%.) No verbal gymnastics, no showing off, no pretensions, and no earrings or meteors. One may argue, it’s because the translated titles have already been curated, but I don’t care.

Imprints

It’s strange that I should say this, given that I am a publisher of English language books. Malaysia is not an Anglophone country, and English is the second or third language of most Malaysians, which means the authors do not necessarily think in English, hence giving their stories a ‘translated’ flavour, which is fascinating.

Ultimately, this question must be raised: how is Anglophone writing to save itself? Go back to imprints, I’d say. Let a genre or title be identified with an imprint that defines its quality. The sci-fi, fantasy, horror people already know that. The rest of us can do worse than watch and learn.

You know, I used to bristle at one time if anyone suggested that I was reading ‘story’ books; mere story books! Ah ... but, I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now.

And, the fat lady sings

2011-08-03T12:55:00.001+08:00

Or, so says MobyLives. The end of an era? Not quite, I think. After all, the story of the modern book is 600 years old, while that of Borders (at least its predatory incarnation) is about fifteen (forty, if you take it back to its origins). I first heard of Borders when they set up shop in Singapore in 1997, its first store outside the US. In 2003, Borders had 1249 stores worldwide under its own name, and Waldenbooks, which it owned. The Australian, New Zealand and Singaporean stores were sold in June 2008, all the stores in UK and Ireland were shut on December 22, 2009 and on July 22, 2011. Borders started closing its remaining 399 stores in the US, with business operations expected to cease by September 2011.

Harry McCracken, in his story , Borders is toast, But don’t blame the E-books in PC World says, MacCraken also says, "Until late 2010, San Francisco had four Borders stores-three of which were within a mile and a half of each other. I'm no retailing genius, but I couldn't figure out how the city could support so many giant bookstores in so little space ... Borders' smarter rival, Barnes & Noble, only had one store in San Francisco, although that, too, is now gone; there will be no major chain bookstores in the city once the last Borders is history."

(I have written before about the bizarre situation in the Klang Valley when we had twelve mega-bookstores here when Singapore had two. And Bangsar Baru had three MPH branches with their huge Mid-Valley store a kilometre away. Go figure. Then, when there is a financial crisis, the banks will get bailed out while the rest of us pay for it.)

He adds, “If e-books didn't exist, I'm pretty positive that Borders would have still collapsed in much the same way. It might have cratered even if the Internet had never been invented ... Borders is dying (dead?) because it simply wasn't very good at selling books in the 21st century.” I thought it sounded a tad defensive, but I am more inclined to agree with this view rather than with all those others who blame the demise of the chain (no, the entire book industry) squarely on e-books.

It has been a long time coming, and (to me, at least) a certain inevitability was always part of the script. One could feel the tiredness. It was as if Borders did not want to continue despite the quote in The Detroit Press by defense attorney, Paul Magy, ‘Borders really does want to continue, and I think they really do care about their employees.’ But, is this the end of the physical bookstore, as Laura Bartell, a bankruptcy law professor at Wayne State University says (in the same story)?

What are the implications of Borders closing shop? "The chain's demise could speed the decline in sales of hardcover and paperback books as consumers increasingly turn to downloading electronic books or having physical books mailed to their doorsteps," says the Wall Street Journal.’ So, is Amazon.com, with almost every title in print on its list, the winner? Or, will e-books rule? Or, both? Or, neither?

Miles of bookshelf space have been wiped out. More will disappear if Barnes and Noble goes under, or is sold. There will be less space for new titles and new authors, and one can’t see independents taking up the slack in the short term. Still, in contrast to dozens of blogs and websites I’ve read, I’m not unhappy to see them go. Borders was an aberration; a bull in a China shop. I can live with a bookshop that has every title in the universe, as long as they play fair. Borders didn’t. They undercut the market, sold books below cost and made hundreds of independents bankrupt. The good news is, they are gone. The bad news is, Amazon is now a virtual monopoly.

I have no sentimental attachment to Borders. When I was in school, I loved the MPH on Stamford Road in Singapore. Later, in KL, I became very fond of the MPH in Bangsar Baru. I would be sad to see MPH go, although they are nothing like what they used to be.

Says the New York Times, ‘The news exposed a deep fear among publishers that bookstores would go the way of the record store, leaving potential customers without the chance to stumble upon a book and make an impulse purchase. Publishers have worried that without a specific place to browse for books, consumers could turn to one of the many other forms of entertainment available and leave books behind.’

Help! The sky is falling!

We have moved

2011-07-05T14:15:00.001+08:00

Okay, so this is not an opinion piece as much an announcement. Our new address is 28-1, Jalan Telawi, Bangsar Baru, Kuala Lumpur. Yes, we are still on the same street but a few shops up. (Right next to the Subway sandwich place). When we first moved from Sri Hartamas in the year 2000, we packed everything in one day, moved the next, unpacked everything the next day and were in business the day after that. When we shifted in 2007, the entire process took about five days. This time around it is ten days and we are still in a mess -- not that it has stopped customers from coming in. We sure have accumulated plenty of stuff, mostly books. (I am posting some photos here, including one of a swollen finger.)

We like our new address. It is bigger (a little), has a view (of the street) and there is no upstairs. We have moved our phones. Telekom insisted on appointing two different contractors to move the two lines -- since one of them is being used for Streamyx, never mind that it also had a phone on it. The two came at different times and it took them much longer than necessary. (Don't try to figure it. Telekom logic defies human common sense, and there is more of it later.) Then we got the keyphone and security cameras done. (Painless.) The signboard is up; a new drama will begin. Maybe, I will simply get a runner to kow thim the deal. I don't have the stamina anymore, what with Bomba wanting a piece of the action, as well.

And, it's going to be a busy July:

1. Saturday, 9th July 2011, 2.30 pm. Silverfish Writer's Forum. For this session we will be joined by a critique group of SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators). Linda Tan is the Regional Advisor for SCBWI in Malaysia and president of the local chapter. SCBWI is the largest organisation dedicated to people who write, illustrate and are involved in children's books, covering various mediums from print to TV. Their HQ is in Los Angeles. There are more than 70,000 SCBWI members worldwide. The critique group is one of SCBWI's key activities in many countries. Many have found such groups to be supportive and helpful. The forum is open to anyone, especially those interested in children's books. Admission free.

2. Saturday, 16th July 2011, 5.30pm. Book Launch. The Amok of Mat Solo by Salleh ben Joned (a book that no one dared to publish or perform on stage for over twenty years) will be launched by Royal Prof Ungku Aziz, with a few songs (unplugged) by the talented Anna Salleh to celebrate her father's recent 70th birthday.

He was no rebel,
no avenger he,
the cause of his anger was a trivial thing,
a manhood insulted was a trivial thing.

The Ballad of Mat Solo (1981) -- Poems Sacred and Profane.

We will also celebrate Silverfish Books' 12th Anniversary on that day -- yes, we have been around that long -- and hold our grand shop-warming party (at the new premises) at the same time. Admission free.

3. Saturday, 23rd July 2011, 5.30pm. Readings from 2 books, Anarki di Kuala Lumpur by Mohd Jayzuan (Sang Freud Press) and Kasino by Saifullizan Tahir (Fixi). If you have never been to a frinjan event, you have to come to this to redeem your faith in the Malay writing scene. This is where it is all happening.

4. Saturday, 30th July 2011, 5.30pm. Book launch of DUKE by Rozlan Mohd Noor, another Inspector Mislan mystery in which he solves the twin Dukexpressway Murders, by the author of 21 Immortals. Here is a synopsis:

A married man and his young woman companion, whom he is planning to marry in Thailand shortly, are found dead in a car locked from the inside, with gunshot wounds, during Ramadan, on the DUKExpressway leading out of the city. It looks like an obvious case of murder-cum-suicide to all but Inspector Mislan, who is surprised by the amount of political interference and pressure he gets to close the case quickly, and at the attempts to frame him up for the fall.

Another great Malaysian crime novel by Rozlan Mohd Noor, with an ending that will surprise even the most ardent fan of the genre.

Admission is free to our last bash before Ramadan starts.

5. Silverfish Writing Programme that starts on the 16th of July, 2011 has been fully subscribed. Participants are encouraged to attend any or all of the events above to get themselves aquainted with the KL literary scene, and the standards to expect.

(I am not putting up any other post this month, so it is all summarised here. (Too busy moving, lah.) Raman

Wisdom of crowds (or not)

2011-06-02T17:33:00.000+08:00

Read this report by Brandon Keim in Wired Science and you can download a free pdf file of the full paper from here. Although it is not directly related to book publishing (or selling) it is a phenomenon that has puzzled me for decades.

In a paper titled How social influence can undermine the wisdom of crowd effect, (edited by Burton H. Singer, University of Florida), authors Jan Lorenz, Heiki Rauhut, Frank Sweitzer and Dirk Helbing found that, “Although groups are initially “wise,” knowledge about estimates of others narrows the diversity of opinions to such an extent that it undermines the wisdom of crowd effect in three different ways. The “social influence effect” diminishes the diversity of the crowd without improvements of its collective error. The “range reduction effect” moves the position of the truth to peripheral regions of the range of estimates so that the crowd becomes less reliable in providing expertise for external observers. The “confidence effect” boosts individuals’ confidence after convergence of their estimates despite lack of improved accuracy." The recent global financial crisis is given as an example.

In lay language: In the study, members of one group used their own mental capacity to arrive at answers, and they got it mostly right. In the other group, when members are allowed to be influenced by answers of others, the answers became skewed, less accurate.

The authors say, “When individuals become aware of the estimates of others, they may revise their own estimates for various reasons: People may suspect that others have better information, they may partially follow the wisdom of the crowd, there may be peer pressure toward conformity, or the group may engage in a process of deliberation about the facts.”

This is something I have wondered about for a long time. (It is also for this reason we do not promote self-help and management books, though we sell a few. Please read the primary sources and make up your own mind, we’d say.)

One only has to visit any social networking site to witness the phenomenon, the hysteria of misinformation, everyone trying to influence everyone else. Social networks are neither good nor bad, they merely mirror society. While the mathematical model is fascinating (and does agree with many of my lay observations), I am more interested in the ‘why’. Are we hardwired that way? Is it part of our survival or coping mechanism? Are we merely being manipulated? (My assumption here is that the truth is better than the lie, though I am not interested in a Socratic argument about it. Am I being biased?)

From Thesaurus online:

TRUTH: accuracy, actuality, authenticity, axiom, case, certainty, correctness, dope, exactitude, exactness, fact, facts, factualism, factuality, factualness, genuineness, gospel truth, gospel, honest truth, infallibility, inside track, legitimacy, maxim, naked truth, nitty-gritty, perfection, picture, plain talk, precision, principle, rectitude, rightness, scoop, score, trueness, truism, truthfulness, unvarnished truth, veracity, verisimilitude, verity, whole story

LIE: aspersion, backbiting, calumniation, calumny, deceit, deception, defamation, detraction, dishonesty, disinformation, distortion, evasion, fable, fabrication, falsehood, falseness, falsification, falsity, fib, fiction, forgery, fraudulence, guile, hyperbole, inaccuracy, invention, libel, mendacity, misrepresentation, misstatement, myth, obloquy, perjury, prevarication, revilement, reviling, slander, subterfuge, tale, tall story, vilification, white lie, whopper

Below are two short stories which may or may not be related but have made me sit up and think.

One. When I was in college (more than forty years ago) I witnessed an incident. I lived in Block E of the Fifth College (yes, they were not very creative in naming the blocks or colleges). It was custom (a strange one, admittedly) to jeer any visitor from another block. This was normally done in good humour. Once, however, it turned ugly. The visitor was initially jeered and called names, as usual, which he acknowledged with a smile and a wave, as usual, then someone threw something. Soon an entire mob descended on him and proceeded to beat the poor chap as he ran to safely. I looked on from the third floor, where my room was, in shock. I was helpless. Although I was a senior member of the block, there was nothing I could do. That was my first introduction to a mob.

Two. I was in Trengganu in the seventies when I heard about the death of a close friend. I only heard it this morning, I said when some friends met in Kuantan that evening. Then someone else said, he heard it the night before, and, so, started the combative conversation, louder and more insistent. Someone else insisted she had heard it the morning before that, until it reached a point when one person claimed she heard of the incident the day before the death actually occurred! I could only sit and admire. It was a combative conversation at its finest!

Raman

Weirdoes and nut-jobs

2011-04-30T11:38:00.002+08:00

Not too long ago I wrote about publishing being a weird business and that, ‘In none other will one meet so many weirdos and nut-jobs.’ Many of my customers were quite amused by that thinking, perhaps, I was referring to them. None of my them seemed offended (not to with me, anyway). I suspect that people who read books do entertain (and even celebrate) the notion that they are somewhat different from the herd. Truth is, they are. Readers are a minority in any country. The book industry of the past two (or three) decades was just that: an industry. It lived in an alternate reality. Books are not dead, they said. More titles were published every year (though one wonders why). But, nevertheless, books were dying, smothered by the very hands responsible for keeping them alive.

‘Readers’ became mindless consumers herded by cynical, relentless mass marketing pressure. It became all about books that ‘must be read’, complete with midnight queues. ‘Book discovery’ and real reading moved to the fringes. The fanboy (and girl) took over. One customer said she felt manipulated. Indeed, she was, we all were; manipulated to the point where we admitted we liked something when we didn’t -- like believing ‘Coke’ is good for health, or ‘... he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke the same cigarettes as me’. It felt dirty. It was dirty.

Does all this sound elitist? Some use that word, without fully understanding its implications of power, influence and (worst of all) class. ‘Intellectual’ is close but not its implications of superior mental capacities. It’s about knowledge. Since the 80s intellectualism (in this country, for sure) has been taking a beating and has been cowering in ‘shame’ against the onslaught of the ‘common man’, and mediocrity; a swing to the right, of unbridled capitalism that gave nothing back (all, ironically, in the name of democracy). Greed was good, a virtue. ‘It’s not my fault if people are stupid and want to give me all their money.’

(Some years ago, when I first set up shop) I was having a long conversation about the media with a newspaper person ... about newspapers insulting the intelligence of readers ... yada, yada ... when I asked him at what level newspapers were pitched. He hesitated for a moment, and then said that in England the newspapers were typically pitched at 16-year-olds. (I was taken aback and I hoped he was speaking of tabloids, otherwise it would be too depressing.) “How about Malaysia?” I asked. He hesitated again before saying softly, “Lower.” It was scary, but sort of explained the level of intellectual debate (or the lack of it).

Question: “Would you rather have a discussion with someone coming from a position of knowledge, or someone coming from a position of ignorance?” Would you consider the two positions be exactly equal and valid?

Anyway, coming back to weirdoes and nut-jobs, I think I have mentioned (in earlier columns) about the father who wanted his school-leaving daughter to take up writing because JK Rowling made so much money. (The girl was not particularly interested.) Then there was this father who grabbed his daughter and bolted out of the shop and down the stairs when Phek Chin asked if he was going to buy the book the child just tore. (He had the audacity to come back, but still refuse to buy that book.) And we have had so many customers who looked like taxi drivers or Bandaraya workers, who’d quietly browse through every shelf for hours and, just as we think they are not going to buy anything, bring a stack of books to the counter worth RM300.

We once had this customer when we were in Desa Seri Hartamas who, on his first day, spent about two (or three) hours going through our shelves. He came back the next day and spent another two hours. He didn’t buy anything. On the third day I got a little nervous and I decided to talk to him. He said he was a labourer with Tenaga and that he liked books but he couldn’t afford them. I told he could browse as long as he wanted and that he could even sit at our tables and read them. I suppose I must have made him very happy from the way he smiled. He said, “Thank you sir, thank you sir,” repeatedly, until I started feeling a little embarrassed. The next day was Sunday. We were open and he spent eight hours in the shop. (He declined tea) We saw him a few more weeks after that, then he stopped coming.

At the other end of the spectrum is that loud know-it-all customer who will talk your ears off, drop names, try to impress you with his knowledge (God know why) and then leave without buying anything, only to repeat the performance on another day. Some will go through all your shelves and ask you for an author or title they know is not there. (Sometimes I will have it in another place, but when I get it for them he (almost always a he) will say that he prefers the ‘other’ cover -- whatever.)

I am sure I have mentioned the oily ones who'd throw their manuscripts on the table and tell you it is a sure bestseller, and the indignant ones who will shout at you and call you names when you decline to publish theirs (for whatever reason).

Still, when you come across a manuscript that works, you become so delirious it makes everything worthwhile.

The book industry tsunami

2011-04-04T16:54:00.000+08:00

When I decided to retire from engineering twelve years ago to open a bookshop, the thought of a world of gentlemen and gentlewomen engaged in intellectual discussions, in soft dulcet tones, about good books, current affairs and ideas over coffee or glasses of red wine was immensely pleasurable compared to all the argy-bargy, the barely legal (and often downright illegal) activities and the thuggery of the construction world I was leaving (despite some severe financial adjustment I had to make). About a year after I opened the doors of Silverfish Books, the invasion of the mega-bookstore in Kuala Lumpur started. With their infinitely deeper pockets, they could order every book in the list, whether they knew anything about it or not.

The first half of the last decade saw the establishment of so many of these giant bookstores in the Klang Valley, that at one point we had more than twice as much book retail space here than in Singapore, an island with twice the population. Every new shopping mall insisted on a mega bookstore of its own. The most coveted name on the list was Borders, the store that had made reading sexy in Singapore where it was established in 1997. Borders was, probably, single-handedly responsible for making books hip-and-happening all over the world.

But that didn't last long. The second half of the decade saw a gradual downsizing (euphemistically called consolidation) of several chain outlets. The romance was over. Borders is gone. Barnes and Noble could be next. And Waterstone’s might be sold. So what happened? It is common to hear people blame the demise of these chain stores on the Kindle and e-books, etc, etc. Really?

Unfortunately, the truth is simpler. The book industry shot itself in its foot, and has no one to blame for it, but itself.

Book buyer fatigue

First, there was this humungous oversupply of books. Anglophone countries were churning out more than 300,000 new titles a year in UK, USA, Australia and India. A report in The Telegraph in August 2007, announcing the Booker shortlist for the year gave figures of copies sold: On Chesil Beach (Ian McEwen), over 100,000; The Reluctant Fundamentalist (Mohsin Ahmad), 1519; Mister Pip (Lloyd Jones), 880; Animal’s People (Indra Sinha), 231; The Gathering (Anne Enright), 834. (These figures were for sales just after the shortlist was announced.) It was a clear sign that book buyers were getting tired, but the industry was not listening and continued to produce books that nobody wanted.

Second, chains and supermarkets started selling books as loss leaders. Everyone knows how small the margins on books are. Supermarkets can afford loss leaders because they sell all sorts of other merchandise with high margins. When bookstores start giving away their profits on their bestsellers, however, one senses something amiss. Bestsellers are where bookstores make the profit to stock up on other titles. Most customers who go into a bookshop to buy a bestseller buy nothing else, unlike people who go to a supermarket. Amazon is able to get away with it because apart from books, it sells music CDs, videotapes and DVDs, software, consumer electronics, kitchen items, tools, lawn and garden items, toys & games, baby products, apparel, sporting goods, gourmet food, jewellery, watches, health and personal-care items, beauty products, musical instruments, industrial & scientific supplies, and groceries. (Instead of recognising this, the industry was more concerned about Amazon calling itself the 'world's largest bookshop'. Amazon is a mega hypermart, get it? The game has changed. Amazon and hypermarts reduced books to the level of soda water, and the industry went along foolishly.)

Third, the book is a monopoly. A book retailer, in most cases, is able to obtain a particular title from only one supplier, the publisher, and on the latter's terms. Period. The bookseller has no option of buying his merchandise at a lower cost from China, Vietnam, Cambodia, or manufacture it himself in one of those places, unlike hypermarts that are able to buy a garment for 15 cents and sell it for 15 dollars.

Million dollar advances

Fourth, poor management. (The internet has many examples of bad management at Borders but I shall stick to my experience.) When Borders opened its first store at the Berjaya Times Square in Kuala Lumpur in 2005, I went to over to see if they had copies of the hardback edition of Freakonomics. Their system showed three copies. I kept myself occupied with their CD collection while the sales staff went about looking for it. After forty-five minutes, they told me they couldn’t find even one copy. (Honestly, I don't know why I waited that long.) Another case: Border's Singapore used to buy Silverfish publications through my distributor there, but they used to take forever to confirm -- apparently, they had to get the approval of their office in Australia before they could buy a local book. That would take months. Meanwhile other bookstores would have the title on their shelves the same week of publishing!

Fifth, the industry believed its own spin. The last decade was the era of the million-dollar advances and billionaire writers, if you believed the hype (and many did). All one had to do was to pick up a pen (or sit in front of a word processor) to get rich. It was bizarre. I remember headlines in local dailies calling Tash Aw the 'RM3.5 million dollar man'. When I asked him about it, he was totally embarrassed. (Tash said he has never mentioned a figure, so how reporters came up with that number is anyone's guess.) The industry lived on the hyperbole. Big numbers were good. It made good stories, good copies and helped sell books. Publisher, wholesalers and distributors, retailers, the media and the consumers, all loved big numbers (even if they were blatant lies). Reports started coming out that many titles were unable even to recover advances given; still, the numbers kept going up. It was the perfect bubble.

Sixth, over-printing to wallpaper chain shops. There was a report that the first print run of a particular popular book was 35 million. Sales figures released some time later showed 10 to 12 million. What happened? Was the original figure not true? Did the publisher pulp the remainder? Or did the publisher print the additional copies for reasons other than sales? If so, who paid for it? Did they print that number of copies to meet wallpaper demands of the chain bookstores?

Selling potatoes

Seventh, books retailers had no idea what they were selling. One of the reasons given for the demise of Borders in Australia was the way they sold books like potatoes. Taking it from the top, one has to wonder how some books even get published. (The head of Random House said in an interview with Spiegel Online that he had no time to read.) So who makes publishing decisions? Agents? Then, there is the layer of wholesalers and distributors for whom potatoes, or books, makes no difference. After that, come the retailers. The book is probably the only commodity sold by people with zero product knowledge. (Independents not included.)

Eighth, everyone is now blaming the e-book. The e-book is still new. The Kindle is only three years old, and there are dozens of competitors in the market. The iPad is only a year old. Although many early adopters have downloaded ebooks, there are no real numbers to work on. How many of these books were downloaded for free? How many were paid for? At what price? The favourite number thrown about by device manufacturers is 'millions' (with no substantiation) and the media is lapping it all up and regurgitating it without question. (I have downloaded about a dozen free e-books books so far, mostly classics. Ironically, I find it more comfortable to read them on my little iPod Touch screen than on my iPad. I haven't tried a Kindle, yet.) Right now we don't even know what an e-book is. The Kindle defined one. Then the iPad turned it upside down in just a short while. Things are changing rapidly. Expect many more permutations before something firms up, still a long way to go before forms take shape and a market is established. Until then, many devices already purchased have a good chance of ending up on shelves.

Ninth, lesson not learnt from the music industry. A recent story in The Brave New World says: "... global recorded music sales fell by some USD1.5bn (GBP 930m) last year."

Will anyone learn from the music industry

"The UK music business physical sales dropped by almost 20% with the overall performance down some 11% and although digital sales continued to rise by some 20% it did not offset the equivalent loss in physical sales ..." it continues, and that US economist Joel Waldfogel does not agree with the music industry bodies and major labels that creation of new music has been hurt by piracy, and that with "... new and cheaper recording technologies, digital music outlets and social networks, many of the tasks that were previously fulfilled by the big labels could easily be taken over by independent labels, or even the artists themselves."

… there’s no success like failure

2011-03-04T16:49:00.003+08:00

On 12 February 2011, I woke up to two bits of very exciting news. I switched on my iPad first thing in the morning (at about 6.00am) and read that Hosni Mubarak was no longer president of Egypt. It took a while for that elation to subside. Then, when I opened my Facebook, there was a congratulatory message from Susan about Rozlan’s 21 Immortals – it had been shortlisted for the (SEA/Pacific) Commonwealth Prize for best first book! Wahhh! This is the second Silverfish publication since 2009 to be on the shortlist of an international award. (Shih-Li Kow was the first, of course).

It has been a bumpy 10 years of publishing for Silverfish Books. I distinctly remember the euphoria when Silverfish New Writing 1 came out in December 2001. I was excited, but I guess not in the same way as the writers who had contributed. I remember the stern review by Antares in Kakiseni: ‘limp biscuits’ and ‘self-indulgent’ were the terms he used. Many, especially writers whose works were included, were outraged. Some of them urged me to respond or, at least, read the review, which I finally did about a week later. In truth, I was amused, more than anything else, by the review and comments, though some of them started getting personal and ugly towards the end. I thought about it for a while and a week later I sent Antares a private email saying that I did agree with his review, knew where he was coming from and that although I was not entirely happy with the book either, it was a start. I didn’t tell the writers anything, though, because I was still hopeful.

I continued with Silverfish New Writings 2 to 7 after that, producing one book a year. The formula was repeated, as was the response. Then, I decided enough was enough, and stopped the charade. Many (especially writers) were disappointed. Why, why why? Many asked, and still do. It was their only chance of getting published, they said. Some suggested that the reason for stopping the series was because it was not commercially viable anymore. While it is true that we sold far more SNW1s (maybe due to Amir’s foreword) than SNW7, that was not entirely correct. Fact is, I considered it a failure. Yes, seven books and more than 250 writers later, we were still not going anywhere; not one Malaysian writer went on to become an author (except for Matthew Thomas, but that is another story), which was the purpose of the exercise.
In 2008, I changed strategy; I decided to start the Silverfish Writing Programme and to work, intensely, with individual authors. Although I was confident that there are Malaysians who are serious about their writing,

I was nervous like hell, and for long periods I thought I’d fall flat on my face. Fast-forward to March 2011: from August 2008 to now, Silverfish has published five individual works of fiction (Rumaizah Abu Bakar’s collection of short stories, Liver Box, will be out this month). Hardly prolific, it is true. It works out to one book in six months, which is about right, considering the amount of work that has gone into each. We are a tiny publisher and we have to make every shot count; there is no point in putting out anything short of our (and our writer’s) best. And, besides, I had to be certain these are not authors who will be resting on their laurels, or wait twenty years for their next book. I had to know how hard they are willing to work.

Results count, talk doesn’t.

Publishing is a weird business. In none other will one meet so many weirdos and nut-jobs. One woman writer of a self-published book asked, “Why Harry Potter can sell, mine cannot?” Another guy came in with two essays he had written (that would have made a chapbook of about thirty pages) and insisted on using the Silverfish imprint, and stormed out after a long argument with me when I tried to explain why we didn't ‘rent’ out our imprint, saying, “You don’t think my work is good enough, isn’t that it?” Another gentleman who threw his manuscript on the table saying that it was a sure ‘best seller’, was so ‘oily’ I thought I’d have to shampoo the carpets and take a shower after he left. Yet another lady wanted me to rewrite all her stories. Many have called me names, accused me of not helping Malaysian writers like I said I would (particularly, when I reject their manuscripts – a mere coincidence, perhaps, although it does look like a pattern) and flamed me in their blogs. I guess it goes with the territory. I am a publisher not a school teacher. While the latter’s concern is (and should be) with those at the bottom of the class (since ‘the top students will take care of themselves’), a publisher can only spend his time on the best -- the rest will take care of themselves.

Still, publishing is such a buzz when you meet writers who are not afraid of hard work, not afraid to be the best, and not too thin-skinned to take criticism. Working with these future cultural torch bearers is such a pleasure; it makes up for all the weirdos.

I have several more manuscripts in my hard disk, but I will not be rushing them. They deserve my best, and that’s all I can give. An editor can make a good story better, but nothing can make a bad one good.

As the good minstrel said: She knows there’s no success like failure
And that failure’s no success at all

Raman Krishnan

(In response to Polly Szantor's query as to why Silverfish Blog postings have no bylines, I am signing this blog with my name.)

Interlok revisited

2011-02-07T14:49:00.002+08:00

I was going to write about something else, but two things happened that made me change my mind. First, was this gentleman I met who asked me what I did for a living? Then when he heard that I was a publisher, he immediately asked my opinion on the Interlok controversy. I started cautiously by saying that I had read the book, both the Malay and English versions, but before I could continue he asked:

“You mean you have read the book?”

I stopped in my tracks. It was a bizarre question and a bizarre moment. Why was he asking for my opinion if he thought I hadn’t read the book? If he wanted a hysterical uninformed opinion, there was plenty going around. Perhaps, he thought I would abandon scholarship for tribal loyalty and salute the flag he was waving, without a second thought. Perhaps, he was surprised that I could read Malay and, worse still, admit it. Perhaps, he was shocked that, in these days of self-righteous chest-thumping, I dared to look at an issue from another angle.

Second, was this email from one person (whom I shall leave him unnamed): DOES A LOYAL MALAYSIAN INDIAN DESERVE THIS KIND OF INSULT IN A COUNTRY HE CALLS MOTHERLAND ?????????? (Yes, all in capitals, 18 point fonts and in red colour, to boot).

My opinion of the book in question is that, though wobbly in (many) parts and a little naïve, it is certainly one of the better Malaysian books I have read. It is, basically, a story of the human spirit. Abdullah Hussain’s empathy with his characters (whether it is Seman, Cing Huat or Maniam) is quite admirable. Read the following, for example:

Kadang-kadang dia masih lapar. Bau roti yang dibakar dan disapu serikaya menimbulkan rangsangan dalam kepalanya untuk makan, bau makanan yang di masak oleh penjual nasi di sudut kedai itu menimbulkan nafsu untuk makan dan kadang kadang dia melihat daging babi yang tergantung dengan lemaknya yang berminyak-minyak itu, menggoda dia untuk makan. (Interlok, page 156)

(Sometimes he (Cing Huat) remained hungry. The smell of bread being toasted and spread with serikaya would stimulate his brain to eat, the smell of rice being cooked by the food seller next door triggered his appetite and sometimes when he saw the (roast) pork hanging with its fatty oil dripping, it would entice him.)

A Malay writer talking about the smell or lard from roast pork? No, Abdullah Hussain is not afraid to go where no one else dares, if it serves his art. I hugely admire his research, his craft and his courage. And he is, certainly, no racist.

As for the offending “p” word it appears twice in the book:

Satu perkara besar yang membuat mereka senang bergaul ialah mereka itu tergolong dalam satu kasta Paria. Mereka tidak takut mengotori sesiapa kalau bersentuhan dan mereka bebas lepas bergaul. (Interlok, page 251)

(One thing that made it easy for them to mix around was the fact that they were all from the same Pariah caste. They had no fear of polluting anyone they touched and were free to mingle.)

One feels for Maniam. Yes, this is how he would have felt, coming from a background of centuries of oppression and suppression. Abdullah Hussain got it right. (Mulk Raj Anand would have applauded, too.) Taking the “p” word out would be doing injustice to the Maniams of the world. It would have been precisely because of his caste that he would have been considered untouchable and unclean, and he would have had every reason to be nervous.

Di sini, Maniam dapati perbezaan perkerjaan menurut kasta, seperti yang masih berlaku di negerinya, tidak ada.

Pertama kali inilah yang ditanya oleh Maniam kapada Muthu, seorang kawan dari desanya yang sudah lama tinggal di Pulau Pinang. Muthu seorang dari kasta Paria, seperti Maniam juga, dia berkerja sebagai kerani di sebuah gudang orang putih dekat perlabuhan. (Interlok, page 257)

(Over here, Maniam noticed that working according to one’s caste was not in practice.
That was the first thing that Maniam asked Muthu, a friend from the same village who had lived in Penang for a long time. Muthu was from the Pariah caste, just like Maniam, and he was working as a clerk at the godowns belonging to the white people near the port.)

There is nothing negative about this section either. It is a statement of fact. To a person like Maniam, this would have been a big deal indeed. He could do any work he wanted, even become a clerk like his friend Muthu, his Malaysian Dream, his ticket out of hell. According to an article in the Malay Mail on Monday 24th August, 2009, 65% of MIC members belong to this caste although they now refer to themselves as Namavars – our people. Again, Abdullah Hussain’s research cannot be faulted.

Interlok is the story of three people and their trials. Seman is devastated when he learns from his father on his deathbed that the land they have been tilling all these years does not belong to them but a Chinese towkay, Cina Panjang. Chin Huat leaves his mother to come to Malaya with his father to escape an impending famine in China. Maniam travels to Malaya, the land he keeps hearing about, leaving his wife behind to escape crippling poverty. And in the end, they all get together and live happily ever after (which, in hind-sight, is the actual fairy tale).

The first part about Seman is, probably, the best written. Cing Huat’s section is good, too, though Abdullah Hussain does not say how or why this personable Chinese lad transforms himself into the predator businessman, Cina Panjang. The Maniam section is the weakest part and is riddled with minor and major errors. It is as if the author, tired of research, resorted to watching a few Tamil movies for the right cliches -- complete with the long suffering hero, the unfaithful wife, the totally evil villain (Suppiah), the mandatory rape scene followed by the suicide of the victim, and the long lost son who discovers that the prisoner in his police lockup is really his father. Corny to the max.

Then, the final scene is all Malaysian TV during elections: sugared to the hilt to induce terminal diabetes in the entire population of a small country.

But, one thing remains unclear, though. By some accounts, the version to be used in school is an abridged one (and not the 503-page original). If that is the case then all my comments above could be completely off the mark, because I have no idea what has been taken out and what remains. Knowing the track record of our gomen pen-pushers over decades past, I am aware that they are capable of being quite jahat about it.

Anyway, the cabinet has appointed a committee to look into the matter. This, normally, means that nothing will happen. Some new crisis will emerge and we all forget about Interlok. We are, after all, Malaysians.

The one good thing to come out of this crisis is that many people are reading the book, and Interlok is sold out in most bookshops. Good on you, Abdullah Hussain.

Lies that bind

2011-01-03T18:56:00.002+08:00

First of all: Happy New Year. Joe Klein wrote in the Time magazine recently about 2010 being the year of the leaks: from the massive leaks in the Gulf of Mexico to the Wikileaks. It was a leaky year, all right, though most people I have spoken to wonder what the big deal was. Was the BP disaster totally unexpected given the way ‘big oil’ (or any other major corporation obsessed with the bottomline) go about their business? Was anyone surprised that diplomats often have to lie through their teeth to clean up the mess left behind by their political masters?

Many are getting their knickers in a knot, “How could they?” Welcome to the real world, darlings. In the internet, nothing is sacred and nothing is secret. Anything you say can and will be used against you. Cry what you want for Assange to be tried and jailed, but he is only the messenger. This is the 21st century, you hide stuff and people will find it. Maybe, diplomacy has to grow up? As Robert Zimmerman says:

You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

We have plenty of experience with that in this country: hiding stuff. It is called censorship. We hide books on religion and politics to protect our people from deviant teaching, not that people can’t get whatever they want off the internet, or a hundred other sources. Brilliant is the way we ban sex from adults (but not babies -- wonderful contradiction that), ostensibly to protect our young who still believe that pregnancy is caused by sneezing. If you are gay, please keep it a secret: we will send an entire ministry after you and, yes, the minister has nothing better to do. (It would be interesting to find out how many people think the Official Secrets Act is designed to protect nations, and not to cover-up the misdemeanours of the rich and powerful.)

So, we come back to the point of lying. The curious thing about lying is that we can’t live without it. We lie everyday, almost every time we open our mouths, actually. Think about it. Call them white lies, green lies, blue lies, whatever; but they remain lies. Like the false laugh when we speak on the phone; or the way we’d claim, “She wouldn’t let me put down the phone,” after a three hour conversation. Remember the time you drove 25 miles into the boondocks to get a packet of cheese biscuits for your sister’s cat in Ipoh, swearing all the time, and then saying to her afterwards that it was no problem (when what you really wanted to do was kill her)? Is lying a human condition, then?

I have customers who will come into Silverfish and declare very loudly (for everyone to hear) that they didn’t read fiction. I would feel like saying how sorry I felt for them, but I wouldn’t. Silence is another form of lying. But, coming back to the point, is fiction a lie? If it is the truth, why disguise it as a lie?

I will tell you a story. This was in the early seventies, just after I graduated. I was on a ‘guru’ trip like many others; one of those tantric yoga groups. I didn’t feel out of place because everyone was friendly and everything. Then, they decided on a retreat to Fraser’s Hill to which I went along as a driver. At this retreat was a young man from Thailand, very personable, but with only a stuttering command of English. He had just returned from India after meeting ‘Baba’. He was asked for an account, and this is how it, more or less, went:

How was it? (Excited.)

It was okay.

How was the Baba? (Still excited.)

He was okay. He was nice.

That’s it? Did he not materialise a flower for you? A watch? A radio? (Disappointed.)

No. (Laughs.) But Baba likes to joke.

What did he say?

He asked about my folks. I told him that my mother was okay, that she has recovered from her illness ...

Was your mother ill?

Oh, that was two years ago. She had a minor stroke, but she has recovered almost completely ...

Were you a devotee at the time?

Yes, yes. I have been a devotee for five years ...

Hah! A miracle! Don’t you see? Baba cured your mother. (Loud noises of approval, group excitement.)

I watched the performance, stunned. I was speechless. Baba had cured someone’s mom of cancer.

I stopped going to the centre after that.

Is cute the new cool?

2010-12-02T17:15:00.002+08:00

The conversation started like this. An old friend, a thespian (who shall not be named, considering the propensity for name calling and flaming amongst some segments of our society), was in the shop the other day, and we started bellyaching, as it seems the norm these days, about the ‘Malaysian condition’. He mentioned a friend, also a Malaysian (but shall remain nameless), just back from Australia, who asked him to tell her just one thing Malaysians are good at. Though cornered into a position of indignant ire, all he could do was bluster, but he refused to concede defeat. So, the question remains: what is the one thing Malaysians are good at?

When one is confronted with a question like this, one normally assumes he means: “Tell me one thing Malaysians are ‘world class’ at.” At which juncture, one would be tempted to be flippant and say, “Video piracy, fake ‘Lolek’ watches, football fixing, money laundering, and ‘How about that guy who was arrested in America recently with 400,000 credit card details in his laptop?’”

Seriously.

His was a familiar lament: “The theatre is gone. Nobody wants to work hard. Maybe there is no talent anymore.” That isn’t logical, of course. How can talent simply disappear? Is there such a thing as an entire talentless generation? I, certainly, cannot buy that; I work with so a many young people, though I do remember a time when Malaysia had world class sportsmen, world class universities, world class research institutions, and doctors and engineers and lawyers and ... Maybe we still have them, maybe we are only having one of those ‘good old days’ nostalgia trips, to feed our illusion, our maya.

The discussion was going nowhere, so I decided to divert it. “But, what I really cannot understand is this epidemic of cuteness that’s going around. You should read some of the stuff I get. They can’t write, but they want to be cute.”

“So, that’s it then. If you have no talent, be cute,” he said.

We were both being unfair, of course. I do get good manuscripts sometimes, it’s just that the bad ones outnumber them, and can be seriously bad and painful. “It is about the content, darling, not how cute you are,” one is tempted to say, but never does. One only suffers in silence. (I have a hypothesis about this, from my experience: the more cocky and pushy the writer, the less talented he or she is. The quiet shy ones, the painfully self-effacing ones, often surprise.)

Still, I find this cuteness thing a little bizarre. I was at a wedding dinner at a hotel in Subang Jaya recently. You know how they used to have this cheesy “Eye of the Tiger” routine, with burning torches and all, to introduce the first dish? Anyway, the lights went out, the music (not the one mentioned above) started. I waited for the torches to appear with our dinner. But, nothing. The music went on and on, still nothing happened as far as I could see. Then I noticed that most eyes were on the stage behind me. I turned around, and almost burst out laughing. On stage, two painted cardboard swans were ‘dancing’ slowly towards one another, finally ‘kissing’, sending out a shower of red ‘hearts’. It was so corny, but I am sure many of the rest thought it was cute.

I must be getting old. Wherever I go these days, I seem to be surrounded by cuteness. Hideous fibre-glass pitcher plants, steel hibiscus lampposts, plastic Christmas trees with cotton wool snow … Ever been to a PTA concert where everyone goes, “Oh they are so cute,” and you are thinking, ‘But they are so talentless’? They are, of course, using the word in its original meaning: cuddly, harmless and sexless -- like babies, puppies and kittens. Referring to grandpas, grandmas, uncles, aunties and other grownups as cute probably suggests the same thing -- sexless and harmless with a certain weirdness or eccentricity. I am not used to it but, I guess, it’s the fashion. (Remember when we used to say ‘groovy’ for everything -- ughhh!) But when someone says a guy is ‘so cute’ or refers to a girl as a ‘cute chick’, I feel like, “It is so weird, man!”

Then, there is this Facebook thing, with 500 million people out there trying to ‘out-cute’ one another. Now, that is scary, enough cuteness there to start a pandemic of diabetes, or nausea, or both.

Maybe, thinking of the ‘groovy’ old days is not so bad. It is only nostalgia -- useless, lame, embarrassing, but harmless.

It is that time of the year (and decade) again. So, Happy Holidays. (Avoid the malls if canned holiday jingles drive you crazy.)

How I survived Frankfurt

2010-11-02T15:16:00.000+08:00

Having seen the retail fish market that is the Kuala Lumpur International Book Fair, I have never been enamoured of them -- book fairs, I mean. They are too big, fussy and noisy for my taste, I have decided. KLAB (The Kuala Lumpur Alternative Book Fair) is my limit -- small, smiley and friendly.
“You have to go to Frankfurt,” I have been told for ten years. Why? “Because it is an experience, because it is the biggest book fair in the world.” But none of that were convincing arguments as far as I was concerned. You probably think this strange. I have been buying books for over half a century (saving tuck-shop cash when I was in school), but the very thought of hundreds of thousands of square metres of books scares the life out of me. That’s why I avoid mega stores whichever city I visit, just as I avoid warehouse sales. I find them too intimidating (and more than a little stupid). My best buys have always been from the little stores in the corner -- some curated, some not. One never knows what one will find there -- I bought a lovely hardback edition of Winnie the Pooh from a little shop with about fifty English language titles in Frankfurt this last trip.

Even so, when I received this invitation from Litprom (Society for the promotion of African, Asian and Latin American Literature), I was cautiously excited. I was prepared to be disappointed, but I was determined to give it my best shot -- whatever that meant. Although airfares and board was paid by the organisers, participants had to bear the cost of shipping their books, which can come to quite a bit when calculated in Euros (for a small publisher like us). Anyway, after I got to Frankfurt, I was told that exhibitors were not allowed to sell books except on the last two days when the fair was open to the public. Even then, a strict ‘no discount’ policy was to be followed. I ended up giving away most of my books because I didn’t want to ship them back.

The facts about the Frankfurter Buchemesse boggle the mind a bit -- started about 600 years ago, over 7,300 exhibitors in 5 humungous halls from 100 countries, some 300,000 trade visitors, 10,000 journalist and hundreds of forums and book events -- but none of that quite begins to give one an idea of the magnitude. “Try not to be overwhelmed”, “sit back and watch the book world go by”, “don’t try to take it all in on your first visit”, are some advice I was given. Still, when one goes in on the first day, it is like being hit by a tsunami. (In the 5 days I was there, I’d say I took in less than 5 percent of the fair, including Jonathan Franzen and Gunter Grass).

Silverfish Books was given a stall with the rest of those in the invitation programme, in Hall 5.0 -- each hall has several levels -- with the Arab countries, Africa and the East Europeans. The floor above us housed the Latin Americans, and next door were most of the Asian countries, including Malaysia. (The Malaysian pavilion in Hall 6.1 was curious, to say the least. Looking like a decorated piece of cheese cake, it appeared to be caught in a conundrum: what was it promoting, tourism or books? It was so ‘gomen’, it was scary. The first two times I visited it, I quietly walked away because there appeared to be no one interested in talking to visitors. Only on my third visit did I see some friendly faces (from ITNM); I introduced a few friends of mine from Litprom to them and I believe they had a good meeting.) The biggest, Hall 8.0, was mainly occupied by exhibitors from the US, UK and India. (A person who should know said that there were more UK exhibitors in Hall 8.0 than at the London Book Fair. He also dismissed them derisively by saying that they were only interested in selling, not buying.) I visited Hall 8.0 on Friday afternoon and found it surprisingly quiet; maybe all businesses had already been successfully concluded by then.

Frankfurter Buchmesse is the place where one buys and sells rights; that is the raison d’etre of the fair. Though I have received inquiries from over ten countries, from Hungary to Holland (this will be a drawn-out affair), the most important aspect of the fair is how it opens the eyes of those of us stuck in the anglophone book world. Some of the East European and the Latin American stands were stunning (and not in the tourism promotion way), the quality and range of books were quite astounding. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of children’s books from Morocco and Lebanon, coffee table books from Egypt, Ecuador and Rumania, and fiction from Africa and Latin America. One publisher from the Dominican Republic makes his books himself in his house -- he has 64 titles to date and sells them friends, relatives and universities. Another from Venezuela says he was broke for a whole year after a beautiful art-cum-poetry venture, though it didn’t stop him.

The best part of the fair was meeting all those people more passionate and crazier than oneself. And, there are plenty of crazies out there.

The worst part? Well, coming home to humungous North Korean style political posters on the roadside and the blank ink blotch painted on the cover of my Time magazine.

What business do writers think they are in?

2010-09-30T12:47:00.000+08:00

I leave for the Frankfurt Book Fair on the 30th of September, hoping to interest the world in some of our wares. This fair, the biggest and the most influential on earth, is more than 500 years old, the first one organised by local booksellers soon after Johannes Gutenberg invented printing in movable letters around 1439 CE. In a sense, the book industry can be forgiven for thinking that it will go on as it is forever, that books as we know it will never die.

Nothing in all the promotional literature for Frankfurt I have received so far suggests that the debate this year is going to be different. It is not whether books will survive, but how they will survive: digitally or in print. In many ways, what happens in Frankfurt may become a non-debate. 7000 exhibitors, from over a 100 countries will meet, talk and worry about the same things they have done for centuries. I have a strong suspicion that the song will remain the same.

But, will it? We’ve heard it before: the television did not kill the radio, and the internet did not kill television, and neither one of them has killed off books.

Books are still, by far, the most influential, if not the most glamorous, cultural medium. Leading writers still attain demigod status in most societies, even in Myanmar and North Korea where they are often sent to jail. Actors and movie stars come and go. They get mentioned in footnotes of history sometimes, but they are seldom elevated to godhood anywhere (apart from India). Dancers are even more ignonimous. Only musicians come close to writers (including poets and playwrights) in their reach towards the gods.

Some form of writing has been in existence since the dawn of civilization. Before that it is reasonable to assume that all communication existed only orally, with stories told, possibly, in grunts and groans. Musicians came in and started telling their stories in songs, giving them some sort of permanence. (Many of these songs are sung even today.) Cave paintings and stone tablets gave us the phrase “cast in stone”. The Gutenberg press made it possible to mass-produce writings for everyone to read (and to kill one another in pogroms as a result, in some cases).

Still, “Why is Indie OK for Musicians and Filmmakers…But Not for Writers?” asks Amy Edelman, who believes that self-published books deserve more attention from readers and retailers, in an article in Publishing Perpectives. Is that really true? She mentions movies like Hurt Locker and indie bands like The Shins winning tons of praise. Then she goes on to mention the success of indie books like Tolstoy’s War & Peace to Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad, Poor Dad. So, what’s her point, one is tempted to ask. Well, her point is she is trying to sell her service called IndieReader, the submission fee for which is USD149.00 per title for review and inclusion into the database. The money (less USD25.00) will be refunded if the book is not accepted. IndieReader wants to be the home for good quality self-published books. What it amounts to is that services like IndieReader will become the new gatekeepers – perhaps, they would prefer the word curators -- in the book industry who will decide what people read. Amy Edelman wants to be the one to discover the next War and Peace.

The book industry in moving along like it used to, business as usual, as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Frankfurt will be a fair for publishers and the gatekeepers -- readers will only be allowed in on the last two days. (Seems like no one asks them anything.) But that’s okay; businessmen need a place to meet and talk shop.

Maybe, there is nothing big happening to be too concerned. Maybe, there is. There was a time when newspapers ruled. Now, they are struggling to survive, let alone remain relevant. (I get my news off the net.) Several magazines have disappeared, while others are discovering a whole new delivery system and experience, thanks to devices like the tablet. Will books be next? Will bestseller books become indistinguishable from blockbuster movies and video games? Will traditional books not be relevant anymore? Will all discussions due to take place in Frankfurt be, ultimately, futile due to events taking place outside the sphere of influence of the industry? Something they have no control of? Something they do not have the vision to see? The industry thinks it is immune to change, but, methinks there is a brave new world out there.

It is a scary thought, at least in the short term. And Amy Edelman is right: Times are a changing. But, not necessarily in the way she thinks.

Publishing Perspectives

Frankfurt Book Fair

2010-09-18T15:49:00.000+08:00

Like everything else in life, no matter how long one has to prepare for something, there will always be a last minute rush. Maybe the problem is that we take on too much, or maybe that is the nature of things. I am now rushing for Frankfurt, though I have little idea what I’m rushing for -- all I need to do is to get on the plane on the 30th of September. But no, I need to make a good enough impression, I must not let the side down, the side being Malaysia.

That is the main reason I have not done it earlier, participate in the Frankfurt Book Fair, that is. People (in the industry) have been telling me for almost ten years now (ever since I started publishing) that I should go to Frankfurt -- it will be an experience, it will be interesting, you will not regret it, etc, etc, they assured me. I suppose they would have been correct, except that I felt I didn’t have anything to show, apart from a few collections of uneven short stories. Sure, it was groundbreaking; sure, it unearthed some talent, and I suppose many people would have attended the fair with less. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), I felt that I could (or would) participate in such events only with a fairly respectable list -- the book industry jargon for a catalogue. Anything less would have been too malu-fying, too embarrassing. (Maybe, I’m too sensitive.)

I will be taking with me books by seven authors that I feel are of international standard. (I have several more manuscripts that would fall into this category, unfortunately, I have not had the time to work on them.) I dare say, they are better, much better, then many out there. But then we are third world, right? We need to be twice as good even to be noticed. That is the barrier, the reality we have to face. Can the natives even write? Can they even read? Did they not just come down from the trees very recently? Or, when they discover the natives can write: why are all the characters so happy? Everyone knows how miserable their lives are. Women lead terrible lives, all native fathers rape their daughters, and uncles their boys. No, this cannot be authentic, this not how natives live. Asian women are not like that. Have they not seen that Suzie Wong movie? Slumdog Millionaire? Thank God, we know better. (Unfortunately, these sentiments are also expressed by many ‘natives’ who think they are not like the rest of us.)

The barrier faced by authentic ‘native’ authors in the international marketplace is quite daunting. One can only try, without selling out to the stereotype, the cliche, the market. Silverfish is committed to developing Malaysia’s own literature (albeit, in English), our own canon, our own stories, our own history. We are committed to producing books we can live with, maintain our dignity and not cringe in shame at its very mention a few years from now.

Frankfurt will have participants from over a hundred countries. Surely, not all will be blinkered? We live in hope.

Doom and boom

2010-09-02T12:00:00.000+08:00

It’s no longer news that the book industry is in a frenzy over ebooks. Many have already started on their obituaries for the ‘dead tree’ book. Others are steadfast in the refusal to accept any other form and insist it will last for a long time more. Both are probably right. It depends on which book industry one is talking about -- text, reference, academic, or general. Text books will probably be the first to go digital; the weight of a students’ backpack should decide that. As for reference material, when was the last time you opened a printed dictionary? Mine happened about five years ago. Academics really don’t need to kill trees to put forward their arguments. So the discussion is really only about general books.

The biggest positive news to come out of the book world in recent times is Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, which I have pre-ordered despite learning that it is over 500 pages long. (That’s how desperate I am for some good news.) The last time anyone heard of Franzen was during the Oprah Winfrey kerfuffle in 2001. How dare this pipsqueak of a writer insult their media darling, the media screamed although he, actually, didn’t. Perhaps there is a measure of guilt involved in media circles for the way they reported the incident despite the fact that it was not Franzen who unfriended Oprah but the other way round. (For those interested, some of the stories are still online.)

Maybe the media needs something to write about (and Franzen is a name the public is familiar with), and America needs a new literary hero for its own revalidation, after Iraq and the economic crisis, and to take his place alongside Salinger, Nabokov, Morrison, Wolfe, Roth and Updike. After all, he is a proven writer and a recluse -- ah, that great American literary tradition. A recent Time magazine report about his new book caught my attention. This is his first novel in nine years. “He writes six or seven days a week, starting at 7am. He’s often hoarse by the end of the day because he performs his dialogue aloud as he writes ... Franzen works from a rented office ... stripped of all distractions. He uses a heavy, obsolete Dell laptop from which he has scoured any trace of hearts or solitaire ...”

And, because he believes one can’t write serious fiction on a computer that’s connected to the Internet, he has removed its wireless card and super glued shut its Ethernet port. It is an obsession one can only admire. I have to read that book.

Then in the other corner, we have James Patterson, currently the author who makes the most money in the world. This is interesting because, by his own admission, he does not even write his own books. His name is on the front cover of thrillers, young adult and children’s books, and he churns them out year after year, but he does not write them as much as “he relies on a team of five to help him bash out the plots”, according to a report in The Independent. Now, with the dawn of the iPad like devices, is there a limit to what Patterson can do? He could hire another five (or fifty) people and turn his into a production house ala Hollywood.

When we talk about the general book industry, we always think there is only one. There are several. The one that has adapted itself best to social networks is probably sci-fi and horror. These people collect books by numbers, editions and book covers, so I can’t see how the e-book is going to affect them. There are many other segments. But, for what is commonly known as the general fiction market, Franzen and Patterson represent two different sides of it. Though these two are largely run by the same people, the two operate quite differently. Patterson represents the sugared-water side of the business and, just as, Coke will always outsell fine wines, the likes of him will clobber the Franzens financially. Seriously, in future, which publisher will bother to wait nine years for a blockbuster, even if it is a cultural phenomenon, when someone else can churn out nine books a year? (Not quite yet, but it will come to that.)

That, perhaps, is the true future of books: big production houses churning out ‘3-D’ versions of books. Will they still be called ‘books’, though? Will the ‘dead tree’ book die, then? Me thinks not. It will survive, like indie or art-house movies, or music. It will not make too much money (except occasionally -- like now) but it will have its connoisseurs. It will be largely produced by independents with the passion. It may become a cultural good once again -- like in Europe -- and be treated like fine wine.

And fewer trees will die, too.

Time
The Independent

It is the best of times, it is the worst of times

2010-08-16T18:07:00.000+08:00

It seems as if not a week passes without some new development in the book industry, mainly predicting the death of the physical book. Only a few made me sit up and notice. First, a story early this month said that Barnes and Noble may be put up for sale. That is serious shit. Then there was the story of the coming liquidation of the Good Book Guide, a service I used to love and rely on in the seventies and the eighties. Finally, what Random House CEO Markus Dohle said in his SPIEGEL interview about how 'The Printed Book Will Still Dominate for a Long Time to Come'

But have a confession. I own an iPad, and I have downloaded books. I have been watching what I do and I notice that I am only interested in the classics, and that too, classic books for children. (No, they are not for my granddaughter as some have suggested.) No book on the front list has appealed to me so far. Besides, most of the classics are free. So when I am on holiday, I will have my collection of music, DVDs, games, internet browser and email client, and a few other odds and ends that I can bring along without paying for excess baggage.

Sale of Barnes and Noble

The board of directors of Barnes & Noble have announced that it is considering a sale of the largest bookstore chain in the US. The company operates 777 stores in all fifty US states in addition to 636 college bookstores, serving nearly four million students and two hundred and fifty thousand faculty members across the country.

Barnes & Noble originated in 1873 when Charles Barnes opened a book-printing business in Illinois. Their first true bookstore was set up by his son, William, in partnership with G. Clifford Noble, in 1917 in New York. The business was sold, in 1971, to Leonard Riggio. In 1975, Barnes & Noble became the first bookstore to discount books, by selling best-selling titles at 40% off the publishers’ list price.

The blogosphere is in a frenzy with many predicting the final end of the brick and mortar retailers (again).

The Good Book Guide calls in liquidators

News last week says that the Good Book Guide has called in insolvency practitioners to deal with the liquidation of the company because they "can't satisfy its debts as they fall due". The company is holding meetings with creditors and shareholders on September 1.

It is understood that reviewers for the monthly book recommendations magazine are among those who have not been paid, but it is not clear if there were any publishers among the creditors. No issue of the Guide has been published since April.

The Good Book Guide started in the seventies as a mail-order bookseller, supported by a recommendation magazine with hundreds of reviews by professional reviewers every month. With the advent of the internet, they became an online retailer, still publishing the recommendations magazine monthly. Obviously, they couldn’t compete with the behemoths like Amazon.

The printed book will dominate

A headline 'The Printed Book Will Still Dominate for a Long Time to Come' caught my eye recently. It was a SPIEGEL interview with Mr Markus Dohle, 42, CEO of Random House, the largest publishing company in the world. I decided to renew my faith. I came across a few gems there which I shall produce verbatim below:

SPIEGEL: Did you work your way through the literary canon in preparation?
Dohle: There was no time for that. I was set up in the United States within a few days. It went very quickly. And when I started the new position, I was in the process of reading the Random House book "You're in Charge -- Now What?" It was certainly appropriate reading material.

SPIEGEL: Aren't you worried about embarrassing yourself while making small talk about literature with authors and agents?
Dohle: I do happen to have 15 Frankfurt Book Fairs under my belt and have spent my entire professional life in the book business at Bertelsmann. I've met plenty of major authors and publishers in the process. The book industry is a very creative environment. Ultimately, however, it's about making money with books.

Now we can all panic. The death of the music industry was caused by publishers who didn’t know or listen to the music they sold. The publishing industry now has Mr Markus Dohle.

Publisher’s Weekly
The Bookseller
The Spiegel

Recommending books

2010-08-02T16:21:00.000+08:00

I read a column recently by Laura Miller of Salon.com about the Art of Recommending Book that led me to think how easy that was when we were young. My entire childhood experience was about sharing books and music. Have you read this, have you heard that? It was a time when one didn’t have to worry about books coming back because they usually did. (Stealing from friends started later in the teen years, a habit that often stretched to adulthood.) So stacks of The Famous Five, Secret Seven, Hardy Boy -- the boys never read Nancy Drew for some reason, we were sexist that way -- and Biggles (to name a few) changed hands rapidly. Later, it was Agatha Christie, Leslie Charteris (whose real name was Leslie Charles Bowyer-Yin and was born in Singapore), Micky Spillane, Earl Stanley Gardner, Ian Fleming -- gosh, there were so many. Then all that stopped as if the music suddenly died. So, what happened? I have wondered about that. I suspect what happened was adulthood.

Laura Miller says: ‘Amazon and other online merchants have harnessed mighty algorithms to run their "If you enjoyed that, you might like this ..." suggestion engines, but these are still crude instruments.’ Interestingly, I have not bought a single book recommended to me by a robot in the last ten years I have been buying a from Amazon. But then, I might be the freak here. Is there a survey to show the percentage of buyers who purchase the books that are suggested? Or is it only a ‘nice’ feature?

Then there are the Booker and Whitbread (now Costa) book awards. Unfortunately, it has been several years since I have been excited by anything on their lists. I don’t think I am alone, though. A story on The Telegraph which I reported here says (to summarise): only Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach did well (according to Nielsen BookScan August 18 figures) selling 110, 615 copies. Mohsin Hamid's The Reluctant Fundamentalist sold 2918 copies and Lloyd Jones' Mister Pip,2802 copies. In fact, the five finalists' combined sales, besides Ian McEwan's, came to 10,155 copies. (These figures were released before the winner was announced.) Maybe it was an unusual year, but I think not. The figure seem to suggest that books by the usual suspects still sell. Is the role of Booker Prize (and other such awards) as the arbiter of good taste in books, over then?

So what turns readers on? Newspapers, magazine and blogs? As a bookseller for ten years, I’d say that the impact of reviews are minimal, except to create awareness. Yes, there are those who come in with cutouts of reviews, bestseller lists or titles they read about, but these are a minority. What does get a book going are the word-of-mouth recommendation. “This book is damn chun man. You have to read it,” as we did when we were kids. Or if it’s a book the government has made a fuss over, like Chin Peng or The Malaysian Maverick. (That never hurts sales.)

As an independent bookshop, one of our functions is to recommend books. This is the part we enjoy the most, particularly when the customer comes back for more. Having said that, recommending books is an art. We normally start with two questions: “What are you reading now?” and, “Who are your favourite authors?” The answers to these help narrow things down considerably. Then the next question will be, “Do want something similar or would you like to try something a little different?” At this point you might detect a little panic in some cases, because of the word ‘different’. “What are these weirdos going to suggest now?” People do like things to remain the same. Forever. That’s why books by usual suspects continue to sell, and that’s why publishers continue to churn them out.

The other problem is -- and one can blame the Booker and other prize committees for it -- the idea that good books are either difficult to read, boring or both. Unfortunately, this notion is also promoted by many literary types, especially reviewers. Our first criteria for a good read is the story. Second comes the part that is a source of much debate and disagreement: is it well written? We have discussed this in our previous posts. We like simple straightforward language. Elegance is a bonus. Ostentatious and overly florid language will be regarded the same as Corinthian columns in Taman Melawati: with disdain. Third, is added value -- is it a slice of life, a comment on the human condition, or does it contain little known information?

Good books are certainly not difficult to read, but not all readers are equal. Some read more than others. So throwing someone into the deep end is not helpful regardless of how much we like a particular book.

Salon.com

The death of the American novel?

2010-07-17T14:22:00.002+08:00

And, by extension, judging from the amount of white noise generated in the book world by Lee Siegel’s piece in the New York Observer, ‘Where Have All the Mailers Gone?’, one would wonder the same about the anglophone novel. Maybe, death is an exaggeration. How about ‘terminally ill’ or ‘comatose’ then?

Most book people would have, by now, heard of critic Lee Siegel’s declaration of that American novel dead, though, anyone who has read his story will know, that is not exactly what he said. His assertion is: “ ... no one goes to a current novel or story for the ineffable private and public clarity fiction once provided ...” not because they don’t exist but because readers no longer consider them relevant. He says, “Without a doubt, the next male or female Hemingway, Faulkner or Fitzgerald is out there somewhere, hard at work,” but does anyone (meaning the public, not individuals) care?

Not surprisingly, most of the storm it has stirred up is in America with writers, critics and readers all taking up positions (or not, which is also one). The rest of the anglophone literary world looks on nervously, wondering nervously if the child is right, if the Emperor indeed has no clothes, that what they have been seeing has all been an illusion. The Daily Telegraph says defiantly, “People have been declaring the death of the novel ever since the first novelist, Petronius, held the first launch party 2,000 years ago, in Rome.” Bravado, wishful thinking, Dutch courage or whistling in the dark? Which is all understandable, of course, considering how scary the alternatives are, particularly to the status quo.

One of my best lecturers in engineering school was one Professor Chin. His advice for solving any problem was simple: “When in doubt, go back to first principles.” In the case of the book, I guess the basic question is, “Why do people read?” It sounds like a dumb question, but it isn’t. Why do people read? Indeed, why do I read? How did I start?

Okay. First, it was the story. Yes, it was always about the stories, and in them I could become whatever I wanted: a pirate, a private investigator, an adventurer, whales fighter, captain of a submarine, become invisible, defeat aliens ... oh God, the list was endless. Then, I discovered stories where one could learn interesting facts, often embedded within fiction, but sometimes outside of it. Still, it was always about the story, even when it was nonfiction. Third, was language, the deceptively simple but beautiful sentences, and turns of phrases, words that came to life. Finally, there were stories I read for what they said about me, about the world, about our condition, for the “ ... ineffable private and public clarity ...”

So, what happened? In the last few years, I have practically stopped reading anglophone writings, especially those from America, United Kingdom and India, except for a few by the ‘usual suspects’. They no longer set me on fire. They have become, largely, predictable and tiring. (Having said that, I admit I enjoyed the technique and inventiveness of Matthew Kneale, David Mitchell and Diana Setterfield.) The genre novels either insult your intelligence, or they are so fat due to padding that you have to skim and scan through them like you are reading a local newspaper. Anyway, they are written for fanboys and fangirls, not for normal people. As for the so called literary novels (yes, the boring, difficult ones), getting past the verbosity and onanistic excesses of the writers is becoming really exhausting, and there isn’t even a good story at the end of it, most of the time. (I end up skimming through them, too, if I don’t give up after ten pages.)

My favourite reads now are translated works. Yes, I can hear the collective groans. “But, so much is lost in translation,” you protest. I agree, but is that necessarily a bad thing, given the current state of the ‘literary’ genre? In translated works, I get to read and enjoy all the best European, South American, Caribbean, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Korean ... anything that’s available, without the dysentery (much of which, thankfully, is either lost in translation, or not there). In translation, I am able to enjoy pithy stories, well told, and still look at different cultures as they are and not what Hollywood (or anyone else) thinks they should be.

When released, was Hemingway classified as literary? Was Harper Lee considered commercial? So who killed (or is killing) the novel. The writers? Writers write what they feel compelled to write. Whether or not they get published is not in their hands. They are, certainly, no dumber than those from earlier generations. Readers? They read for entertainment. If it is too much work, they’ll weigh the benefit and cost, and switch. Also, they are easily exploited by cynical marketing. The gatekeepers? Driven by the dollar, agents and publishers have steadily reduced the book to FMCGs -- fast moving consumer goods -- no different from shoes. Nothing more, nothing less.

Is there no hope for anglophone fiction, then? One recent good news was the opening of a hundred new independent bookshops in the last two years in the UK. Another one is the refusal of St Martin’s Press to pay Janet Evanovich $50 million for her next four books. Greed has to be stopped somewhere. If more publishers do that, there is a chance that anglophone fiction will become relevant again.

There is only one hope for the anglophone novel (like for everything else): bio-diversity. We could do worse than have more (preferably, small) publishers releasing new writers, and let the readers decide. Since most small publishers are poor, perhaps the money men will go elsewhere and sell sugared water, groceries or something.

Is there another Hemingway or Harper Lee out there? I am certain there is. May an independent publisher discover them.

For Saramago, death is only an interval

2010-06-30T21:23:00.000+08:00

José de Sousa Saramago died on the 18 of June 2010, but apart from some bloggers, few in the country seemed to know, or care. I didn’t see anything in the newspapers, not even in the ‘books’ section. Jose who? Exactly.

When I read the BBC report on my laptop aloud in the shop, several people said, ‘Oh, no,’ as if I had just announced the death of someone they knew personally. In a way, we all did. Someone suggested we close the shop for the day. Saramago wouldn’t have liked that, I decided, and stayed open.

According to most reports, Saramago died of multiple organ failure after a long illness, although one said that he had breakfast and talked with his wife for a time before he was overcome by ill health and died.

Some regarded Saramago as the best writer in any language when he was alive. Now, his work will continue to live with those of the other all-time greats. I thought of writing an obituary, but then I said, “Will a writer like Saramago ever die? Wouldn’t it be better for him to be read, not mourned?” Below is an introduction to one of the greatest 20th century writers.

Saramago was a writer’s writer, an intellectual's writer, a humanist’s writer, a politician’s writer, among other things. When he was awarded a Nobel prize in 1998, he was reported to have said, “I was not born for all this glory.”

Although he was good in school, his family could not afford to keep him there and, at the age of twelve, he was enrolled in a technical school whereupon, after graduation, he worked as a car mechanic for two years. After that he worked as a translator, a journalist and an assistant editor.
He wrote his first novel when he was 25, and it was a flop. Then fifteen years later he started writing again -- mainly poems and plays. International recognition, however, eluded him until 1987 when Balthazar and Blimunda (which he wrote in 1982) was released internationally.

I have stopped reading writers to death (because there are so many wonderful writers and so little time), but I have made an exception of Saramago. His prose was lucid, unpretentious and direct. Despite his long sentences, I never got the feeling that he was difficult to read. He would replace full stops with commas, and didn’t believe in quotation marks (when the speaker changed, he simply capitalised the first letter and got on with it). In the hands of a lesser writer all this would have become tedious, but not with his works. His novels were fast paced and relentless, simultaneously comic and brutal. His were stories of the human condition, about the astounding capacity of man for tenderness or violence.

My first Saramago book was the History of the Siege of Lisbon (1989). Proofreader Raimundo Silva is assigned to correct a book by his publishing house. After much deliberation, he decides to ‘correct’ a crucial sentence by inserting the word "not" in the text. So the new version says that the Crusaders did not come to the aid of the Portuguese monarch in taking Lisbon from the Moors, which is contrary to the account in standard textbooks. According to ‘agreed’ history, the 1147 ousting of the Moors from Lisbon was the event that resulted in the formation of the Portuguese nation. He questions the nature of history and its relationship to truth and reality. In the end the reader is left wondering if the proofreader’s transgression resulted in a more accurate version of what really happened. As Malaysians, we are all too aware of how history can and is being changed, albeit with much less finesse than Raimundo Silva.

My attraction to Saramago has always been the universality of his writings -- a mark of all great writers. I always felt he was talking to me, the Malaysian. An epidemic of ‘white blindness’ struck the population of a fictitious country in Blindness (arguable his greatest work), leading to mass panic and the collapse of social order, highlighting the repression and ineptness of the government in dealing with the situation. It was so much like home -- a country suffering from 50 years of mass blindness with the blind fumbling as they led the blind ineptly, ruling the blind, abusing the blind, and raping the blind. Despite all that, many still prefer to remain blind, and seek comfort in the condition. No proper nouns are used throughout the book, and characters are referred to merely as the doctor, the doctor’ wife, girl with dark glasses, and so on.

The sequel to it, Seeing, involving the same people in the same city; a few years on, people begin ‘seeing’ with bizarre results. On polling day, 83% of the votes cast are blank, as the party on the right, the party on the left and the party in the middle look on. Journalists and bureaucrats are bewildered. Citizens carry on with their lives. When asked whom they voted for, the citizens remind them politely that the question is illegal. Then the government goes berserk and becomes increasingly repressive as it looks for the ringleaders, though there are none.

Does all this sound familiar? Is voting meaningless?

Saramago was a member of the Communist Party and an atheist, but that did not stop him from writing The Gospel According to Jesus Christ about a very human Jesus up against a megalomaniac of a God, while the devil tempts him with hedonism. Some have condemned this books as ‘antireligious’ while other have praised it for its ‘philosophical and compelling’ approach to the subject. (He also wrote another book on religion called Cain - the first murderer. The book has just been released.)

Saramago was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature one year after he wrote The Tale of the Unknown Island. It is one of those children’s books that are not really for children. It is a slim volume -- about 50 pages -- with illustrations. It is a deceptively simple tale full of metaphors about hope, dreaming, politics and governance. Following is a quote from the book:
"...you have to leave the island in order to see the island that we can't see ourselves unless we become free of ourselves, Unless we escape from ourselves you mean, No, that's not the same thing."

The Stone Raft deals with a hypothetical situation in which the Iberian Peninsula breaks away from Europe and drifts into the Atlantic. What if the Malay Peninsula were to break off at the Isthmus of Kra and float away, together with Sumatra, into the Indian Ocean? How would history be written?

Translation blues

2010-06-17T15:37:00.000+08:00

The most common Malaysian joke about translation is probably tahi suci, a literal rendering of ‘holy shit’ in Bahasa. Whether that was really the part of a cinema subtitle, or is merely another urban legend, is unclear. Another example often cited by cinema aficionados is tembak, tembak for ‘fire, fire’. Apparently, there were no guns involved in the story. (This problem is, by no means, confined to Malay. There are dozens of emails going around about Chinese translations. We were watching a presentation of the Beijing Opera at KLPac once. The organisers had helpfully decided to provide surtitles for the Cantonese illiterate, me included. Somewhere in the middle of the show, when an opera couple was frolicking in a make belief garden, a translation flashed, “... like butterflies fondling in the garden.” It was certainly a good rendering of the Chinese opera (for neophytes like me), but that translation simply took my breath away. I was speechless. “What ... what ... whaaat?”

Among the things we do to pay our rent, is the editing of works already translated from Malay to English. One of the earliest ones we did involved head-hunters in East Malaysia about 150 years ago. In one scene, the characters talk about a tiang belian, the ironwood main pillar of a longhouse, and this was translated as ‘purchased pillar’! Hah, you didn’t know that, did you? One hundred and fifty years ago, headhunters already had kedai runcit in the middle of the jungle selling pillars for longhouses! Then in another scene in the same novel, the hero is confronted by the leader of the hunters who beats and puffs his chest to show off kejantananya. This was translated as ‘beat his chest and shows off his manhood ...’ Flasher ... flasher!

Do translators even read over their work before submission, or do they not know any better?

Since then, we have insist on having the Malay original with us when we edit. Can you imagine this going into the international market in that form? We pick out dozens of such boo-boos in almost every book. How about this one we came across recently: “... kami cuma ada sepasang anak lembu, satu jantan dan satu betina ...” translated as “... we only have a pair of cow children, one male and one female ...”

I swear, time stood still at that point. Oh my God, it was so bad, it’s good. An Olympic gold medalist? You bet.

Then there is the prose. How is this for starters: ... mengikut tradisi tradisional yang amat berdradisi (repeated about a 150 times throughout the book). That is ‘ ... following traditional traditions that are extremely traditional’. (One might be tempted to think that this is a sure winner at the Olympics of prose until one sees the rest.) I am not a Malay scholar. I admit my knowledge of the language is purely functional, but can anyone out there tell me that this is good Malay prose? How does one edit stuff like that?

Then there are writers who love the ‘bunga-bunga’ stuff. How about this one: “The little clusters of sadness had become an island of sorrow that squeezed her in the narrows of her old age.”

Hahhh?

I can hear some people go, “Isn’t it so-oo beautiful? Like poetry?” Really? Like poetry? I am no poet, but if that isn’t an insult to the form, I don’t know what is. As far as I know, poetry lives on the economy of words, and the preciseness of their usage. This, on the other hand, is built on verbosity, diarrhoea; a writer carried away with his or her cleverness. This is the kind of stuff fifteen-year-old schoolgirls and schoolboys write to impress their friends and teachers. Anyway, does the writer even know what he or she is trying to say? As a reader, I certainly don’t. I could pretend, of course, so as not to look stupid. Read a few hundred of those and see what it does to your sanity.

This is not confined to Malay prose, either. Not too long ago there was a book that compared an earring falling into a cereal bowl to a meteor. One customer said that, when she came across this passage on page 90, she decided she had had enough. Another tossed his book across the room. This author went on to win the Man-Booker Prize for that year. There certainly is no accounting for taste.

So what is good prose? Is it merely a matter of personal taste, then? As a publisher, I have been asked that often. What do I look for in a manuscript? Okay, let me try:

Good prose is one that does not obstruct the flow of the story, nor take the attention away from it, nor bury it under a pile of verbose crap. It is like a good computer operating system: user-friendly, easy to use and elegant. It remains unobtrusively in the background, getting the job of telling a good story without screaming out for attention like an obnoxious five-year-old, “Mummy, mummy, look what I have done. See how clever I am.” Good prose is not about the cleverness of the writer. If the writer is clever, it will show. Every word, every phrase and every sentence will have to satisfy the conditions of necessity and sufficiency to earn its right to remain on the page.

Some might say I set the bar too high. After all, we are only Malaysians.

Banish that thought if you are planning to send me a manuscript.

Why we publish

2010-06-02T10:36:00.003+08:00

We have heard it said many times before, that publishing in this country, especially in English, is crazy. Very often, it appears that way. It does sometimes feel like such a monumental waste of time. We have heard this many times before: no one reads in this country. But, having been publishers for ten years now, the converse argument often appears equally valid: no one writes.

Certainly, I am putting myself on the line for some verbal bashing with that . So, let me clarify. One only has to walk into any of the dozen mega bookstores (or any of the frequent warehouse sales) in the country to witness the feeding frenzy. So, Malaysians do buy books, whether they them read or not. But, the fact remains that the vast majority of the books bought are American, British or Australian, that is foreign. Many Malaysians would go as far as to say that they only read imported books because local books are not good,though it is unclear what exactly they mean by it: the design, the paper quality, the cover, the writing, the plot, the way the characters are drawn ... what?

We have said this many many times: if one wants a customer to buy one’s book, one has to give him or her a very good reason to pick it up instead of any of the thousands of other titles in the store -- including all the foreign ones, dating back to Homer and before. As far as book selling goes, Malaysians are totally and completely globalised.

So, on a bookshop shelf, egalitarianism rules; Malaysian books stand at par with imported ones, and a customer has every right to demand to know why he/she should spend hard-earned money on your book and not another. Is it good enough? What do you have to say that is unique? How is the argument presented? Is the writing any good? Will I be embarrassed if I were to take your book out in public? Etc, etc, etc. Life is so-oo difficult.

(We have also had customers ask why local books are so expensive. This book is RM30.00, and it has only 180 pages. That is more than 16 sen a page. How can? How much does it weight? What, 275 gms? That is almost 11sen a gramme, RM110.00 a kilo! That's too much. What is it about? Is there anything about May 13 in it? No? Why not? So what if it is a book on flower arrangement? It is Malaysian, isn’t it? Surely all Malaysian books must have something about the May 13th incident ... it can’t be much good then, can it? We do have all sorts of customers.)

For Malaysian publishing to survive, there has to be a credible book industry. Expect no help from the Government and, certainly, no handouts. Even a level playing field seems too much to ask. A media, less interested in glamour and more in news could be helpful, but don’t hold your breath.

Still, we persist. Why? Firstly, we don’t think Malaysians don’t read. Secondly, we believe Malaysian writers (living in Malaysia) can compete with international writers -- Shih-Li Kow did beat Booker winner Kazuo Ishiguro and Whitbread winner Ali Smith to the shortlist of the Frank O'Connor Award -- and Malaysians living abroad, and that too without ‘pandering’ to the Western reader (or the kukumars* amongst us) with the stereotype and the dubiously exotic. (When the Slumdog Millionaire circus came to town, we heard these comments. The first was from a Malaysian who said, "(Sitting in the cinema) I could imagine those mat-sallehs around me going, 'Oh it's so wo-onderful. Isn't is so-oo Indian,' every time AR Rahman's music score came on with another 'wretched-Indian' scene." The next one was from a white expatriate lady from South Africa who found the whole spectacle quite insulting. "This is exactly what they do to Africa all the time," she said.)

Thirdly, we know of many Malaysian readers (unlike those mentioned above) who are quite willing to pay for Malaysian writing, for its unique content, voice and experience. And finally, when we discover (or develop) a writer who is as good as any internationally, who sets a standard for writing and story-telling in the country, we get a major buzz. (That does not mean we don't know how much work the author has put into it.)

But independent publishing can be a minefield, (unlike large publishing houses which are protected by several layers of anonymity).

Here is an example. One author (self published) who met a Silverfish staff on the street, wanted to know why we published so-and-so. She added that she didn't think Silverfish published 'that sort of thing'. What sort of thing? The answer should have been pretty straight forward: he is a good storyteller, he is entertaining, he is authentic and he is honest. Of course, we could not tell her that because her real question was, "Why are you publishing him, and not me?" Yes, life is so-oo difficult.

Note:
kukumars* -- a derogatory term used in some parts of India to describe those who used to work as cooks in British households, who learned to wear dresses, eat with tools, and (generally) refuse to speak any language other than English.

Why people write

2010-05-15T17:25:00.000+08:00

I heard an interesting story recently about a boy who received a book from a girl he knew in school a few years ago (though they were not particularly close, according to him), but with whom he never really kept in touch, busy with his own life. How she obtained his address, he doesn’t know, but he thinks it was through friends of friends of friends. Anyway, the book was one of her own (self-published, or what, I do not know) with a personal message inside: I am a published author now, what about you?

Was it a challenge, a brag, revenge, or simply an inquiry -- nothing to say but, “What a day, how is your boyfriend?”

This brings us to 'why people write'. Although getting rich is still the prime motivator, fame, even if only as a dilettante, is a close second. Certainly, there are many who "simply must write”, though in most case the infatuation soon passes. Even so, this adds one more reason to the list. It is often said that everyone has a story within, to which others have, cynically, replied, “Perhaps, it should remain there.” Still, many want to write.

Obviously there are many forms of writing: for newspapers, magazines and websites, or, blogs, facebook, twitter, etc. But, the most curious of all is the need to get published -- to get a book out before one is sixteen, or twenty-one, or whenever, or just get one out. Is it the pull of immortality, knowing that a book is not transient, not ephemeral, that it has more than the one day lifespan of a newspaper story, or even a blog? Is it the burning desire to make the world a better place? To tell others how to lead their lives? Or is it about putting yourself out there, stark naked, for every one to gaze at, criticise and laugh. It is scary.

Why this strange affectation?

I read this on the internet: “Young people when asked what they want to do in life rarely give a sensible answer, firefighter, racing driver or rock star, spring to mind. However, an alarming number reply ‘a writer’ simply because they are under the illusion they could be creative in that profession or medium ... People believe writing requires no special talent, but is something humanity and human beings in general are able to do.”

Writing requires no special talent. Ah, how often have we met people who profess that. Then, there are those who consider themselves to be very special indeed (albeit, grievously misunderstood), even if they really aren’t, or are only marginally so. There are some who are certainly exceptionally talented but prefer (or remain trapped in) other things for various reasons. But, there are those who enjoy telling stories, spinning a good yarn, besides reading them. They make up stories for their children, their grandchildren, and for their friends and family.

This an extract from another article on the internet: “People start writing books as a way of putting their thoughts or ideas into words. They might also feel the urge to let others know what they are thinking. Some might be avid readers, who might want to venture out into the field of writing. There might also be people who want their ideology to be shared or sometimes even forced down on people's minds ...”

Whatever.

We know that many want to be writers, for whatever reason, but few succeed. Obviously, knowing what you want to do -- that is, write -- is insufficient. There is, obviously, the next step. How? How does one go about doing it? Writing classes and workshops? These will certainly top the list on many minds, and it is undeniable that one can learn a few ‘tricks of the trade’ there. But, there is also the danger of becoming serial course attendees. We know of many.

Actually the first ‘how’ is pretty basic. Don’t talk about writing, don’t think about writing, just write. Everyday. Every single day. If one wants to become a concert pianist, can one achieve one’s goal by not practising the scales for several hours everyday? For years? Answer this truthfully: when was the last time you wrote something creatively? When you were fifteen years old in school, trying to impress your friends? When you were ten, trying to impress your parents? Betty Edwards says that the average adult has the drawing skills of a twelve-year-old, because that was the last time they were allowed to draw creatively. Go figure.

The second is also very basic. Read. Yes, read, read, read and read. Not one book, not two books. Hundreds, thousands. In all subjects. By as many authors as you can. Far too many want to become authors after reading only one book. Can one become a concert pianist if one has listened only to one piece of music, or not at all?

The third ‘how’ is time. Yes, give it time. Say, you are 35 years old, and the last time you did a creative piece of work was when you were 15. And, the only thing you have done creatively since is fill up your income tax form. Now, you have twenty years of catching up to do. While it is not going to take you that long to write, you are not going to achieve anything much in the next two weeks, two months, or even two years.

Now that you have decided that you want to become a writer, and you know how you are going to go about becoming one, there still remains one major hurdle. Absolutely, the most important one. Why? Yes, why do you want to write? If your answer is fame and fortune, please join the queue -- there are only fifty million people ahead of you. And while you are at it, go buy yourself a lottery -- you will have a far better chance of winning the jackpot.

You write because you have to write. Why does Farish A Noor write? To become rich and famous? He writes because of the fire that burns within. Shih-Li Kow, too, writes to douse those same flames, though she prefers fiction. And Salleh ben Joned. And Karim Raslan ... they write because they think they have something to say, something important. They write about the world they want to live in. They write about their wishes, their dreams. They write about hope, even when they laugh about it, or cry in despair. Time and air and light and space have, really, nothing to do with it.

And finally, there is kiasu, afraid to lose, takut kalah. If you do something, there is a chance you may lose. If you do nothing, you cannot lose. Really? It this the Malaysian malaise, or is the reverse true? Takut menang. Are we so terrified of winning, of being relevant, that we can only subsume ourselves in mediocrity? If we want a world record, we choose a sport that no one else plays: tossing roti canai. If we want the world’s tallest building, we buy it.

Is takut menang what the badminton team suffers from?

Ether Books: the iTunes of short stories?

2010-05-01T15:15:00.000+08:00

iTunes was introduced by Apple Inc on January 9, 2001, at the Macworld Expo in San Francisco. In 2003, Apple opened the iTunes Music Store and started a revolution in the music industry, one song at a time. At the time, the music industry was in turmoil over illegal downloads, and they were suing everyone in sight. (Does anyone remember Napster?) Enter Apple. In order to make it (legal downloads) to work, though, they had to convince the music industry to unbundled their albums and sell songs one at a time. That was not easy, but with a sufficiently strong reality distortion field they managed to convince the naysayers. The iTunes store started with 200,000 songs on its list (with DRM protection and all that to satisfy the industry). To date, some 10 billion songs have been downloaded.

Sophia Bartleet is now trying to do the same with Ether Books by launching an iPhone application that will allow readers to download short stories from the likes of Hilary Mantel, Alexander McCall Smith and (maybe) Shih-Li Kow, starting at GBP0.50. Sophia Bartleet thinks this will be “the renaissance of the short story."

Ether Books was launched at the London Book Fair recently. Currently, Ether Books bypasses publishers to sign up authors directly, and the application will initially be available only on the iPhone and iPod Touch. (It could be available for other devices in the future.) At the time of the launch Ether Books had 200 pieces from authors ranging from Hanif Kureshi to Paul McCartney.

It is a pretty modest start and there is no mention about how profits will be shared. That a service such as this will be a boon to short story writing is not a doubt. But will it be commercially viable? While I am totally supportive of the underdog, I believe that in a that runs on the hyperbole world, if you want to be noticed, you have to be big. Ether Books needs a lot more than 200 stories. Obviously, I have no way of knowing if she is a Steve Jobs, but I think she needs at least 20,000 stories up there to start with.

Will readers pay 50p for a story? It is nice to think that they would. In fact, I hope they do. But comparisons with the music industry are a little off, to say the least. When iTunes music store was introduced for legal downloads, music piracy was rampant. Apple bet that at least some of those involved in the illegal activity were (or had parents who were) honest or sufficiently risk averse not to want to (or want their children to) end up on the ‘other side of the law’ with all its, real or imagined, dire consequences. It was, potentially, a huge market.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the short story. There is no rampant piracy going on worldwide. One even wonders if there is a demand. In an era where bragging rights are the most sought after of currencies -- money is no good if you can’t buy something with it that you can show off -- downloaded short stories in a mobile device are not terribly sexy. Cool is, queuing up in the freezing cold overnight for a Harry Potter or Dan Brown book, no matter how daft that is.

Still, I am optimistic. There will be the big names, of course, with their fan boys. But, strangely, I think that this market actually belongs to the small guys who live on the fringe -- literally. Imagine a one stop (online) shop with thousands of short stories from small publishers from over a hundred countries all over the world -- from Asia, Africa, Europe, Americas, everywhere. Who will be the buyers? The more serious minded, I should think; those who'd like to sample writings from around the globe; academics who might consider teaching some of the stuff they find, and students who will be required to study and write about them, at a cost that is a lot less than the price of a hardback or even a paper back. I think it would be a small market, but an extremely important one.

It could open up all sorts of opportunities. It could actually revive the short story form and put it back where it belongs. We have customers who bemoan the ‘death’ of the short story, and we have those who say they ‘preferred’ to read novels, like as if they have moved on to the more ‘difficult’ stuff. (I use to think that when I was fifteen years old.) Then there are those who confess that they really cannot understand many of the short stories they read. Yes, liked in the case of all writing, there are many that require a PhD to understand.

The short story is a demanding form where every word, every sentence has to earn its right to live on the page(s). There is no room for laziness or obesity like in a novel. Hilary Mantel confesses in an interview with the BBC that it took her 12 years, on and off, to write her short story which is now available for download from Ether Books, and she certainly does not want it to be forgotten.

Here’s wishing Sophia Bartleet, and the Ether Books team, all the best in the venture, and thank you for trying to make a difference. Cheers.

Listen to the BBC World Service radio show with Sophia Bartleet, Hilary Mantel and others.

The end of an era

2010-04-16T17:03:00.000+08:00

Personanondata writes in a story entitled The Physical Book Forever After: "Many believe the physical book will disappear within in the next ten years yet the example of the music CD suggests the future of the book may be more nuanced."

The ebook question crops up every time I give a public talk (or a lecture) on the subject of publishing and writing. The first time was at a Rotary meeting at a downtown hotel about six years ago. Do ebooks mean the end of "normal" books?

I remember saying at that time that the technology was not quite in place yet; the hardware, the software, and the internet were quite there yet, though they could catch up. But more importantly, they would have to sort out the financial model, which they will, too. But still it will not be the end for the physical book entirely; they will have to coexist for quite a while.

To quote another line from the blog by Personanondata: "... after more than ten years of both legitimate and illegitimate access to down loadable music, the humble CD together, with its environmentally challenged jewel case continues to represent over 75% of music sold." (This despite the music industry being in such shambles.)

Fast forward to 2010, and I am still asked the same question. The answers to some of the questions have changed but, for others, it remains the same. Do we have the technology now? Yes. Have they sorted out the financial model? More or less. Will the physical book die? Nope.

Yes, there was another round of the "death dance" by the media when the Kindle was released two years ago. No figures have been released by Amazon, but some analysts estimate about two or three million sold in that period, and the ebook market is currently thought to be about 5% of the total. There is no question that the publishing industry is in serious trouble, but it is mainly their fault, not that of the ebooks. (A Mail Online report on 30th Dec 2009 said: "Nielsen Bookscan has found that of 86,000 new titles published in the UK in 2009, 59,000 sold an average of 18 copies." Do we need to say more?)

I met Adrian the other day and he was saying how he met someone going on a holiday and had a Kindle with him with everything he wanted (or intended) to read. Cool, he thought. Yes, true. But with an iPad I’ll be able to take along a few books, DVDs, games, my entire music collection and a whole bunch of magazines too. The Kindle is already, so, last year. (Out of the estimated 2-3 million sold, I wonder how many have already become shelf ornaments?)

Then recently, I came across this story: Alice for the iPad in MacWorld. Then, I went into the iPad store for a peek: "Tilt your iPad to make Alice grow big as a house, or shrink to just six inches tall. Enjoy Alice in Wonderland digitally remastered for the iPad.Throw tarts at the Queen of Hearts - they realistically bounce off her. Witness the Cheshire Cat disappear, and help the Caterpillar smoke his hookah pipe. This wonderful book includes 52 pages and 20 amazing animated scenes.??Watch as full screen physics modeling brings illustrations to life." All this for
USD8.99.

I want it, I want it, I want it! I want it now!

Someone has finally figured out what an ebook is all about, all in true multimedia too. If this doesn't get kids reading, nothng will. It is not about boring black and white text, it is about multimedia. Imagine what this will do to magazines and newspapers, to books on cooking, travel, sports, celebrities, anything with graphics. Thank God for it. I will certainly buy an iPad, or a device like it. Now, I can buy it without any guilt, without having to feel I am betraying my entire over-40-year collection of books.

All my hardbacks that I have bought over the years to collect, to talk about and adorn my shelves, will continue to stand proud in their finest jackets, with nothing to fear. Nor will my first editions feel slighted. I can continue to display and brag about them. (Yes, I am sad that way.) Even my-well read, yellowed, tattered paperbacks, some from my student days but which I still dip into now and then, will know that their place is safe. (By the way, can any digital file last as long? All my hard disks crash in less than 5 years.)

The book is dead. The book is dead. Long live the book.

The class system in literature

2010-04-05T11:53:00.000+08:00

Some years ago, when we were still in Desa Seri Hartamas, we were roundly scolded by one of our customers for selling John Grisham titles in Silverfish Books and having the audacity to display the titles in front of the shop. "You are not that type of bookshop," we were told, quite emphatically. Our only response was a very sheepish, "Just trying, lah. Experiment, lah." (For the record, we couldn't sell even one of his books and had to return them all -- it was a failed experiment.)

So what type of bookshop are we? We did have an idea of the type of bookshop we wanted to be when we set it up in mid-1999, right in the middle of an economic (and political) turmoil. It was before the mega bookshop era, and Skoob Books was the only decent bookshop in town. It was a time when chain bookstores had a section for "mature readers", leading to much doubt, introspection and mental trauma. Do I qualify? What if the cashier asks questions? What if she can smell fear? What if they ask for a blood sample to determine my DNA to ascertain I am mature enough? What if I fail the test? What if my friends laugh at me?

Sigh. Life was so-oo difficult.

Anyway, we wanted a bookshop with books we'd want to read, a book boutique as it were, and our customers have made sure we did not deviate from the path. They helped shape the character of Silverfish Books as much as we did, maybe more. And, consequently, we have received both bouquets and brickbats. On the upside we have been called a 'real' bookshop, a 'good' bookshop and a ‘serious’ bookshop. And, on the downside we have been called snobs, hoity-toity and, also, serious.

Book selling has many similarities with the rag trade. There are the boutiques run by designers (or those who pretend to be) for those who care. Then there are the supermarkets selling every damn thing for the consumer. And, there are the reject shops selling overruns, defective merchandise or stuff that has been on shelves for a while, for those who care less, a lot less. Basically, this is true of bookshops too.

Ian Rankin is reported to have said recently that "crime novelists have been placed at the bottom of our literary hierarchy". He was, of course speaking of the British literary scene where poets are generally regarded to be on top, followed by playwrights, and then 'literary' novelists. And after that come people who write crime, thrillers and on espionage, followed by the bottom feeders who do the rest of the stuff which we need not go into.

Some of the class system certainly seems to have filtered down to the colonies. (We shall not go into details, for we fear the wrath.) Personally, we do not subscribe to it at all (no matter how others might view us). There are good books, and there are bad books. Period. We do not necessarily have to like a book to accept some will consider it good, and vice versa. We do have a bias for good prose, though. Poor or lazy writing is so off-putting.

So, we choose every book we put on our shelves, but we do wish we have more resources to buy much more titles we like, quite a lot more. Certainly, we don't want to order every title on the list. (I have written before about why a book is not a shoe.) Unfortunately, poetry and plays are the first to be sacrificed because they really don't sell very well.

There is a rumour out there that good books are hard to read, or that good books are boring. So far, we have little evidence of that. It is a fact, good books make you think. In fact, they mandate thinking. Now, if thinking is considered hard work, then that is another matter.

For the original article see The Guardian

Censorship and the stupidification of a nation

2010-03-16T10:59:00.000+08:00

According to The Sydney Morning Herald, Paris-based media rights watchdog, Reporters Without Borders, has listed Australia along with Iran and North Korea in a report on countries that pose a threat of internet censorship. So, another one bites the dust. Join the club. This is how it all begins. Been there, done that, wearing the T-shirt.

Censorship always provokes extreme emotional responses. Proponents deflect it by, self-righteously frothing in the mouth, arguing Asian (or any such) values. But Kamasutra is also banned in this country. Well, so much for that. Or maybe they think it comes from Europe.

The opponents can go on and on about freedom of speech and human rights, which are not noble thoughts and arguments, but mean nothing in the face of naked power. I was once persuaded to attend a meeting on censorship organised by a local NGO, and managed to piss off almost everyone. "Look, I have heard plenty about human rights and freedom of speech and all that today," I said. "You really don't need to convince me. I belong to the converted. You have to decide how you'd preach to the unconverted, explain to them why freedom of speech is better than censorship."

So, is freedom of speech better than censorship?

To quote US Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes (not that I consider the US to be a paragon in respect of either human rights or freedom of speech -- censorship takes many insidious forms), "... ultimate good desired is better reached by free trade in ideas -- that the best test of truth is the power of thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market ..."

In other words: every idea has a right to exist, and has to be allowed to exist and compete freely with other views, particularly the entrenched ones, in a marketplace of ideas. While the benefit of this to the individual and to the country is obvious, why should naked power care? If one were the incumbent, why would, or should, one care about any view other than one's own, even if it is better, particularly if it threatens one's position of power?

John Stuart Mills, in his essay On Liberty, is clearer. "The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error."

So, censorship is a lose-lose proposition. In short, it robs the nation and its people of the benefit of new ideas. Nothing can explain it more clearly than the case of Galileo (although there are thousands of other examples). Stephen Hawking says, "Galileo, perhaps more than any other single person, was responsible for the birth of modern science." Galileo's unstinting support of Copernicus heliocentric theory (which many other chicken-shit philosophers and physicist of the time supported, but dared not speak out in support), which was in direct opposition to the geocentric view held by the church, earned him a date with the inquisition and lifelong house arrest. But, if it weren't for the likes of him we would, certainly, never have had the iPhone.

Still, it does not solve the power equation. There are long-term benefits of free speech, certainly, but why should one care if one were in power, for surely one would have no desire to lose it? Why should one not simply let the country rot, as long as one can enrich oneself? There are enough examples of that in the world today.

Bertrand Russell wrote (okay, I confess, he was my schoolboy hero, and I was a nerd, but I also read Batman): "An attitude of obedience, when it is exacted from subordinates, is inimical to intelligence. In a community in which men have to accept, at least outwardly, some obviously absurd doctrine, the best men must become either stupid or disaffected. There will be in consequence, a lowering of intellectual level, which must, before long, interfere with technical progress. This is especially true when the official creed is one which few intelligent men can honestly accept."

He said further: "The Nazis have exiled most of their ablest Germans, and this must, sooner or later, have disastrous effects on their military technique." Now, this was written before the start of the Second World War. We all know what happened after that.

In the sixties our universities were world-class, the pride of the developing world, among the best in Asia. Now, we struggle to be counted. Students, those who can afford to, go overseas. They don't even want to consider attending a local one if they can help it, whatever the quota. As for the quality of the graduates, one need only ask our employers. Since the eighties we have lost thousands of our skilled workers overseas, not for reasons of economics, but due to real or imagined sense of injustice and an intolerable climate of intellectual asphyxiation. We have lost the battle to attract the life saving FDI because our workers are no longer considered competitive. Our civil service is constantly in the press, fire-fighting the results of poor decision-making. We hear of police confiscating books from shops one day, and ministers promoting reading the next. Even our football team is languishing. It is as if thinking itself has been outlawed.

Some may point to the eighties when civil servants were told to sit up, shut up, and punch clocks, when we sacrificed our young at the altar of Mammon for some to get unbelievably rich, when bad news was banned, when argument and debate ended, and when wisdom flowed from only one source. It was the end of dissent, the end of thought.

Now the high points in our life include talking about roti canai tossing competitions in Subang Jaya and teh tarik experiments in outer space. Oh yes, we also have a committee for winning Nobel Prizes.

Stupidification is not a condition, it is a process. We are not born stupid, but we can get there if we try hard enough.

Censorship by harassment

2010-03-01T16:21:00.000+08:00

"... there is a widespread belief that doctrinal uniformity is essential to national strength," Bertrand Russell wrote in his treatise on power in 1938. But he also said, "... the most successful nations, throughout modern times, have been those least addicted to the persecution of heretics."

I remember reading these years ago when I was in school, and I wondered if Russell's views can somehow be proven wrong, without anyone noticing, that is. In Malaysia, 'book police' are back in the news after a short absence. Interestingly, this has happened very soon after Sister in Islam (SIS) won its court battle over the 'banning' of one of its books. Sorry for the cynicism, but one cannot help but wonder. It could be a coincidence, of course, but Malaysia does have a pretty long track record for 'censorship by harassment'.

Censorship is probably as old as writing itself, but it took on a whole new dimension from the 12th to the 16th century in Europe. Basically, reading was outlawed to all but the clerics since they were the only ones allowed to interpret the Bible. Lay people were lay people, sheep, or rakyat, not endowed with enough intelligence to make any decision for themselves. With the invention of the Gutenberg press and the printing of the Gutenberg Bible, things really came to a head. In theory, any lay person who could read, or was suspected of being able to do so, or, god forbid, be in possession of a Bible, was arrested, imprisoned, tortured and/or killed by various methods including being burnt at the stake, hanged, drawn and quartered, pulled apart by horses, drowned, impaled, and several other creative means. In reality, many were political opponents, or those who had gone out of favour, or merely casualties of random victimisation. By some estimates, 9 million people lost their lives, and many more -- presumably those who repented -- were left lame.

We all know how that ended. 'Censorship through terror' did not work then, and never has. Throughout history, 'book police' have always lost. But that does not seem to stop them.

Certainly, our own home grown variety of 'book police' are not quite that crude. Some years ago, we put up a list of so-called banned books on our website, 'so-called' because many were not actually banned by the Ministry. We do not know what actually happened in the background after that, but we can guess. All of a sudden there was a deafening silence from every direction; book distributors refused talk to us, especially about that dreaded 'b' list. It was as if omerta, a code of silence, had come into force. Many books we wanted to order became unavailable. Many distributors refused to import books for us, even if we paid them in advance, particularly if it had a 'banned' word in the title, or on the possibility that cover design could offend one ultra-sensitive individual living in Batang Berjuntai, or somewhere. (No prizes for guessing the words.)

The recent confiscation of multiple copies of several titles from bookshops around the country is interesting. Firstly these books have been in the market for over a year and anyone who wants one has already bought it. It could be another case of closing the stable doors after the horses have gone, something we do have a track record for. Or, it could be something more sinister.

Why do enforcement officers -- what an ostentatious name, indeed -- need to take multiple copies of a book if they only want to 'read them' for anything prejudicial to the security of the country, even if they say please. Wouldn't one copy do? Couldn't they get one from the publishers?

Recently, several copies of the first two titles were taken from one outlet of a chain stores on grounds that the books might have 'suspicious content'. A memo went out to its other outlets to have them all to be removed from the shelves. Diabolical, but effective. The bookstore will get a credit note from the distributor, who will in turn get one from the publisher. And the bookstore will, in future, be very hesitant to sell other titles by the same authors, or from the 'offending' publisher. (Remember the Salman Rushdie incident: although only one title is officially banned, all others have become endangered species in the country.) Why bother to ban books and have that gazette challenged in court, when this is so much more effective?

Inquiries are probabley a waste of time, omerta might already be in force.

Why I don't join book clubs

2010-02-17T14:59:00.000+08:00

Reading Motoko Rich's story, The Book Club With Just One Member, I couldn't help thinking that she was writing about me. I love to read, but I really do not like to talk about books I read, which puts me a bind sometimes, being a bookseller and a publisher. When people walk into the store and ask me for a good read, it is quite easy. But when they ask me what the book is about, I get stumped. First of all, does a book have to be about something? Secondly, a good book is about many things, all at the same time, and that is its beauty. And different people will walk away from it taking different things with them, and the book will still remain whole. But, usually, I can tell them quite easily what a book is not about: it is not self-help, it is not management, and so on.

Fortunately, most of my customers do not expect a blow-by-blow account of the entire plot. All I need to tell them is how the prose leaves a pleasant after-taste in the mouth, or how full-bodied and big it is, or warn them that 'this is strong stuff'. Yes, it is almost like describing wine. Most understand, even love my suggestions, but a few will still want to know, "So, what is the story about?"

I have never liked taking apart a book, even when I was young, particularly ones I liked, I considered good. Thank God I didn't major in literature. All that deconstruction would have killed it for me. I often recommend good books to others, of course, but a 'you must read this' or a 'read this and tell me what you think' will be the extent of my spin. And all I would want in response would be a 'wow' or an 'oh my God!'. In my world, good books must be savoured and enjoyed whole, not talked about to death.

Certainly, I am obsessive. I do understand book clubs and the roles they play, and why people like to join them, even online ones. Why, I have even helped organise several, but I have preferred not to become a member of any. If I read something and I like, or can relate to a line, a sentence, a phrase or even a word, I do not like to strip it, take it apart, and parade it naked in front of a dozen prying eyes in public. Go on now, go! Go find your own personal moment, line, phrase, word or whatever! Go, parade that all you want, if you want. For me, let me enjoy my private moments with my books, moments that will live with me for years, or decades. I might mention it to someone special, someone close, someone whom I know will understand, in private as if at a confession. But, I would prefer not to go starkers in public.

So, that is why I do not join book clubs. Please do not misunderstand. It is nothing personal. Please join as many clubs as you want, and enjoy them. As Motoko Rich says, "The collective literary experience certainly has its benefits. Reading with a group can feed your passion for a book, or help you understand it better. Social reading may even persuade you that you liked something you thought you didn't."

But I am different. You might have heard the saying, "If you can talk about it, it ain't Tao." Or, to quote Louis Armstrong, "If you have to ask what jazz is, you'll never know." Reading, for me, is like that. It is a total body experience.

Read Motoko Rich's story in the New York Times

It's the iTablet, stupid!

2010-01-14T14:04:00.000+08:00

One report says that not since Moses came down from Mount Sinai has there been this much excitement over a bunch of tablets. Though no one knows if something like this even exists (Apple refuses to comment officially) it has been described as an "iPhone on steroids", as "some sick shit" with "out of control" multi-touch gestures (all serious compliments in geek-speak). It was the undisputable star at the recent Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas, the biggest and most influential consumer electronics exposition in the world, and the thing (if it exists) was not even on show! (Apple Inc, does not participate in the annual CES nor, of late, even at the (privately organised) MacWorld Expo, a show devoted to products manufactured by the company.)

It is as if one cannot read a single tech site without running into another iTablet or iSlate rumour. Even the Wall Street Journal and several other non-tech newspapers and magazines seem to be in the act. Chris Maxcer of MacNewsworld writes: "As the Apple tablet rumour frenzy blows way past the level of a fever pitch, I'm starting to reconcile myself with the notion that we may -- within a few weeks -- finally hear from Apple. The company is widely expected to make a public announcement Jan 27 or so, though again, the expectation isn't due to Apple, it's due to a report stating the company has rented a stage at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco ... What might Apple announce?"

Exactly. So, what might Apple announce? Its first quarter results? At this year's CES, there were three tablet PCs on offer: one HP tablet running Windows 7 that supports multitouch and an accelerometer (like the iPhone and the iPod Touch) that will be released in mid year selling for around USD500, and others from Pegatron and Archos -- no info. I watched a video of Steve Balmer (CEO of Microsoft) introduce the HP device at the end of his keynote address. The device looked like a Kindle wannabe that had been hijacked for the show just to beat an Apple announcement, in case there is one. The devices looked lame, and the charade was sad.

The ebook is, of course, the gadget of the moment and everyone wants to ride the bandwagon. (Amazon announced that they sold more ebook downloads than physical books for the first time on Chrismas Day, 2009, though they didn't give out numbers or details. They are good with smoke and mirrors.) Among the ebooks out in the market, Barnes & Noble has the Nook at USD259, Amazon the new Kindle DX that will cost USD489, Samsung has announced E6 and E101 selling at USD399 and USD699, respectively, and Plastic Logic will be selling two Que proReader units for USD649 (4 GB) and USD799 (8 GB).

Over all these looms the huge shadow of the Apple iTablet, a gadget that does not yet exists in any shape or form, but one which everyone is sure will be announced soon. Speculated to cost between USD700-USD900, it has spooked an entire industry. No one dares to breathe, no one dares to make a sudden movement, or any movement. The whole scene is almost comical. No, it is all so hilariously funny. No one can prove it is there, but everyone is sure it is, and they all wait with bated breaths for Zeus to hurl his thunderbolt, and change the game. Once again.

Or, it might be like Waiting for Godot where (as someone said) nothing happens, twice.

It has been a mad mad mad mad year

2009-12-31T16:28:00.001+08:00

It sometimes feels like all news coming out of the book industry these days is bad.

Publisher's Weekly reports on a pre-Christmas Bowker PubTrack Consumer service survey in the US: "... 34% of Americans have reduced the number of books they are buying, while 19% of consumers are either buying more used books or swapping books with others. Other ways consumers are looking to save money when buying books include buying fewer hardcovers and more paperbacks, and only buying books that are being sold at steep discounts or that are on sale. And in a direct contrast to the hope that consumers might buy books as an inexpensive form of entertainment, only 2% of consumers said they are buying more books as an alternative to more expensive kinds of entertainment."

News reports also suggest that the tiny e-book market is booming, but it is difficult to say how much of it is hype. Besides, we have to approach the numbers with caution. If a company sold 1 e-book last year and sells 2 this year, it reflects a growth of 100%, but not quite enough to set the world aflame. To make things worse, a recent PC World report says that we should brace ourselves for e-book piracy. "We are now seeing large volumes of e-books being pirated on everything from file-sharing networks to Websites," says Ed McCoyd of the Association of American Publishers, and the Hachette Book Group says that e-book piracy has grown "exponentially" over the past year. PC World has found virtual bookshelves full of with pirated e-book titles ranging from popular fiction and nonfiction, to college textbooks and how-to e-books for the Amazon Kindle, Sony Reader, or Barnes & Noble Nook.

But there are those who have found opportunities.

Although massive advances that used to be the norm have dried up, publishers are looking desperately for the next 'insanely great' first novel, says Alan Rinzler in his blog post. He has been speaking to Jay Schaefer, a publishing veteran, who says: "Everybody's looking for the next big thing -- a work of great literary fiction from an unknown writer who's never been published ... No question, good debut novels are getting snapped up and published." Well, writers, what are you waiting for? But he also says. "We've declined a lot of well crafted but empty stuff. You know, I think too many writers have been influenced by American Idol. They want to leap out of the chute, and win the literary lottery without working that hard."

He also has some useful tips: "Don't be in a rush to publish. Make sure it's as good as you can make it. Get some reliable feedback before you show it to an agent or publisher. Consult with a professional, a literary coach, take an advanced class in writing, or hire an independent editor."

And another story in the Daily Finace says Vanity Publishing Is Booming, and the Big Houses Want In (at a Price). Apparently, there is a lot of money in POD, although this is not necessarily from book sales. One report says that on an average around 41 copies of a POD book are sold in total, mostly by the authors themselves. So, there is real money to be made from writers who are willing to pay to be published (and to buy their own books). On-demand and short-run services are making a lot of money, with an approximately 132% sales jump in 2008 while the rest of the industry is in doldrums. Recently, romance publisher Harlequin announced it was getting into the pay-to-publish game with a new imprint, DellArte Press. (Some writers' and readers' groups have down-graded Harlequin as a result, but hey, go where the money is.)

Finally, Chinese writer Mian Mian, author of Panda Sex about China's underworld of sex, drugs and nightlife, (most of her work is banned in China) is suing Google for digitising her book without her approval. She wants 61,000 yuan (US$8,950) and a public apology. Yet, another good way to make money.

With that, we wish all reader a Happy and (in true Asian fashion) a Prosperous New Year. 2010 should be a good year. After all, it is the year of the Tiger.

Schadenfreude

2009-12-16T14:19:00.001+08:00

Schadenfreude is a German word that derives from Schaden, "adversity, harm", and Freude, "joy". It basically means deriving joy from other people's misfortune. That appeared to be the case of this gentleman -- not a regular -- who came into the shop last week. I was not in, so this is the story I was told.

He walked around the store for a bit and picked up a book. Then, at the cashier's counter, he hesitated, hemmed and hawed for a while before popping the question that was burning his brain:

"Do you have that book?"

"What book?"

"The book that has been taken off the shelves."

"You mean banned?"

"No, no, the other one ... the ... the one that was plagiarised."

"Sorry. They have all been withdrawn."

"But you are the publisher ... don't you still have stock of it?"

"No."

"Not even one?"

"No."

But, this gentleman has been the exception. It's not that shadenfraude is un-Malaysian. (I mean, we do love to stand around and watch train wrecks and motor accidents, like everyone else.) Most of the messages we received have actually been supportive. But as Robert says, "...being so smart how can she be so stupid." Sharon maintains, "...I don't think the girl should be tarred and feathered - it doesn't serve anyone's interests," and Kok Yee's reaction is, "I can't believe this!!!!What was she thinking?...Sigh. Such a sad waste of her talent."

Some have wondered if the book could be reissued without that story. But, we disagree. It is a sad situation, but now, everything else she has written becomes suspect. Some have expressed exactly that view, and no one can blame them for it.

For the record, all copies of the book have been withdrawn from circulation and will be pulped, and the author has made her public apology. She acknowledges that she was wrong and does not defend her actions except, perhaps, plead naivete. Maybe she -- due to her age -- didn't realise just how serious a matter it was. But, now she knows. (In addition to that posted on the net, she has sent me a personal letter.) It is a lesson learnt -- a though one, but a lesson nevertheless. She is only 18, and it will hurt like hell, but she must have grown up one hell of a lot in just one day.

We will never know why exactly she did it, considering that she is actually very talented. Maybe she is not sure of the reasons herself.(Her parents have accepted that what she did was wrong.) But she deserves to be allowed to get on with her life (and there is still much of it left), and we sincerely wish her the best.

Waiting for Utopia

2009-11-30T14:06:00.000+08:00

And now for something completely different. (Apologies, Monty Python.) The last time there was so much excitement over the launch of an operating system for a microcomputer -- that's what they used to be called before IBM started using the term Personal Computer, or PC, that soon came into general use -- was during the release of Windows 3.0 in 1990 (generally considered a ripped-off version of the Macintosh operating system, although the latter lost the resulting court cases). Reading the write-ups about the soon-to-be-released (though not for another year) Google Chrome OS, one could be forgiven for thinking that this is going to be the next coming of a messiah.

The main reason Chrome OS has generated so much excitement is because, one thinks, it is coming from Google -- a company that seemingly makes no mistakes. (There are those who, despite all its success, still dismiss Google as a one-trick pony, but that is another story -- or is it actually part of this one?) It is also believed by many that Google is the only company on the planet that can teach the evil Microsoft empire a lesson, and to give them a good whupping! Apple appears to be quite content to control the BMW corner of the computer market. Linux is still considered very much a geek's tool, although its actual penetration is quite amazing and most computer users interacted with it on a daily basis without realising it -- online shopping, forums, web surfing, office backend systems and so on.

But that is not the sort of anonymity Google seeks. They want to change the world. They want to do what Apple did in 1984 with its "Big Brother" commercial (directed by Ridley Scott): shatter the old world order. Big Brother at that time was IBM and the screening of that ad (more than even the Macintosh itself) is now considered a watershed event in the history of the microcomputer. (I have seen it several times, and even now it gives me goose flesh -- you can still watch it on Youtube.) The euphoria that surrounded Microsoft when it launched Windows in 1990, was more a collective sigh of relief at being released from its own DOS operating system rather than the slaying of a monster dragon. (Macintosh' computers were way too expensive then, costing an equivalent of a present-day space tourism flight -- relatively.)

The Google PC operating system is open source, meaning it will be available free of charge. Application programmes (also generally free but supported by ads) will be available in the cloud, as will storage. So computers will come in entirely "potong" modes! No hard disc, no CD-Roms, and definitely no floppies. Completely wireless. No native software, only the web. Sounds too good to be true?

But some, like Wired.com are wondering if Google should not be showing some humility instead of crowing like they are. But crowing is very much a part of their DNA (and in the DNA of most computer companies where the hyperbole rules, with the possible exception of Linux), and the louder you crow the more famous you are. (See how Amazon crowed itself to profit.) Google says that they are initially targeting lightweight Netbooks, which will come preinstalled with the operating system.

It is an idealistic vision; a future where only the web exists, and computers become cheap throwaway machines, but many say it is realistically several years away. Initially, it will be a toy. (But then, so are most computers now!) The first concern most people will raise would be software, but Google says there are web alternatives for everything. Really? For my Illustrator, my Photoshop?

Google wants us to give up the computing environment we are used to, as we know it and leave everything on the web. Everything? Including that novel you are writing? That would take a serious paradigm shift, indeed! Unfortunately, my personal concerns are more mundane. I am a creature who likes to own things. Okay, I am a greedy materialist. I like to hoard stuff. If it is on my computer, I own it. Steve Jobs knew that when he introduced the wildly popular iTunes and iPod, and he has been proven right; most people like to own their music, not rent them. No one has managed to come up with a successful music rental model yet. But then, there is the radio. How do we explain that? Don't we mostly listen to it when we are not paying attention? But it is free. Free! That word again.

Times are a-changing, and it is getting interestinger and interestinger, and scarier. But for now I'll stick to my trusty MacBook, and perhaps install Chrome on Parallels, or Boot Camp partition to play around with it a bit. I don't think I am quite ready for Utopia yet. It's scary.

Missing ingredient in Malaysia: culture

2009-11-16T14:45:00.000+08:00

I do like to see what Dato' Johan Jaafar has to say every Saturday in the NST, especially about literature, though I do not necessarily agree with everything he says. In a recent column entitled Literature may be missing ingredient in our lives, he suggests that, perhaps, this is the fundamental difference between Malaysia and Indonesia: that they take their culture seriously, while we don't. He was referring to the brouhaha about the use of ketoprak and tarian pendet to promote local tourism, and the furore over our alleged propensity to menklaim Rasa Sayang and Suliram as our own. (He was writing in reference to the Deputy Higher Education Minister Datuk Saifuddin Abdullah's suggestion that 'science stream and engineering students' should be offered literature as part of their curriculum).

So, are we finally ready for some sort of intellectual debate then?

Culture is sancrosanct

He says: "... to the Indonesians, culture is sacrosanct.

"We erroneously believe that the ones protesting are in the minority ... (but almost) every scholar, artist and journalist in Indonesia is adamant that Malaysia has no right ...

"... they (the scholars) all agree, carrying bamboo spears and 'hunting' for Malaysians in the markets ... and ... carrying banners to ganyang (crush) Malaysia do not represent the majority.

"But the argument that Malaysians menklaim their culture is more than just about national pride. It is about sending the message that they take their culture seriously."

Absoutely. We certainly do not take our culture seriously. How long will us take to understand that tourism promotion dances are tourism promotion dances, not culture? There are others who can make a much better case for makyong, menora, wayang kulit or even bangsawan, for that matter, than I can, so I shall confine my comments to literature.

Cultural identity

Dato' Johan continues: "We were 'brought up' in a different manner, if you like. The Indonesians developed a strong cultural identity ... They believe in 'oneness' ... and the articulation of a single bangsa -- Bangsa Indonesia.

"... Our priorities are different. We believe in diversity, in fact the mantra 'strength in diversity' has put us in positions of difficulty at times."

Really? Haven't we heard this enough times? Was it 'strength in diversity" that put us in difficulty, or was that due to something else altogether? Granted diversity is our strength, but what have we used that strength all these decades for, apart from making us an economic powerhouse, and a nation with an unhealthily high corruption index?

The baby is dead

For decades we were told that only one form of writing was acceptable, with war cries of nationhood built into it. Anything not written in bahasa could not be considered as our writing, we were told. But what has happened to literature in bahasa? I remember how it used to flourish in the seventies and the eighties. Congratulations to Dr Anwar Ridhwan for being made a National Laureate this year. The last person to receive the award before him was S Othman Kelantan in 2001. Is it fair to assume that no one else deserved it in the eight-year period in between? Surely, the good Dato' can see the sad state bahasa literature is currently in. Imagine this. A baby has been put in the charge of a minder. The baby dies (from neglect or abuse, no one knows). But, the minder not only continues to coo and dandle the swaddled bundle, but still celebrates birthdays and anniversaries with extravagant public displays, like everything is hunky dory. Is anyone fooled? Aren't there enough people saying that the emperor has no clothes?

Fortunately, there is still a lot of writing in bahasa out there, though much of it would not be classified as literature. Not yet, anyway. I have seen a lot of passion, wit and vitality in them, and the last thing they need is to be swaddled and smothered. They need to grow. They need to be allowed to grow. They are produced mainly by fringe groups now, and are a little uneven, works in progress, but they may be the only hope for the future of writing in bahasa in this country. Anyone who has read Kasut Biru Rubina will tell you that it is so. And, believe you me; they shun the institutions like poison.

Fostering book mindedness

India too has a national book institution: The National Book Trust of India (NBT) was set by their first prime minister, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, in 1957. From the website:

"Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru believed that India could develop as a democratic self-reliant and forward-looking society only in an environment of intellectual stimulation. In this context, he felt that effective measures should be taken to foster book mindedness amongst people of different ages and walks of life.

"The National Book Trust was never visualised as just another publishing house, competing with other Indian publishers.... (but) as a catalyst to encourage publishers ... "

The NBT supported writing in all languages used in India. The rest, as they say, is history.

Singaporean envy

Ironically, after all these decades of what can only be described as suppression, Malaysia has become somewhat famous internationally for writing in English! (So much so that some Singaporeans are somewhat envious of us.) I receive queries from (sometimes I get badgered by) foreign publishers and literary agents all the time for manuscripts by Malaysian writers. They cannot understand that Malaysian writers who write in English are simply those who do so despite the system, those who have fallen through the cracks, so to speak, and that there are really not that many of them around.

Chinese and Tamil

Some years ago an academic from a local university said this: "Who says there is no Malaysian literature? Of course, there is. It is only that it's in Chinese."

Malaysian Chinese literature, I have been told, is of international standard, on par with works originating from Taiwan and Hong Kong, but better than that from Singapore. (Since I cannot read Mandarin, I have to take their word for it.) The biennial international competition run by Sin Chew has been called the Chinese Booker -- an exaggeration, perhaps. But never mind. I was once shown a literary pullout from a local Chinese daily. Like I said, I cannot read Mandarin. But two words in Roman alphabets, within brackets, stood out on the same page: [BORGES] and [BUKOWSKI]. I have yet to see any other local daily discuss anything remotely more intellectual than Harry Potter.

As for Tamil literature, I have been told it still exists, though barely. I understand that circulation is poor and authors attempt to recover costs by organising book launches and holding 'auctions'. There are, apparently, fewer and fewer Tamil readers nowadays. A ray of hope seems to be coming from a rather unlikely corner though: with the abolition of the teaching of science and maths in English, more Indian parents are beginning to send their children to Tamil schools!

Chili crab

So, is there such a thing as Malaysian literature? Yes there is, but it survives in many forms. What is vital is some acceptance and recognition. Perhaps then we can lay claim to our very own cultural cachet. In the meantime, I guess we will have to continue to live with Indonesian condescension.

And, while we are at it, let's drop the chili crab nonsense right now.

New Straits Times

The McBook wars

2009-10-29T16:40:00.000+08:00

The one important lesson history teaches us is that 'history teaches us nothing'. (I guess the big guy also needs to laugh and entertainment himself now and then. Look at those fools ... look at 'em shooting themselves... look at 'em.)

Wal-Mart started by offering upcoming hardcover releases of Sarah Palin's Going Rogue and John Grisham's Ford County, amongst others at US$10 with shipping.

Amazon.com matched it. Wal-Mart took its offer to US$9. Next morning, Amazon.com also had US$9 books.

Richard Nash, Indie publisher and literary tweeter, says "Since Amazon/Walmart/Target prices lower than wholesale @kashbk suggests indie cancel orders from pblshers & order them from giants!"

Absolutely!

In the Klang Valley in November alone, some half a million books will be available at warehouse and remaindered prices with (rumour has it) a third from local publishers and distributors including a substantial quantity from Singapore. Yes, its called dumping. It is probably illegal. As far as we know there are strict laws governing 'sales', although anything can be 'arranged'. This is kow thim country. But, what's really going on? Is someone big going down? Sure sounds like a closing down sale to me, even if it is done by proxy.

Meanwhile, if you are a book retailer, you should know where you need to be.

Most people think that the current form of the book industry has been around forever. Actually no. The Net Book Agreement in the UK was ruled illegal only in March 1997 and, and by 2009, 500 independents closed down as a result. (Dillons and Waterstones actually started offering books on discount in 1991 -- still, not all that long ago).

The book, then, officially became a shoe in the UK, and thus entered the McBook.

Book retailing once used to be seen as an interaction of a consumer with a specialist shop. That model is, largely, not applicable anymore. By the late 1990s only 45% of sales were by specialists whose core business was bookselling.

I looked at history and dug up some interesting facts, that it always takes a crisis to inject some sense into the industry. The current pattern of the book trade was, more or less, defined in England at the start of the nineteenth century -- publishers injected the risk capital, wholesalers distributed and retailers sold the books to the public. (The practice of remaindering also began around then, in 1790, to clear old stock to make way for the new.) But the industry was bedevilled by cash flow and undercutting, particularly, at the booksellers end. In 1829, in the aftermath of the banking crisis of 1826, a group of major publishers and booksellers tried to impose some sort of stability into the system with the Bookselling Regulations, which fixed trade and retail prices. Unfortunately, the committee that formulated the Regulations did not fully represent the industry. Then in the expanding economies of the 1830s, these Regulations were deemed no longer necessary. (Talk of short memories.)

There was another attempt at reviving the Regulations in some form in 1848, but the protesters (who included Charles Dickens and Alfred Tennyson) won the day. The times were too good. Free trade and laissez-faire were the buzzwords of the period. Unfortunately, but predictably, this defeat was extremely bad for the industry. By 1880, it became a major crisis for booksellers, with publishers threatened with the prospect of being cut off from the market due to a shortage of retail outlets.

Then in 1890 Frederick Macmillan, who inherited his well-established family business, proposed that books should be published with 'net' retail prices with a discount to the bookseller to ensure a reasonable margin. Retailers who broke the rules were cut off. Despite initial protests, this 'net agreement' spread through the industry ensuring stability and growth. The industry could not ignore the enthusiasm for Macmillan's initiative. A London Bookseller's society was formed around then and, in 1895, the society became the Associated Booksellers of Great Britain and Ireland (which later became the Booksellers Association).

The Net Book Agreement survived up to 1997.

Biblio: A History of British Publishing by John Feather.

Understanding the Google deal

2009-10-15T13:50:00.001+08:00

In her weekly video podcast, German Chancellor Merkel appeals for more international co-operation on copyright protection and says that her government opposes Google's drive to create online libraries full of scanned books.

Last month French publishing house La Martinière, the French Publishers' Association and an authors' group asked a Paris court to fine Google €15m (£14m) and €100,000 for each day it continued "to violate copyright" by digitising their books.

In the US, the Authors Guild and the American Association of Publishers have asked for the Fairness Hearing into the Google Settlement to be postponed as they seek to address concerns raised by the US Justice Department last week.

So is Google the new evil empire?

The more I read about the reactions to the 'Google Deal' the more it sounds like it. I am confused. But when Microsoft and Amazon complain about it, I cannot help but get a little suspicious. What the hell is going on?

Depending on which report you read, Google has so far digitised 7 to10 million books from major libraries, with many of the out-of-copyright (OOC) books made available for free limited browsing, with links to libraries that have them and bookstores where one could buy a copy. That's one heck of a lot of work with little monetary benefit to Google as far as I can see. (It's a pretty good service, and I use it often for research). Altruism? Or is there another motive?

Then after years of negotiations (in an effort to resolve a 2005 lawsuit brought by the Authors Guild and others) a deal was announced according to which Google would pay US$125m to create a Book Rights Registry with which authors and publishers could register works and be paid for books and other publications that are put online.

Microsoft, together with Yahoo, Amazon, some professors and state attorneys (calling themselves the Open Book Alliance), warn that Google and America's publishers are "misusing the judicial system" to create a "monopoly in digital books." And the whole project is now in jeopardy.

The Open Book Alliance -- or “Sour Grapes Alliance,” as Google calls it -- says: “The mass digitization of books promises to bring tremendous value to consumers, libraries, scholars, and students ... The Open Book Alliance will work to advance and protect this promise. And, by protecting it, we will assert that any mass book digitization and publishing effort be open and competitive.”

The Alliance claims: "Many startling challenges to copyright and competition policy lie buried in the settlement’s 300+ pages ..." It spells out how the settlement is not good for consumers and book-lovers, libraries and schools, authors and small publishers (especially Google's opt-out deadline), and that it sets a dangerous precedent.

I am all for open competition, serving schools and libraries, and hate that Google deadline thing. But why are Microsoft, Amazon and Yahoo involved? As Marcellus says to Horatio: Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

As far as consumer interests are concerned, I cannot disagree with Tim Wu of Slate. A project such as this can only be a boon to academics, researchers of all kinds and even the curious lay-reader. It would allow one to venture far off the beaten track, to dig up obscure, but extremely, useful material that would otherwise disappear from our culture for good.

But is the deal exclusive to Google? Can Microsoft and others not establish their own digital libraries of scanned material -- if they are willing to spend their time and money?

From the Cork Republic

2009-09-30T17:25:00.000+08:00

There are too many things I hate about travelling, especially flying. I hate the packing, the initial drive to the airport, the waiting, the checking-in, the crotch-grabbing security frisk, the crammed seats, the taxiing, the take-off, my ears popping and my head feeling woozy, the constant drone, the plastic drinking cups, the stale micro waved food, the toilets and the dreadful shaking of the plane just as you are trying to aim, the inability to 'go' because your entire rhythm is upset, the entertainment system that never works right when you want it to, the moron sitting in front who is insistent on reclining his seat and the one next to you on the inside going for a pee every 30 minutes, the fasten-your-seat-belts sign during a turbulence that convinces you that you are going to die, the inability to sleep but getting a crick in the neck regardless, the waiting at a foreign airport in transit, finally arriving and having the immigration officer look at you like you are a terrorist, waiting for your bags while you are dog tired and hoping it has not travelled to another city, and finally getting a taxi to your hotel. So I cannot understand why people travel, especially those who do it entirely for bragging rights ... 'oh, you should have been there, it was so-oo won-der-ful' type.

My journey to Cork was all of that except for the last part: Jennifer Matthew was there at the airport to pick us up -- me and my wife -- and Pat Cotter came to visit at the hotel as soon as I got there. With that special touch of Irish hospitality, my tiredness and irritation vanished. (Actually, I was really surprised to see Jennifer because I hadn't told anyone which flight I was taking exactly -- they simply worked through some assumptions and got it right, spot on. Incredible.)

I missed Shih-Li's reading because it was on the 17th and I arrived only on the 18th, but from what I heard from the others, it went off very well. Shih-Li said that everything was pretty low-keyed, and I didn't understand what she meant until I went to one of the readings. It was at four in the afternoon, and there were about thirty people. I get a bigger turnout at Silverfish readings, I thought, and Shih-Li confirmed that this is how it was. Where are the people of Cork, I asked? Maybe they have too many events like this, she said. I couldn't buy that. This was a major international event for God's sake, with one of the biggest prize money, and there are posters everywhere too. Not to mention that the Irish have such a rich literary tradition. Why, even the restaurant we had lunch in, had a whole wall dedicated to handsomely mounted poems by Irish poets -- Seamus Heaney and Pat Cotter amongst them.

Cork is not a big city, population about 200,000, maybe the size of Subang Jaya but less crowded -- no traffic jams were noticed. (The whole of Ireland only has about four and a half million people.) All venues were within walking distance, especially the official pub where we met every night -- kindly sponsored by the 'Bank of Frank'. We were told that there was a Gaelic Football final between County Cork and County Kerry (which apparently always wins) and to expect a 'fever'. (Gaelic football, I am told, is a cross between football and rugby, except that the ball is round, and scoring is done over and under the crossbar -- very useful, that.) Frankly, I saw more Man U and Liverpool T-shirts (Roy Keane is from Cork) than that of the Cork team (known as the Rebels) on the streets, and I had to walk into several shops before I could buy a souvenir for my son.

The turnout for the events later in the evening -- those at 7.00pm and 9.00pm -- were better, maybe more come after work, but still it was nowhere near our Litfest crowds. But, significantly, almost all those attending were either authors themselves or writers working in other forms. It was mostly a 'literate' turnout with few fans and 'groupies'. Maybe, it was a deliberate policy by the organisers, writers and poets themselves, to organise a festival by authors for authors. Not a bad thing, that. But, for once, I couldn't help wondering about a more commercial approach. Yes, there would be that certain amount of silliness that goes with it, but more books will be sold, more book will be signed, and the better media coverage for the authors could perhaps even take the art of the short story up one notch in the eyes of the public. (God forbid that I am developing a longing for 'Tan Sri-Tan Sri, Puan Sri-Puan Sri, Dato'-Dato', Datin-Datin ...' speeches, rows of plastic flowers in pots, cold teh-tarik, sickly-sweet air bandung and stale karipap!)

Cork is like any other European city -- they use the Euro but drive on the left. One Irish writer told me that most of the bookstores are owned by independents. But not independent minded, unfortunately. Waterstone's is there. Boring. Window dressing on all I saw was The Lost Symbol, Dan Brown's latest (except for one second hand shop in Kenmare, but that was closed). Still, I braved myself to walk into a couple. They looked like any other bookshop in the UK or the US, and Kuala Lumpur, apart from that one tiny section for Irish Lit. The sameness was numbing. (I remember a time when a visit to a bookshop was exciting; one never knew what one would find.)

But the Irish are amazing, so curious about outsiders and so hospitable. Yes, the hospitality won it for us. Thank you Pat, thank you Jennifer, for such a wonderful time in Cork. I know what goes into organising these events.

Watch a slideshow.

How to promote your book

2009-09-16T14:14:00.000+08:00

Now you have written this masterpiece, and it has been published. But it is not selling the way you think it should. What do you do? A writer was in the shop just the other day asking us about how to promote his book. I told him to write another one.

Well, as most writers know, the most difficult part is not writing the book, but selling it. If you have a publisher, you could well blame them and their distributor, call them names, tell everybody what a useless bunch of wankers they are, that you have been to this great bookshop in the city and they don't even have it on their shelves, that you have 'had it' with them, and how your friend in Timbuktu, Ulu Kelantan wants a copy but can't find it in his local bookshops, etc, etc. (But while you are at it, don't tell your friends that the same publisher has another book by another writer that is selling by truckloads. It will not be good for your ego.)

If you are self-published, another set of problems emerges. After walking up and down several flights of steps, you will find out very quickly how difficult it is to even get your books on the shelves of the major stores, and how almost impossible it is to get a review, or even a mention, in the newspapers. (Having said that, I was indeed pleasantly surprised to see 4 -- yes, four -- Malaysian books reviewed last Sunday in StarMag, the Sunday Star pullout. Let us hope it is a sign of things to come.)

So why don't some bookstores stock your book? There are a few reasons, and all of them have to do with economics. The first reason is shelf space: they would rather stock a book that moves, and in large quantities too, than one that does not. They will stock a limited quantity of your books for a short while to see how it does, before they decide if the space could be made more useful, or return your book to the publisher. The second is demography: that is, the manager of the store does not think your book will do well at certain locations, whatever you might think. Thirdly, the book you are still flogging was first published twenty years ago (or thereabouts). (At this point, I am often indignantly confronted with the assertion that Harper Lee wrote only one book and it is still being sold, to which my reply would normally be in the form of a question: are you Harper Lee? That works wonders as a reality-check, try it.)

As for why newspapers and magazines don't review local books, there could be several reasons. For one, the editors could decide that readers would prefer the 29th centre-spread feature of Harry Potter's latest, than one about your book. Two, they cannot find anyone willing to, actually, read and review your book. (This may be due to many reasons: you are not glamorous enough, the pay-per-review is too little,or there are too few reviewers and they prefer to read a 'more interesting' imported book rather than yours.) Thirdly, given our small market size, local publishers generally cannot afford to buy 'adverts' in the periodicals, so any concession given is considered charity, unless it helps circulation. (Many may well argue that the potential of the latter has been grossly under-sold.)

Coming back to my advice to the writer to come out with his second book, the reasons are simple. First, it is for name recognition: when you have a new book out, bookshops and readers will also look at your past work. Secondly, you write because you have to write, and if it turns out to be successful, be surprised, genuinely surprised. (No one was more surprised about being short-listed for the Frank O'Connor Award than Shih-Li herself.)

And finally, I remember reading an interview with KS Maniam in a newspaper several years ago: talking about writing is not writing, thinking about writing is not writing, writing is writing.

So, there.

(BTW, Shih-Li will be in Cork by now. Her reading is on the 17th. I am going to miss it though, because I will be travelling on that day. The awards event will be on Sunday, 20th of Sept. I will be taking my camera along. Hope I remember to take pictures.)

How to setup an online bookstore for free (with little computer knowledge)

2009-08-29T12:01:00.000+08:00

(We launched our all-Malaysian online bookstore on the 1st of August. And we have been surprised. In the first month of operation -- and without including bulk sales to universities, libraries and bookshops -- Malaysian books made up over 70% of our retail sales! We hope this is the sign of things to come, and that we are seeing the signs of the blossoming of the Malaysian book industry.)

My only computer knowledge when I first started on the project about two months ago, was how to use word processors and spreadsheets, basic Photoshop, and some Illustrator. I have built and maintained a website for ten years with the help of NVU and Serif Photo Plus, both free downloads from the internet. In other words, I knew how to use a computer, like a lot of regular Joes, but not how to write any code. (The last time I did any of that was in the university over 40 years ago when I learnt Fortran 4 using punch cards.)

Like I said, I did have a website, but since I have always used wyswig HTML editors, my knowledge of even that was minimal. (I new how to do italics, bold, line breaks, paragraphs, tables, that sort of thing, but I didn't even know what

codes were about. But, to paraphrase what they say, I have never been one to let ignorance -- or my age -- stand in my way. (I know, I need to be institutionalised.)

One day, I looked at the number of Malaysian books I had at Silverfish and decided to open an All Malaysian, Only Malaysian bookstore -- possibly the only one of its kind in the world (since no one else were likely to be so foolhardy. So that was the first step -- think of a concept and come up with a catchy title, the catchier the title the more committed you are despite your stupidity. Secret: that's how bosses work, except they expect others to read their minds and understand their stupid concept and implement it for them.

Now, at this point, it is possible to go out and pay plenty of money to a 'professional' to build your online store for you. There are two things I don't like about this. Firstly, the money part -- they would charge you more for the software than it would cost to insert four stents in your heart at an expensive private hospital. Then they will come up with all sorts of excuses why the module is not working, and 'privately' blame your parentage if you get insistent. And thirdly, they will have no idea who you are when you report a problem at a later date.

So, if you want good service, do it yourself. Your 'bestest' friend in all this is Google, and it is free. (Now you will notice that four letter 'f' word cropping up every now and then in this story. Let it become your mantra.Free.) I searched for articles to find out how to set up a store, and learnt that I had to have a shopping cart and a Payment Gateway. Of the latter I had an idea, having used one for a while -- that is, I new how to cut and paste strings provided by them, and send it back to them for processing, modified as required. (I used a shopping facility provided by the gateway, but it is a workable solution only if I have a handful of products. (I am still not sure the proper term for it.)

Then, I started by looking at Payment Gateways. After spending a couple of days I realised that there were not many available locally. Focussing on (yes, you got it right) the word 'free', only one came close. They offered a package with a one time registration fee, no monthly maintenance, but with slightly larger percentage commission on sales, which I decided I could live with.

But more usefully, they had on their webpage a list of shopping carts they supported. Ah, it was getting warmer. Even so, what the hell was a shopping cart in cyberspace, and how did it work? I was quite familiar with those in supermarkets with the wobbly wheels, but how did the ones for e-commerce work? After a week of googling I learned a few things. Again using the 'f' word principle I managed to find out that there were such things as open source shopping carts! I zeroed in on Zencart, because I liked the name and, secondly, the repeated use of the word 'easy' all over their website, though I was not fooled for a moment. (I lie.)

It was not long before I discovered that the Zencart was written in PHP. Panic! I give up, I can't do this! I creid. No way! Then I told myself to relax and breathe. Breathe. Count one, two, three, four, five, six ... I was letting something called 'easy' to defeat me. I gritted my teeth and went on. Soon I was coming across words like Unix, Apache (servers), Perl, Cron jobs, phpMyAdmin, and SQ -- words I had vaguely heard before but had no idea what they were. But strangely, soon, I was on a roll. I began enjoying the buzz. I downloaded the main module, set up a test site, discovered a book add-on, a search sphider add-on, a back-in-notification programme, and a few sundry bits and pieces. I modified the template to look like the rest of my site, tested it and viola! I am a glutton for punishment.

But, the thing is, you do not have to do this entrely on your own. I got help from online forums, my web host and my payment gateway people. Now, here is an important piece of advice. When you speak to any of these techies, do not do it in person. They will know you are bluffing from your body language, and they can smell fear. Sometimes you will have to speak (especially over the phone) like you know what you are talking about (please learn the proper pronunciations for some of these acronyms, or you will be caught out), but sometimes you have to speak to them as if you are really very stupid. Both methods work depending on the cirumstances. The trick is to know when to use which.

You will also come across some who are really kayu. My shipping providers were like that (and they are the ones in the position to make the most money out of e-commerce). I consulted two about a suitable module for my cart. One had no idea what I was talking about. (I might as well have asked them how to fry pisang goreng.) The other one knew what I wanted but was of zero help.

The site is now up, zero cost. (Okay, there is a cost involved in populating the database but that can be done in-house at quite minimal expense.) I think the online shop looks spiffy. Of course, I will say that -- I am biased. But, honestly, it is really not all that bad?

Moral of the story. If you want some programming done, try DIY. Save some money and learn something while you are at it. Does wonders for your ego too, almost like a one night stand. The site is http://www.silverfishbooks.com/buybooks/. Give it a whirl.

Watch out for your copyright

2009-08-15T11:49:00.001+08:00

The launch of Silverfish Books' Books Malaysian, all Malaysian, only Malaysian online bookstore a fortnight ago appears to have attracted quite a bit of attention, but that is not what this article is about. What the over 750 books featured (it is a very small portion of all the Malaysian books in print -- but a start) indicates is that Malaysian publishing is not only alive and well, but thriving. Currently, three of the major bookstore chains are either holding or planning to hold Malaysian 'promotions', underscoring the importance of local books to their bottom-line. That is the upside.

But now comes the downside -- protecting authors' copyright. Now -- we at Silverfish feel this quite passionately -- no author, or creator of any intellectual property deserves to be deprived of his or her copyright. Unfortunately, please be warned, there is a lot of this going on, and writers are being deprived not just of their royalty. A lot of it has to do with ignorance (since we are not all lawyers) and quite a bit to do with corporate greed and bullying.

Some years ago the spouse of a leading Malaysian author came to see me with a draft agreement (on behalf of the author, because he himself was incapacitated at that time) to ask me about a couple of clauses. She had been told by the publisher's representative that these were 'standard', but she was not satisfied. One clause required the author to surrender his copyright to the company. And another clause said that the company had the right to change the manuscript in any way it wanted without consulting the author! Jahat-nya!

I told the lady that these were definitely not 'standard' clauses. In fact, there is no such thing as a standard agreement. After that incident, I looked at the copyright pages of several books by that publisher and realised that it was standard practice for them! So, Rule number 1: read your contract thoroughly. Don't let them bully you. What you should offer is only publishing rights, and that to only in the agreed form. Copyright should remain with you, which means you should be free to sell your work for movies, plays, comics, serialisation, video games, or any other. But the problem is most authors are so eager to get published that they would be willing to sell their soul. DON'T!

Now, the problem gets more complicated. It has come to our notice that books by several leading authors is currently being 'remaindered' by a publisher. (The practice not very long ago was to pulp unsold books so as not to 'spoil' the market.) Here are three cases:

Author number one. We received a phone call from the publisher asking if we would like to buy several hundred copies of a book by this author for RM5.00 each. We declined the offer. Later when we met the author we asked him if he knew of this, he said that he was totally in the dark and even claimed that he had never received any royalty from them. So, who got the royalty?

Author number two: We wanted to order several copies of the book because it was being used by students at a university. We were quoted the usual price by the publisher and we were about to place the order when we heard from other sources that the same book was being offered to a 'remainder' bookstore in Klang Valley, possibly to be sold at RM5.00! It would been really grand if we had sold the books to the students for RM32.90 while it was being remaindered elsewhere for RM5.00. We intend to tell the student where they can buy the book cheap. At least let them benefit. Again, the author was not told.

Author number three. He discovered that his plays were being remaindered only after a friend told him about seeing a whole stack of his work at a 'remainder' store. He called up the company to ask about it, and was told that he could buy up the remaining stock at SGD0.50 each. He agreed to take all six hundred but received only 100.

In all three cases, several issues stand out. One, authors do not receive any royalty on the remaindered books. (I have heard it said by many that that they didn't mind buying books from remaindered stores because it was cheaper. Yes, anonymity is a wonderful balm for the conscience. Okay, but what if you see a book by a dear friend of yours at a 'remainder' bookshop? Would you buy yourself a copy knowing she is being completely stitched by the publisher? Deprived of her main income as a writer?)

Secondly, what happens to the publishing rights? (Or, in the case of those who have inadvertently signed unfair agreements, their copyright?) Can the author republish his own book? No? So is the book completely dead?

Thirdly, why is this remaindering being done without notifying the authors, without giving them the first right of refusal? If their books are to be remaindered should they not benefit from it? Or, do they simply deserve to be swept up and trashed with the rest of the garbage?

Of course, there are cases when someone other than the author owns the copyright.

1. If an employee creates a work in the course of his or her employment, the employer owns the copyright.

2. If you are employed as an independent consultant (or contractor) to create a work and the former meets all expenses, the employer owns the copyright.

3. You have sold your entire copyright to another person or business, that buyer becomes the copyright owner.

All of the above also applies to those who publish in periodicals. Do not sign anything that surrenders your copyright to that periodical. You only give them 'one-time' publishing rights. Clarify the copyright issue from the start. Don't be seduced by niceties (aiyah, don't you trust me? bullshit) or succumb to bullying. There is no such thing as an industry standard or a moral right. If you sign your copyright over, you are dead. End of story.

(I wrote this article after talking to a couple of lawyers. Maybe some of my arguments are flawed because I am not a lawyer myself. Please post your comments or pass this story around. But niggly bits aside, what is important is that Malaysian writers must be protected from predators. Perhaps the Director of Majlis Buku Kebangsaan Malaysia -- the Malaysian Book Association-- has a view.)

Books Malaysian, all Malaysian, only Malaysian

2009-07-31T14:28:00.000+08:00

After being under construction for almost two months, our online bookshop has now reopened, bigger and better. For starters we are featuring over 750 titles -- all books written and published by Malaysians or written about Malaysia (or Malaya and Borneo, in the case of older titles) -- currently on our shelves, but we expect the numbers to rapidly rise by year end. In other words, it is meant to be a one-stop site meant for anyone -- researchers, scholars or interested readers -- looking for material about this country. (The main reason for the delay was that I had to learn and understand the fundamentals of PHP coding and migrate the entire site to an Apache (Unix) server which I thought would be easy, but was not. Then I discovered that Unix server names were case sensitive. Arggggh! I mention all that just to impress you.)

It is not infrequently that we receive requests from Embassies and Universities for our list of Malaysian books. In the past we have kept them satisfied with spreadsheets. But this is becoming increasingly difficult to generate, seeing how the number of Malaysian titles in print has grown exponentially these last few years.

Most would have heard the story of Ron Klein's first visit to Silverfish Books (I think this was in the year 2000) at our old premises in Desa Seri Hartamas, asking to see our Malaysian 'collection'. That was one embarrassing moment: here we were calling ourselves a Malaysian bookshop with a two foot shelf of local books, with a little over two dozen titles (most of them from Skoobs and Rhino Press, and the rest from Pa' Chong). That was one of the reasons we decided to go into publishing.

But that was then. Currently, we have almost an entire wall lined with Malaysian books, which make up almost 50% of our sales. (Maybe, the entire shop in future!) We have now put it all online for easy browsing, and buying. (For the purposes of this site, we are interpreting Malaysian books as those written by Malaysian authors, books published -- and/or printed -- within the country, those by others writing about their experiences here and books on history.)

In the (online) bookstore, you can browse books by the author, subject or publisher. I have also a sphider installed (similar to what Google uses) for quick indexing and searches. Although the default currency we use is MYR, browsers can check prices in USD, GBP, AUD or the Euro. We accept Credit cards (Visa and Mastercard), Alliance online transfer, CIMB Clicks, FXP, Hong Leong transfer, Maybank2u, Meps cash, Mobile money, Paypal (only in USD), RHB online and Webcash.

You can also put yourself on our 'Back in stock notification' system if you come across a book that is out of stock but you'd like a copy. We hope you understand that many of our books are the last surviving anywhere in the world, so we might not be able to put every book back in stock. But we shall notify you of these.

Well, do give the site a whirl. Although we have checked the site quite extensively (but that is always relative), I are sure some of you might encounter glitches. Please send us your feedback and we will try and rectify those. Of course, there are certain features we cannot modify without a major reprogramming.

Creative Writing Software Programmes

2009-07-16T13:53:00.000+08:00

Many would have heard of these and wondered about the big deal, being quite satisfied with their trusty word processor. After all, word processors nowadays can do almost anything, except make coffee. But therein lies the problem; all the bells and whistles can get so distracting. If you are writing a relatively short piece that you have already thought through, it works just as well on a word processor. But if you have a more complicated piece with many timelines, characters, subplots and scenes, Microsoft Word can make it a right royal mess although all the tools you need are actually available in the programme. Hence, the Creative Writing Programmes where you can stash away all your research material (be they notes, websites, photographs, videos, or whatever) just a click away. You can switch from one scene to another at the other end of a novel for consistency and compare facts, all in one click. Or even view them side-by-side (or top and bottom), or write in full screen mode for minimum distraction. And then, after everything is done, one can format the whole thing in a fancy word processor.

MacWorld reports that Ulysses 2 writing program has just been released. I have never used Ulysses -- I have only taken Scrivener, Z-Write and Writers' Cafe for a spin -- so I can't say much about how good it is, but it appears to be worth a try-out at least. It comes with a full 60-day trial. (The full licence costs around RM200.00 -- a bit pricey compared to some of the others.) The report says that it sports a brand new interface, as well as new project templates, project-wide search and replace, enhancements and improvements to the browser and editor to include the ability to add bookmarks, wider export format support, and more. According to the Ulysses 2 website: "Whether you're a blogger, a poet or a published novelist: Ulysses 2.0 is the definite package for all your creative writing needs. Brainstorm, draft, revise, submit; distraction-free and fully focused. No strings or styles attached." But, it is a Mac-only programme

Literature and Latte's Scrivener is my favourite. Says the website: " Writing a book, short story or research paper is about more than hammering away at the keys until it's done. Research, scrawling fragmentary ideas that don't seem to fit anywhere yet, collecting faded photos from old newspapers, shuffling index cards to find that elusive structure -- most writing software is only fired up after much of the hard work is already done. Enter Scrivener: writing software that stays with you from that first, unformed idea all the way through to the first - or even final - draft. Outline and structure your ideas. Take notes. Storyboard your masterpiece using a powerful virtual corkboard. View research while you write. Track themes using keywords. Dynamically combine multiple scenes into a single text just to see how they fit. Scrivener has already been enthusiastically adopted by best-selling novelists, academics, lawyers, scriptwriters and journalists - whatever you write, grow your ideas in style." It cost RM140.00 and does everything it says, and comes with a 30-day free trial. Again, a Mac-only programme.

Before readers start wondering if Windows and the word 'creative' can exist in the same sentence, let me introduce Writers' Cafe.

"Writer's Cafe is a set of power tools for all fiction writers, whether experienced or just starting out. The heart of Writer's Cafe is StoryLines, a powerful but simple to use story development tool that dramatically accelerates the creation and structuring of your novel or screenplay.

"Designed by published novelist Harriet Smart, Writer's Café also includes a notebook, journal, research organiser, pinboard, inspirational quotations, daily writing tips, writing exercises, name generation, and a 60-page e-book, Fiction: The Facts, distilling 20 years of writing experience."

I have given Writer's Cafe a spin as well. While I can see where they are coming from, it does not address the way I think or write. I find it a bit too structured for my comfort, but I am sure others will find far more potential in it than I did. It is available as a demo download with no time limit on it, but with a few key features defeated. The licence costs approximately RM160.00 and is available for Windows, Macs and Linux.

Z-Write costs about RM120.00 and is another Mac-only programme. The website says: " Z-Write is a unique word processor designed for creative writers. In the process of writing a story, writers tend to create dozens or even hundreds of pages of notes, character bios, rewrites, reminders, and bits of research info. Organizing all that material within the linear structure of a traditional word processor is awkward at best." All that is true, but when compared with the rest, it is pretty basic. Try it for yourself. It comes with a two-week trial, after which it reverts to a 'demo' mode.

Bottom-line: if you are serious about writing, perhaps you'd like to give these creative writing programmes a spin. It is quite an enjoyable experience.

Frank O'Connor short story award

2009-07-01T10:31:00.000+08:00

I had just left the office when Patrick Cotter, Director of The Munster Literature Centre, called on Monday. Phek Chin took the call and politely told the gentleman that I could not be contacted because I had already gone home. Gone home? It is only eleven o'clock here, he said. Whereupon, Phek Chin inquired where he was calling from. Ireland! And ... He was just calling to tell Mr Raman Krishnan that his writer, Shih-Li Kow, has been short-listed for the Frank O'Connor award!

The silence that followed must have been deafening. Phek Chin was petrified. She was speechless. She was afraid to say anything lest she sounded like a blithering idiot.(Oi!!! she protests to me, loudly.) But he assured her that it was a perfectly normal reaction and that he had been confronted by it several times before. He made her promise to tell me about it, as soon as possible, and gave her his email.

She says she was still frozen in shock for a while after she put down the phone, not knowing what do or think. Finally, after recovering some of her senses, she called my house (I was not there yet as I had some errands to run), then my wife's mobile and my house again, and managed to leave a message for me. Then, when I called her it was my turn to be gob-smacked.

Apparently, Shih-Li came in a while later that evening and Phek Chin made her sit down before telling her. Are you sure? It can't be, lah. Maybe it is a hoax, Aiyoh, I am going to pengsan ... and so on and so forth. Anyway, Phek Chin and I walked around the whole day, the next day, grinning from ear to ear, as if we had been smoking something. I cannot begin to imagine what Shih-Li must feel, but we are so incredibly happy for her.

I first met Shih-Li almost three years ago at the third Silverfish Writing Programme. News from Home was published about one year after she finished the Programme, and Ripples, another year later. She is unpretentious, she is level-headed, and she is prolific -- such a wonderful writer to work with. As I worked on Ripples, I felt that her work was very good -- a sort of prize-winning good, if you know what I mean -- and I was determined to nominate her for an award, any award. But still, when I received the news that she was short-listed for the Frank O'Connor (I mean the Frank O'Conner), it left me in a state of shock, in a daze -- though in a nice way.

Well, now she has to be in Cork, Ireland on the 20th of September for the awards presentation at the end of the Frank O'Connor Short Story Festival, which starts on the 16th of that month. Win or lose, it does not matter any more. She has already won. Malaysian writing has already won. Malaysian readers have won.

Let us bask in the warmth for a while more, then we shall resume prowling the streets for more hidden gems that we can polish. Congratulations again, Shih-Li Kow. You have blazed the trail.

With a little help from my friends

2009-06-16T12:25:00.000+08:00

I wish I could sing, "It was twenty years ago today ..." but we can't. So it has to be, "It was ten years ago today ..." But I can say definitely I got by with (more than) a little help from my friends.

Yes, that's right. Silverfish Books first opened its doors in Desa Seri Hartamas in June 1999 in the midst of a recession. Now, ten years later, we are in the middle of another one. I never thought of setting up a bookshop when I first quit engineering. At least, not until my wife suggested I set up a store to sell all my books 'cluttering' the house. Then Faris and Joan helped me with the planning and insisted that I called the shop Silverfish Books. Thor, of Skoob Books, gave me some advice, but told me not to expect to grow rich, the soundest advice I have received.

When I first realised it early this year, I thought, "Well, the tenth anniversary is just another date." I mean, ten years will pass by even if you do nothing. Like Saidah was saying just the other day, "You sit around and yada yada in a mamak shop (or anywhere) every night, and before you know it ten years has passed, and you have done nothing." It is quite scary, that thought. So, yes, ten years is a time to take stock, have a party, renew friendships and, perhaps, talk of the next ten years, if nothing else.

I would venture cautiously that, in the case of Silverfish Books, it has not been a total waste of time. That's how I feel mostly, but sometimes it does all seem a little futile; at least until a friend drops by to visit, chat over tea and buy books. And, that's what has kept us going. Friends.

When we first set up shop, we were a little less focussed, perhaps. "Why are you selling books like that?" Huzir scolded me quite early on, looking at a row of John Grishams. (For the record, we couldn't sell even one copy, our customers just wouldn't have it.) Several others would come in and say, "You must have this title", or "You must have that author". In a way, one could say that the character of the bookshop, as it is now, was determined to quite a large extent by the customers.

It was the same with publishing. Guat was the one who gave me the nudge (though she has probably forgotten). Then, after I spoke about the idea, several of my regulars simply took it over. Thus was conceived, Silverfish New Writing 1. Amir came in and said that he'd edit the book and wanted no payment for it, Amri and Irman did the cover illustration and design, and they -- together with Bernice, Danny, Dhogee, Lorna and Pang -- proofed it, working through the night on occasions, all for no reward. Every one was so eager, like it was every individual's own personal project. After the book was published, the media simply took it over (it was their project too), not just in Malaysia but also in Singapore. The buzz was amazing. If ever there was a moment of pure spontaneity, with absolutely no self-interest, that was it. That is one event worth reminiscing about. Ah, but that was the age of innocence.

(Most of the subsequent editors of the Silverfish anthologies also worked for free; only a couple were paid an honararium.)

But before Guat nudged me, it was Ron Klein, of the Department of English Studies at Hiroshima Jogakuin University, who planted the initial seed. I remember how he came in one day when we were in Desa Seri Hartamas and asked to see our Malaysian section. It was quite an embarrassing moment for me, as I recall. Here we were in a bookshop in Kuala Lumpur, in the capital city of Malaysia, with one two-foot shelf of books by Malaysian writers. The fact that the other bookstores in the city were no different was hardly a consolation. Ron was excited nevertheless, because he found several titles he hadn't seen before. He still drops by to look for books by Malaysian writers, now and then. (He has apologised for not being able to make it for the 'Tenth'). I have to thank him for planting the initial idea: if I cannot buy Malaysian books, I guess I will have to publish them myself.

So, apart from publishing more than thirty books and a dozen authors, and after two international literary festivals and numerous other literary events, what have we done? Not much I guess. Still, it has been a fun ride (a few upsetting potholes, notwithstanding). What am I planning for the next ten? I, honestly, don't know. I cannot think that far ahead. (Some don't believe me when I say that.) Who knows what my friends will nudge me into?

But, I sure hope to be able to sing: It was twenty years ago today ...

(Silverfish Books will be holding its 10th anniversary party on Saturday, 27th June 2009 from 5.00 to 7.00pm at 58-1, Jalan Telawi, Bangsar Baru. KL. Farish Noor, Dina Zaman, Rumaizah Abu Bakar, Shih-Li Kow, Chua Kok Yee, Robert Raymer, Salleh ben Joned, are Silverfish authors who have confirmed attendence. Huzir Sulaiman, Antares and Ganese Jaganathan are definite maybes. A surprise for the evening will be Addeline Lee from Ipoh who, at 18, is the youngest Silverfish author to date. Her book Lethal Lesson and other stories will be released on the day. All welcome.)

An idiot's guide to Silverfish bashing

2009-06-01T14:41:00.000+08:00

Silverfish bashing has become an annual sport. I thought this year's season was over. But looks like I was wrong, judging from a book review in the Sunday pullout of a major daily. (The fact that a major English newspaper actually allowed someone to use its pages for a blatant personal attack raises many other questions. Did they not read it? I have written to them but have not received a reply.)

The questions I have had to field over the last week have been the obvious ones. Who is Amy de Kanter? Do you know her? Why is she attacking you like that? Outraged as my friends are, I am actually quite amused. She probably popped a couple of blood vessels writing that. First, I was taken aback. Then I got a little annoyed. Then, when I came to the faulty microphone part, I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. It was so lame. Dear Amy, you are one unhappy bunny.

As for the first question, my answer is, "I don't know who she is," which also answers the second. As for why she is attacking Silverfish Books and me, I can only speculate. She says that our editing is so bad and compares it to a singer using a bad microphone, or a dancer on a wobbly stage! How poetic. Ironically, on the next page of the same magazine section was a story of another Silverfish title vying for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, the richest of its kind in the world!

Actually, the book she 'reviewed' was released eight months ago and has been read by thousands of people, and is very popular. Silverfish Books has published over 30 titles so far, sold over 100,000 books some of which are used as college text in over 20 local and overseas universities (including the University of California in Berkeley). And, now, Amy de Kanter compares the standard of our editing to a faulty microphone, or a wobbly stage. Oh, she wounds me, I fail, I fall, I die! (Sorry, Tash Aw.)

So what does she have against me? First of all, I am not even sure this is a real person. Or one person. It could be a pseudonym. She has neither an email contact, nor a bio in her story. Maybe, she does not want her boss in her own newspaper to know that she is moonlighting with another. It happens. Or, she is one of those who prefer to hide their hands after throwing stones. She could be reacting to a perceived or imaginary slight, or she could be carrying a torch for someone else, or sucking up to them, or she simply wants to teach this 'uppity native' a lesson.

There are several reasons for hating Silverfish Books. Firstly, we are publishers and we reject manuscripts. We have, on several occasions, had friends coming in asking why so-and-so is saying (or writing) this about you. All I have to do is, go into my room and pick out a manuscript and ask, "Is this the person?" I have been right many times. There are also those who post comments anonymously, but one can, sort of, guess what their problem is from the tone of the comment. I have even had nasty emails from people who have not had their one short story selected for an anthology. But these are the tiny minority, the loony fringe. (Thank God for the delete key!) Most people send me a 'thank you' note.

Then there are those who want to self-publish, and are quite willing to pay (until they know how much). (Is this a norm in Malaysia?) They ask to use the Silverfish imprint. I say we can't do that unless it satisfies our criteria, in which case we will not charge them. But, we could help them self-publish under their own names, I say. They insist on the Silverfish imprint. I resist. They are surprised that I prefer not to take their money. They get angry and leave in a huff, sometimes with expletives trailing. Difficult.

Virulent strains of the 'basher' virus include envy and inferiority complex. Some people just can't come to terms with this 'uppity native' being able to do things they dare not even dream about. On one hand they hate this native. Yet, on the other, they want to be part of the trip. It is a real dilemma. So in between, they bash.

Let me tell you a fairy tale. Once upon a time, in a land far away, a man was working on a rather large project, he was organising a festival so grand the likes of which had never been done in the land, for he wanted the people to rejoice. He had a small dedicated team. This lady would to hang around and watch them with a hangdog expression obviously wanting to be a part of it. He was reluctant to rope her in because he knew she was panic prone. But he relented eventually. He felt sorry for her, found the simplest task and asked her if she could 'help' them. He though she couldn't possibly mess it up. He also offered to pay her a 1000 smackaroos a month, a sum he could ill afford, and which he should have given to another member of the team who was doing amazing work. Anyway, two months later when he asked her about it, she had done nothing! It was a simple job, but she couldn't handle it. She had panicked. She had icicles on her feet. The event was only three weeks away, and they needed to go to the printer immediately. They were desperate.

The man lost his head and hollered at her, took the job back, and worked on it himself through the night with a hundred other things to do. She was upset. He pacified her and gave her even simpler jobs to do he while still paid her. He soon forgave her for the incident, for he was not one to hold a grudge for long. After a successful festival, that saw poets and writers from the world over converge to the land, that saw people rejoicing with much merriment, he returned to his castle. That's when he noticed that many of his wells had been poisoned. He was confused. He couldn't understand who would do that. Why, he asked? This went on and on for years, this poisoning. He still couldn't understand it. In the meantime, she went around telling everyone how ungrateful he was for not thanking her for her help. For what, he retorted, when people told him, and dismissed it.

Then she changed. But he was too buried in his work to notice. She transformed into a Cik Zahirah of Shih-Li Kow's story. She lost her face. Or rather, acquired the ability to choose any face she wanted at will. She mastered the art of huggy-wuggying and kissy-wissying the man in public, and then badmouthing him the moment his back was turned, in the same breath too. She was good. Nay, she was brilliant. She could praise a book (or people) in one breath, and rubbish it (or them) in the next. Once, she sat in his castle and rubbished a book (and its editor) by another publisher. He wondered what that was all about. Then he found out. Not much later, she picked up something else totally unrelated that he had written, completely distorted and misinterpreted it, and led a hysterical knotted-knicker frenzy (don't try to imagine that) making him the villian, creating a crisis with the other publisher. Soon, everyone joined in the bashing. The evil mist spread ...

The land became divided. Sometimes, he would laugh at her clumsy antics. Mostly, he was sad. The people were split into two: winners or whiners. Those who could, did; those who couldn't, whined. And that continues to this day.

Tools for Writing

2009-05-15T17:42:00.000+08:00

Many people, when they talk about wanting to learn creative writing, basically want the magic pill. They don't believe it when you say that there is no such thing. They will think you are trying to keep it for yourself. If there was e a magic pill for writing, some of us will get quite seriously rich.

Roy Peter Clark's blog, PoynterOnline, offers toolbox, maybe the next best thing to a magic pill, with plenty of discussions on provides tools for your writing reporting, writing & editing. He also has a book, Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer. Not quite 5 easy solutions to writing but 50. In case, you hate reading, there are podcasts too.

Fifty Writing Tools is divided into four part: Nuts and Bolts, Special Effects, Blueprints and Useful Habits. The first advice is: Begin sentences with subjects and verbs -- Make meaning early, then let weaker elements branch to the right. Interestingly, isn't that what we were taught in primary school, but soon forgot in our 'hurry' to become clever?

"It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen." George Orwell -- 1984. What an incredible opening sentence! With no phoenixes or dragons, no dark and stormy nights, it was straight to the point, shocking to the core, yet simple. But contrary to the advice above, he did not simply let the weaker elements drift to the right. He positioned his sledgehammer there. (Of course, no one knows how many times he rewrote that. Our own Salleh ben Joned, laboured for three months over just one word! But that is another story.)

Many of these would be classified under commonsense, but one would equally disagree with others. Here are ten -- naturally, many of there rules are to be broken, but not for beginners (but if you think you are a genius without ever having written a book, then good luck to you):

. Activate you verbs -- Strong verbs create action, save words, and reveal the players.
. Be passive-aggressive -- Use passive verbs to showcase the "victim" of action.
. Order words for emphasis -- Place strong words at the beginning and at the end, and so on.
. Set the pace with sentence length -- Vary sentences to influence the reader's speed.
. Tune your voice -- Read drafts aloud.
. Learn the difference between reports and stories -- Use one to render information, the other to render experience.
. Use dialogue as a form of action -- Dialogue advances narrative; quotes delay it.
. Write from different cinematic angles -- Turn your notebook into a "camera."
. Prefer archetypes to stereotypes -- Use subtle symbols, not crashing cymbals.
. Recruit your own support group -- Create a corps of helpers for feedback.

Unfortunately, I feel he has left out the most important advice of all: Read, read, read and read some more. (Or does that come under the writing workbench rule?).

Poynter

What it feels like to be a boy

2009-04-29T17:29:00.000+08:00

Alison Flood writes in The Guardian of how the judges for the Carnegie medal, Britain's oldest children's book award, have drawn up a shortlist consitingo of entirely 'boysy' stories. She says: "Magic and monsters are conspicuous by their absence this year from the shortlist for Britain's oldest children's book prize, the Carnegie medal, which is dominated by titles featuring ordinary children dealing with the pitfalls and adventures of everyday life." (The Carnegie is in its 72nd year and is seen as the most 'the kids' Booker.)

Getting boys to read for pleasure has, of course, been the subject of much literary angst. Girls have always appeared to gravitate more naturally than boys towards books or anything literary. I am currently one of the judges for the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award for Young Malaysians for 2009. I was sent the final shortlist of twenty essays/short stories to grade, out of which, interestingly, 16 were by girls. But as a bookseller I, notice that I have as many customers who are women as men, although their buying habits are different.

Keith Gray, one of the authors on the list says: "People have said it's quite boysy -- I say hurrah for that. There seem to be quite a lot of books out there for girls, about what it feels like to be a girl in modern times, whether it's Jacqueline Wilson or pinker, fluffier books. Whereas a lot of books aimed at boys are about being a spy, fighting monsters, being a vampire. It's great to have some which are about what it feels like to just be a boy ... So many books for boys are about being X Box-style heroes -- it's so nice to have more down to earth heroes."

But is the problem all about books not appealing to boys? I know why I started reading -- the pictures. Then when I was in primary school, I had the most wonderful history teacher a boy could have. Mr Selvaratnam was his name, and the twelve-inch ruler was his game. And with his ruler he could transform from a sword-wielding pirate to a Portuguese commandant with a blunderbuss or a Japanese soldier with a bayonet. He would prance about in front of the class swishing and shooting and stabbing with his ruler, setting free our imagination. So I was more than a bit surprise when, during my Form 4 years, some of my classmates decided to 'drop' History and Literature. How could anyone not like history and literature, I thought?

Going back to the Carnagie, Gray describes himself as a reluctant reader as a child. He says the first book he was persuaded to pick up was the Carnegie-winning The Machine Gunners by Robert Westall. "I can remember seeing the Carnegie medal stamped on the front cover. Just having my name on the shortlist is great," he says. "The Machine Gunners got me reading, and that's what got me writing, so you could say the Carnegie turned me into a reader and a writer."

My son grew up in the eighties, amply distracted by the television and video games. (Internet was not available then). Interestingly, what started him reading were the movies. I remember queuing for the tickets for Jurassic Park because he was into the dinosaur phase too at the time. I had never read Michael Crichton before, but I decided to get a copy of the book just for the heck of it. He saw it lying around the house and asked if he could read it. He never looked back after that. So boys do read for different reasons, but I suspect having books around the house does not hurt.

One frequently asked question we get at Silverfish Books is from parents who want to know how they can get their children, especially boys, to read? We generally manage to huff and puff round that question. But what we really really want to say is: "So what books do you read?"

Turning boys into bookworms

2009-04-16T13:11:00.000+08:00

A story in The Independent by Warwick Mansell, Power of words: How a children's writer is turning boys into bookworms, tells how writer GP Taylor is making pupils read by telling them stories, with some remarkable results.

Which comes as a bit of surprise. It should be expected, one would have thought. Common sense. But when bureaucratic educationists get into the act, I should think they'd be able to committee anything to death, including common sense. I started reading because it was fun, because I could go places I never could in real life. My memory of childhood is all about story-telling by my parents, my uncles, aunts and older cousins.

Graham Taylor is an ex-vicar, ex-policeman, and exorcist turned multi-million selling author of fantasy novels who has visited more than 150 primary schools this year to tell children stories, for which he does not charge. His object is to get students, especially boys, reading for pleasure.

The British Government's national literacy strategy has been accused of focusing on teaching reading mainly through extracts of books, and drilling pupils to pass tests. " ... the literacy strategy, introduced in 1998, which emphasized the teaching of reading and writing as the acquisition of discrete skills -- such as word decoding, analysing sentence structure, spelling and grammar -- without actually getting pupils wanting to read in the first place."

Professor Teresa Cremin, president of the United Kingdom Literacy Association, says: "Children were shown a text and asked to find the adverbial clause, or asked what complex sentences they could find in a paragraph. This approach can get a bit farcical."

You bet. Who cares what part of speech a word is, or how a sentence is structured. What's important are the stories they tell and the joy a child gets when he reads them. Reading is entertainment, but if there is one thing the school system does well it to take all the joy out of it, and make it a chore.

Jonathan Douglas, director of the National Literacy Trust, says: "There was an overemphasis on skills and an underemphasis on the reason why you would read. Reading for pleasure suffered."

Professor Cremin agrees: "The pressure to achieve the level fours and level fives in tests is so great that teachers have felt that there is not the time to engage in reading for pleasure".

Which is kind of funny because children who read for pleasure will surely do better in tests, as results show at St Peter's Church of England primary school in Ashton-under-Lyne, outside Manchester. Last year 83 per cent of pupils gained their expected level, well ahead of the school's 43 per cent target.

The Independent

A new publishing model?

2009-03-31T15:36:00.000+08:00

Shelf-Awareness.com touts it as a publishing model for the 21st Century. "The [publishing] industry seems to want a return on investment, quickly and guaranteed," Stephen Roxburgh says. "The difficulty is that the people at the end of that chain, paradoxically enough, are artists and authors who need time to develop a project."

Roxburgh is the pioneer of namelos (nameless), a "consortium of independent publishing professionals." Kara LaReau has launched Bluebird Works, which offers creative services that include editing and manuscript evaluation. Both companies strive to help creators of children's books develop projects at their own pace and until they're ready to be submitted to an agent or editor. Agents or editors (instead of authors) may hire these companies for their projects.

So what's new about this publishing mode? This used to be the traditional role of publishing houses before big business took over. Silverfish books has been doing this for over two years now. The Silverfish New Writing series was going nowhere. It was started as a platform for discovering new Malaysian writing talent, but after seven years and no sign of any sustained talent emerging (except for Mathew Thomas) we decided to stop.

We have argued before that in Malaysia we cannot expect authors to come out with their own manuscripts without some assistance -- both editorial and creative -- particularly considering that English is often the second or third language. So we started the Silverfish Writing Programme. The focus is on story telling, and writing what publishers look for. We have currently published four writers and working with one more. It is a slow process and the current crop still have some way to go, but four writers in two years is still way better than one in seven. We continue to dream of a time in the future (not so far away we hope) when a couple of dozen Malaysian writers start producing good quality books on a regular basis, creating a supply and a demand, and perhaps even attracting a glance from publishers overseas. (We have been approached for local manuscripts by more than one international literary agent.)

We hosted a literary event last week with readings from Dua Lauk and Perempuan Simpanan. About 50 people turned up for the reading despite the rain. They appeared a little intimidated in the beginning (our reputation has probably travelled far), but they soon settled down. They were well organised, they had an enthusiastic leader who preferred to remain in the background, they were all very supportive of one another, and there was not one pretentious arty-farty literatti 'air head' in sight. Of course, they still have a long way to go, literary wise. But, I do wish them well and I sincerely hope they succeed for we do need a strong Malay literary scene. Syabas to this wonderful group. And, thank you Irman for introducing them to us and bringing them to Silverfish Books. They are welcome anytime at all. Drinks and bites on us. (A slide show has been posted for those who could not make it.)

The Shelf-Awareness article continues, saying: 'Their companies' model shifts the financial responsibility to the authors up front rather than the traditional model under which, after paying an advance, the publisher works with them to develop the project. "That will happen with increasingly fewer people," said Roxburgh. "The industry's capacity to serve and cultivate and develop the talent is much diminished in the face of the contraction and consolidation it confronts now. The model [namelos is] proposing is to acknowledge the hard truth, but I think it also happens to reflect the evolution of the industry."'

In the case of Silverfish Books, we currently do not charge authors anything to work with them, although many are willing to pay. (But, we do have a nominal charge for the Silverfish Writing Programme.) All we ask is they be willing to work hard. We look at their sample work, talk to them and then decide if there is a book.

Karen LaReau, hopes to have two books out in 2011. (It is a slow process.) She is not sure where the industry is going, but she says: "People are always going to want good stories ... all I can do, is to continue to provide that."

Shelf-Awareness

Innovate, innovate, innovate

2009-03-16T17:22:00.000+08:00

The news from the book industry appears to get worse with every passing week. Let's leave that aside for a moment, if we can, and see how some are coping and read some of the good news for a change, without talking about shopping malls across the US that have become community centres and libraries. Three trends appear to be emerging. They are: innovate, innovate and innovate.

A Publisher's Weekly story recently was about David L. Ulin, book editor of the Los Angeles Times who joined the Los Angeles Times in October 2005. Unfortunately, the stand-alone book review section, The Sunday Book Review, died six months ago due to the shrinking newspaper business and falling ad revenues. But Ulin took the challenge upon himself and created the Times' online book presence.

"When I came on board, all we did was to load whatever was in the paper about books to the Web site. No one was tending it," Ulin says. "When the stand-alone was threatened, our online presence became a priority." He then decided to feature Web-only material, beginning with a blog. "We had no idea what we were doing, but tried to figure it out as we went along." A year ago, Ulin brought in Carolyn Kellogg as the dedicated blogger; she has helped him understand what he refers to as "the emerging style of blogging about books," a more immediate, conversational approach.

In addition to the Jacket Copy blog, David Ulin also has five online columnists writing about paperbacks, mysteries, sci-fi, children's and mythology. In March, Ulin will debut an online-only weekly essay by writers on writing. Contributors will include both new and established authors covering a wide range of voices and aesthetics. "While the book industry seems to be focused on contracting, we're expanding online. We think of book coverage in the paper in a complex mix of ways," says Ulin.

"I'm committed to both print and Web. There are two readerships, and I'm not sure they're the same. My main interest is, how do we get the most book coverage to the most people?" Ideally, Ulin would welcome a return to the stand-alone book review. "But we don't have one now, and we're not going to have one," he says. "One of the things that worries me about the book culture is the notion that all change is bad."

In another posting, Hugh Mcquire of The Huffington Post asks: "How can publishing maintain its financial viability when fewer people are reading books? Especially when everyone wants everything for free?" He says, "I recently attended O'Reilly's Tools for Change in Publishing conference, a yearly gathering of publishers, technology providers, developers, thinkers, visionaries. The TOC conference is built around technology, with an objective to help 'decipher the tools of change in this industry and help cut through the hype for a more profitable future in publishing.' In 2009 the focus was decidedly philosophical, not technological: what is the future of the book, and how might publishers build successful business models around the coming changes?"

And then he notes: "Still, one thing that worried and puzzled me was how rarely the reader was mentioned at TOC. There was talk of the future of the book, the network, Google, and self-publishing models. And of course DRM. But the reader was largely absent."

"One of the problems for publishers is that they have never had much to do with their readers. Their clients, traditionally, have been book stores, who in turn managed the relationships with readers."

"The question every publisher should be asking themselves every day is: how can we provide more value to our readers? I suspect the ones that start each day with that question will find the right answers. At least, I think they'll be asking the right questions."

Another story in Publisher's Weekly is about Thomas Nelson who has announced the launch of NelsonFree, a program that allows readers to receive content in multiple formats -- physical book, audiobook and e-book -- without making multiple purchases. With NelsonFree, the price of the hardcover book includes both the audio download and the e-book. The first two NelsonFree titles, including Michael Franzese’s I’ll Make You An Offer You Can’t Refuse, will go on sale later this month. Another 10 Nelson titles will be available in the format before the end of the year.

Joel Miller, vp and publisher, said Nelson currently has plans to release a dozen format-free books in this and related categories, and will monitor consumer response to determine whether or not it adds more titles. He also said Nelson will not raise the price of hardcovers in the NelsonFree program.

Nelson president and CEO Michael S. Hyatt said, "I believe that the industry is shifting and we, as publishers, need to explore new methods of getting our content into the hands of customers," said. "NelsonFree will give readers a new level of value and flexibility. It will enhance their literary experience and allow greater employment of the content without breaking the bank."

And then finally, Amazon unveils a Kindle app for Apple’s iPhone and iPod touch that displays books in color. So, one does not have to spend US$359 on a Kindle electronic book reader from Amazon.com if one owns an iPhone or iPod touch (as a new application will let you access the same content on your Apple device).

"The program, which can be downloaded from Apple's online application store, lets iPhone and iPod touch users read the same electronic books, magazines and newspapers that Kindle owners can buy on Amazon.com. As with the Kindle, the iPhone app lets users change the text size on the screen, and add bookmarks, notes and highlights ... The application does not connect to the Kindle store, however, so users must access the Web browser on their iPhone, iPod or computer to buy the content."

So, has Amazon.com finally seen the light? (With an iPhone installed base of well over 10 million the light couldn't get more glaring.)

The central premise of all business is: stick to what you know, and what you are good at. Leave the manufacturing of pencils to those who do that well.

How will newspapers survive the digital revolution?

2009-02-28T16:20:00.000+08:00

(A version of this story appeared in the Malay mail on the 26th February 2009.)

Some years ago I was invited to talk about publishing at a Rotary Club event at a downtown hotel. During the Q&A it was inevitable that the question of e-books should arise. My comments at that time were that it was still several years off.

First there was this question of technology, I said. Current screen resolutions were not good enough for reading many hours at a stretch, and internet access had to be much faster. Secondly there was the question of copyright -- authors and publishers would want to know how they'd get paid and how their rights would be protected before they allowed their books to be digitised. No one wanted a repeat of the music industry fiasco.

Now with the Kindle and its electronic paper making screen reading easier, and more companies offering broadband speed of 10mps at very affordable prices (except in Malaysia where one wonders if there is some sort of hidden policy to keep broadband speeds and internet penetration low, despite all the lip service), that day appears to be here.

But the Kindle costs USD 359.00 (appr RM 1300.00) with book downloads costing another USD 10.00 (appr RM 37.00) a pop. So is the Kindle likely to take off and replace the book? Probably not. It is a product looking for a market. Amazon thinks it has found one. But I don't think so. The Economist quotes Steve Kessel, a member of Amazon's Kindle team, "It's the convenience -- they think of a book and can be reading it within 60 seconds."

I can only say that Mr Kessel is not a serious reader. Only those hooked on bestsellers know exactly what they want to read next. Serious book buyers have little idea what they want to read until they see it while browsing the shelves. Most book buying is done on impulse. And seriously, I cannot imagine people who live from one bestseller to the next actually forking out RM1300.00 for an e-book reader. (I came across a 1932 Matsushita mission statement many years ago. It included this line: to make all products as inexhaustible and as cheap as tap water. When that happens to Kindle, it will be another story.)

When the iPod first came out, it filled a need that many had. Like me, there were many people out there with large CD collections. But they could play them only one at a time sequentially, and could only take a few with them when they travelled. The iPod changed everything by making it possible to bring along your entire CD collection in your pocket wherever you went, and play the songs in whatever order you wanted. The online buying thing came about much later. Even today, 90% of all iPod capacity is filled from own CD collections.

While the Kindle may not be the answer yet, I think digital media would still be the way to go for reading the news. I still read the daily papers, mostly out of a 50-year habit than anything else. I will miss the funnies otherwise, and some of my favourite columnists. (Talking of which, I was quite pleased at the news of Dato' Johan Jaafar being appointed a director of the NSTP and the chairman of Media Prima Bhd. Congratulations, Dato' and all the best. I don't necessarily agree with all his views but I know he reads and thinks before he writes. That article he wrote after March 8 was priceless. I saw him on that general elections show, and I thought he looked frightfully uncomfortable. When I turned on my laptop I realised why.) But my news comes mostly through the internet every morning.

With more and more news being consumed via smart phones and other mobile devices, newswires are now increasingly going to the consumer directly. Bloomberg has had over one million downloads for its iPhone version. Reuters too is offerings its stories directly to the consumer on advertisement-financed websites. In 2008, only 25% of AP's revenue came from newspapers compared to 55% in 1985. Traditionally, newswires have been wholesalers and the newspapers their retailers who repackaged the news before they sold it.

So will newspaper survive? That is a big if, after print media consuming dinosaurs like me pass on. Circulations are tumbling all over the world. Many are closing down. It costs less to advertise in the e-media than in print. Most newspapers have internet editions that they give away for free. (Sorry, the subscription model does not work.) In the same issue of The Economist, Norman Pearlstine of Bloomberg says mobile users are willing to pay for ring tones, so why not for news? Here's why: ring tones are extensions of the ego. One uses them repeatedly for a long time until one gets tired of it. News remains news for a very short time. And there is no associated ego trip.

I think newspapers will be around for a while yet. I hope so. (I sure will miss Blondie, otherwise.) But they do need to take a new look at the entire model, for fear of becoming irrelevant. Maybe the print and digital media can co-exist.

Maybe the word is not 'can', it is 'should'.

Peter Carey warns of threat to Australian publishing

2009-02-16T14:06:00.000+08:00

In Alison Flood's story in The Guardian, Peter Carey talks of it as if it is an 'end of the world as we know it' scenario. He says it is a 'battle for the sake of our readers and writers' and a "cultural 'self-suicide'". (Is there another form of suicide?)

Another writer, Kate Grenville, says that it is 'A tragedy which would force many Australian authors to stop writing,' while Thomas Keneally is convinced it would cause "irreparable harm". It appears that the entire Australian book industry, from major authors to publishers, booksellers and agents, is up in arms about a proposed review of Australia's copyright laws.

Currently, the report says, Australian publishers are given 30 days to bring out an Australian edition of a book after its release anywhere in the world. If an Australian edition is released, Australian bookshops are required to sell the Australian version, and they can't import the book from overseas. As a result, books are more expensive in Australia than elsewhere. This has, apparently, allowed the country's local publishing to flourish, at the expense of cheaper overseas editions.

Carey's fear is that if the current copyright laws are taken away "global companies will decide that their Australian offices will be much more profitable as distributors of product than publishers of books. If this sounds creepily colonial, it is because it is." He (and the others) argue further that if not for the present government support, Australian authors (like themselves) would never have become internationally renowned. Grenville also says that her "experience shows how uninterested publisher are in our work", particularly if they are of literary nature.

But a government spokesman says, "Any policy reforms in this area will be aimed at enhancing Australia's longer term growth prospects."

An Australian publisher visited me some time ago. She was, of course, trying to persuade me to buy some Australian titles. I balked. And then I asked why books from Australia were so expensive? Her excuse was the small market size and logistics.

A typical Australian book would cost about RM60.00 as opposed to RM35.00 for one of similar quality from Britain or the US. When a customer walks into a bookshop, all books are equal. They do not necessarily have more loyalty to books from any specific country (unless they are particularly chauvinistic). Price is important, and with Australian titles costing almost twice more, it is not surprising that they are rarely found on the shelves of Malaysian bookstores. Granted, the Malaysian market is small, but how many Australian books get into Britain or the US?

(I had a minor misunderstanding -- or that's what I learned later -- with a Malaysian author who had her book published in Australia some years ago. Understanably, no distributor from Malaysia or Singapore would import it, and she could not understand why I was reluctant to bring in a book that would have cost at least twice as much on the shelf as another equivalent title -- notwithstanding the fact that she was an 'unknown'.)

The truth is Australian books are available in this country -- in stores that deal with remaindered books. Yes, that is right. There is a huge trade in Australian remaindered books, a trade from which the Australian author does not get one cent. (In fact, Australian barn sales are almost legendary.) And these remaindered books are extremely popular, particularly children's books. I (and several people I know) have for years acknowledged that Australia produces some of the best children's books in the world -- far better produced and more wonderfully inventive than similar stuff from Britain and the US. Seriously. I know of adults who collect and read them voraciously. But they are not found in regular bookshops because they simply cost too much. (Now, India is getting into that market with surprisingly creative and well-produced children's books at a fraction of the price, so watch out.)

For example, it is almost impossible to get Penguin Malaysia to import books from Australia and New Zealand. They either flatly refuse, or else give you such a ridiculously long delivery time that you'd think you'd grow old and die first. When Elizabeth Smithers was a guest in Kuala Lumpur in 2007 we had to use quite a lot of (governmental) muscle before they finally agreed to import some copies with great reluctance. To us, it was like extracting the books from them with forceps; to them it must have been like we were doing it without anaesthetics. (By the way, they still remind us of that.)

But it is not just in children's titles that they are outstanding. I have browsed the shelves of several 'remaindered' stores in KL and I have been impressed with many of their titles.

It is fine for Carey, Grenville and Keneally; they have arrived. And, that point about problems faced by 'literary' authors is taken. Literary writers all over the world face similar problems. Still, they have been recognised, as more Australian writers will be in future, because they are good. As for publishers and booksellers, what is there not to like about high prices and a 'closed shop' policy?

It is quite apparent that Australia has more to look at than its copyright laws as it increasingly prices itself out of the market. The world will not stand still. There is a potential new 800-pound publishing gorilla in the room. It is called India. And, many smaller ones snapping at the heels too.

The Guardian

The book industry -- times are a changing

2009-02-01T10:25:00.000+08:00

A story in the Publishers Weekly says that Borders has agreed to buy titles from HarperStudio on a non-returnable basis. The average book buyer will ask, "So what's the big deal?" But to people in the industry it is a radical shift, perhaps the sort of change that is required for the industry to survive and bring back some sense into it.

I will start with a primer on how the book industry currently operates. (Okay, this is how it operates in the US, the UK, Australia and Malaysia -- we think it's cool to ape everything they do in the US and UK without understanding why.)

In a simple world, publishers publish. Then the distributor's undertake to distribute the book for a fee of, say, between 50-60% of the RRP. They then sells the books to the bookseller for a discount of, say 30-40%, usually depending on volume. (The actual discounts vary, but this is an example.) The publisher meets the printing cost, royalty payments and overheads from his portion. The distributor costs are warehousing, transportation and administration. The bookstore has to pay his rental and his overheads. Not much meat in there, really.

Then comes the first distortion. The distributor sells the books to the book retailer on an SOR basis, that is, on sale-or-return terms. So books that are not sold will be returned to the distributor who will then issue a credit note. And the distributor likewise will return the books he cannot sell (including the returns he gets from the book retailer) to the publisher. The publisher then pays the author a royalty on what has been sold and then pulps or remainders the rest. (It costs more to pulp it than give it away or sell it cheap.)

There is a huge trade in remaindered books with many book retailers practically specialising in it. The general rule in this business is that the less you are allowed to choose the cheaper the books cost. Of course, the author earns no royalty from this type of sale (and this trade might even be in violation of the fine print on the copyright page that says 'no reselling'.) One problem with the SOR model is that bookstores can order 100 copies of a title even when they know they can only sell 25 because they can return the rest. (The rest are used to decorate the shop to make it look good.) Returns in this country are normally allowed within a period of one year, but it is usually done within six months. Some do it in three, just when the payments are due. After this most books are considered dead because few are reordered, except by independents and chains specialising in back lists. (The real bookstores.)

The next distortion came with the advent of mega-bookstore and supermarket chains. These stores started ordering books in thousands (and in the case of Harry Potter, hundreds of thousands) demanding huge discounts of between 75-85%, and bought their books directly from the publisher. This put a lot of pressure on the latter because of the high printing costs and, God forbid, probable massive returns within three months. The only way a publisher could handle this was by raising the marked price on the book. (Now you know why books are so expensive.) Books became commodities like rice, sugar, or shoes. People who sold books this way knew as much about them as hamburger-flippers.

In Malaysia right now, book distributors are holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop -- with the holiday season over, the returns are going to start soon. If the returns are as big as many people think they will be the repercussions to the industry could be serious. If it is larger, the effect could be catastrophic, and some people could go under.

Multiply the above a hundred fold and you get and idea of what they are facing in the UK and US. Add to that the past leveraging power of the mega-store chains that took out huge loans to expand ruthlessly, to stock up with huge inventories that they knew they could return, and sell them at massive discounts to kill the competition (and, to a certain extent, themselves).

Sensible people have been warning about this for two decades (just as they have been warning about the hubris on Wall Street). But reason has no answer for unmitigated greed, until the latter blows up in the face, that is.

Some publishers are not going to survive to see this, but firm sales could be a game changer. Some sanity could return to the industry, at last. Book retailers will only buy what they think they can sell if distributors will not take returns. Ditto with publishers. With no requirement to wallpaper the mega-chain stores premises with their books, publishers will not have to publish 1,000,000 copies to sell 100,000, and the subsequent lower overheads could mean lower prices for the consumer. It could also mean less carpet-bombing by publishers – less titles, but more carefully selected ones.

Of course, there will be fewer JK Rowlings. But that might not be such a bad thing.

Please, we're Malaysians, we don't swear

2009-01-15T14:03:00.000+08:00

(A version of this story appeared in the Malay Mail on the 15th of January 2009)

I don't normally open email attachments -- what with viruses, worms and trojans running wild -- but this time I did because it came from a close friend and it was about publishing. It was an English translation of Publication Guidelines from the Ministry of Internal Security, and the date at the bottom of the document was December 2007. (The Ministry of Internal Security, KKDN, was merged with the Ministry of Home Affairs, KHEDN, in March 2008 and is now known as the Ministry of Home Affairs, KDN.)

Though this document does sound like something bureaucrats would write, I am not sure of its authenticity. The translation might be wrong, too.

Section 1 says, "This guideline is to provide information and clarification in respect of undesirable publications highlighted under section 7(1) of the Printing Presses and publications Act 1984." Basically, it lists what the Act covers: publications prejudicial to public order, public interest, national interest, security, morality, likely to alarm public opinion, contravene any law and morality. (But, not in that order.)

Section 2 of the document is on definitions.

Section 3 explains what is considered undesirable in a publication. 'Publications Prejudicial to Public Order' is the first point. The next point is on morality and speaks generally about material that is obscene, sexually arousing, against public decency, proper values, public morality and religion. The remaining five points basically repeat Section 1.

It is in Section 4 that the guidelines go into some specifics. The first sub-section is on writings and articles. Prohibited items include racial and religious prejudice. Okay. Sedition includes all of the former as well as (commentary on) politics and the economy that are contrary to "national principles". So, if the economy is bad you can't say it. Then comes the use of vulgar language. Okay, all you writers out there, if you are writing a story about construction workers, vegetable sellers or politicians in the Parliament, make sure they use proper language and anatomically correct descriptions. We're Malaysians, we don't swear. And, no sexual acts, please. By the way, mystery and mystical stories that conflict with Islamic principles are also not allowed.

The next sub-section is about publication of pictures. Nudes and nudes with 'private parts' covered by 'something, for example hands, leaves, blacked out/blurred (mosaic) etc,' are prohibited. (Do you feel there is something wrong here? Anyway, watch out, all you photographers and artists.) Next, males and females are prohibited from sexy or indecent poses. Okay females, no bending over or lying face down showing 'a large portion (50%) of breasts', males and females don't sit with legs spread wide showing 'upper thighs'. There are several more mentions of 'private parts'. By the way, both sexes are not allowed 'smooching' and kissing poses, and to embrace. And if you are going to be photographed in a bikini, make sure there is a beach or a pool nearby. But if the pictures are of religious significance then it is okay. (Does that include the Kama Sutra? After all, Kama is the god of love in Hinduism, and the son of Lakshmi.)

The next sub-section is on advertisement. It pretty much covers all of the above, with more references to breasts, private parts and sexual organs. After that come song lyrics and audio recordings. Same same. (Okay, and no suggestive 'moaning' noises on the soundtrack either.)

The final sub-section is on 'Other Publication Material'. (I wonder why this is here; it is mostly about sex toys). Again the primary concern here again are breasts, private parts and sexual organs. Interestingly, also included are 'toys, souvenirs, clothes and figurines producing vulgar or obscene sounds'. (My curiosity is piqued. Has anyone seen or heard one of those?)

We can conclude from the guidelines (since it is produced by the ministry in charge) that breasts, private parts and sexual organs are the most serious internal security threats facing the country.

Meanwhile, in the UK, John Ozimek writes in The Register that a 35-year-old civil servant Darryn Walker will be prosecuted for the online publication of material that Police and Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) believe to be obscene. The story says that this is the first such prosecution for written material in nearly two decades and it is thought that a guilty verdict could have a serious and significant impact on the future regulation of the internet in the UK.

"The case originated in summer 2007, when Mr Walker allegedly posted a work of fantasy --titled Girls (Scream) Aloud -- about pop group Girls Aloud ... The story describes in detail the kidnap, rape, mutilation and murder of band members Cheryl Cole, Nadine Coyle, Sarah Harding, Nicola Roberts and Kimberley Walsh, and ends with the sale of various body parts on eBay."

Lady Chatterley's Lover took the 'obscenity test' in 1960 and passed.

The 1959 Obscenity Act of UK says in the section on The Test of Obscenity: "(1) For the purposes of this Act an article shall be deemed to be obscene if its effect or (where the article comprises two or more distinct items) the effect of any one of its items is, if taken as a whole, such as to tend to deprave and corrupt persons who are likely, having regard to all relevant circumstances, to read, see or hear the matter contained or embodied in it."

But under defence of public good it says:

4 (l) A person shall not be convicted of an offence against public good and an order for forfeiture shall not be made under the foregoing section, if it is proved that publication of the article in question is justified as being for the public good on the ground that it is in the interests of science, literature, art or learning, or of other objects of general concern.

(2) It is hereby declared that the opinion of experts as to the literary, artistic, scientific or other merits of an article may be admitted in any proceedings under this Act either to establish or to negative the said ground."

No one has been convicted in a long time.

I guess Malaysian bureaucrats are cleverer lah. They ban first. No need to go to court.

A year that was

2008-12-31T11:00:00.000+08:00

No, I am not going to write about what an absolute annus horribilis the year two-thousand and eight was, enough people are doing that. I am going to confine myself to book matters, though some of the former could creep in.

2008 was a year with no Harry Potter circus; that has run its course. So, there was really no big book to carry the year and give the book industry an artificial high. In fact there were hardly any big books at all, except for Salman Rushdie's The Enchantress of Florence, which I thought was one of the best books he has written in a long time, surely one of his most readable. Yes, some will quibble that it does not have the stature of his Midnight's Children (that was more than a quarter of a century ago, please move on). Some will complain about the way he is liberal with historical truths. So was Homer. It is a good story, a fun read.

As for Aravind Adiga's The White Tiger, my current plans are to give it a miss -- "the story of two Indias" is such a cliche. Why are Indian writers (apart from Naipaul and Rushdie) not allowed to simply tell a story? But, Amitav Ghosh's Sea of Poppies is still on my list. I am not interested in the rest. It was a pretty slow year for fiction. I am waiting for some translated works of Le Clezio to come out. Meanwhile, I will catch up on the classics.

In other international news, we all know about Borders selling off their stores in Australia, New Zealand and Singapore. In UK we have just heard that Euler Hermes has withdrawn credit insurance to their suppliers, which could mean that they will have to pay cash upfront for their merchandise. It appears they are a bit shaky in the US too.

In another story, Bertrams, one of the bigger book wholesalers in the UK, is up for sale after the demise of their parent company, Woolworth. Expect a major shake-up in the book industry next year. But Amazon.com did well over Christmas.

An industry shake-up is surely on the cards now. The book had been commoditised to absurdity, mass market merchants only understands what turns over or, in the bookseller language, "sells through". Books could be beans for all they cared. Perhaps now the real bookshops (indies or otherwise) will return to the fore, and publishers will focus on real books.

Shelf Awarness puts it succinctly: "Now may be a good time to get back to basics and do business together again if we all want to survive. Mass merchants will likely cut back on book sections at the first signs of under performance ... (but) Bookstores will stay the course. As the restructuring goes forward, we can only hope that publishers will return to their roots and work with booksellers to enhance backlist opportunities and develop new authors."

Which is what we at Silverfish Books have been doing most of 2008: developing new authors. There was no Silverfish New Writing 8. That felt kind of strange, but also a relief. It was fun while it lasted. We decided to stop it when it became a chore. So in 2008 we published three books by individual authors: Tales from the Court by Matthew Thomas (who, ironically, is the only Malaysian writer to 'graduate' from the New Writing series to produce a whole book of un-recycled material), Poems Sacred and Profane by Salleh ben Joned (a reprint of a collectible classic) and Ripples and other stories by Shih-Li Kow, who simply keeps going from strength to strength. We were putting the final touches to her work end of last month when we received an invitation to submit an entry for the Commonwealth Writer's Prize for the South East Asia and South Pacific region. We thought, if any current Malaysian writer deserves the nomination it is Shih-Li Kow. We have sent off her entry but we hope they will receive it on time considering the year-end holiday season. We are keeping our fingers crossed for her.

It has been a very memorable year.

Happy New Year, 2009.

Dancing on the deck of the Titanic

2008-12-15T17:41:00.001+08:00

(Mexican author, Alberto Ruy Sanchez, told me about an essay he wrote in defence of books titled, The Book is not a Shoe, over lunch some weeks ago, so it is with sincere appreciation to him that I write this.)

So Woolworth has gone bankrupt and Betrams Books, which it owns but is not under administration, is up for sale. I am sure that is not news anymore. The latest news to emerge from the publishing industry is that the Association of American Publishers (AAP) has reported that the book sales for the month of October decreased by 20.1 percent at US$644.5 million and were down by 3.4 percent for the year. 20.1%!? That is almost a disaster considering the incredibly low margins the industry works on. One dares not even think of the December season.

Like Sara Nelson of the Publishers Weekly, many have stopped reading their investment statements and even the business pages of their newspapers or listen to the news on television. It is far too relentlessly gloomy. Sara Nelson writes,"We all knew that publishing would not be spared; that feeling was palpable as early as last summer and certainly by Frankfurt -- when, if one more person compared going to the lavish Bertelsmann party to "dancing on the deck of the Titanic," I would have thrown him in the punch bowl. Still, while the news this week of massive layoffs and downsizing at Random House, Simon & Schuster, Thomas Nelson and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt was not surprising, it was, like any expected death, still a shock." Yes, there is no reason the publishing industry should be spared. It has been behaving as badly as the rest. Hence, the rub.

The book is a book, not a shoe. Real book people have been saying this for years. But with dollar signs dancing before their eyes everyone -- from contruction magnates to timber tycoons -- jumped into it. Hundreds of corporations with no idea what a book is, employed thousands who had never read one in their entire lives to run mega stores with hundreds of thousands of titles. From reports, Britain publishes close to 200,000 new titles a year, out of which 3000 make it to the main stores, with a handful remaining there for more than three months. What kind of industry is that? If any of the other industries worked on those numbers they would be closed by now.

A book is not a shoe, too, in many European countires which are strong about their heritage and culture thing. The last country to decide that a book was indeed a shoe was Switzerland, that despite valiant efforts by many to protect books as "cultural goods". In France, not too long ago, where retail book discounting is illegal, Amazon.com, which introduced free shipping, was convicted and made to pay a penalty when the booksellers association succesfully argued that 'free shipping' was indeed a discount.

In a recent International Market Comparisons: A Benchmark Study of Profitability by the Booksellers Association of the United Kingdom and Ireland (BA), comparing the market in the Netherlands, Ireland, Sweden, Finland, and the USA with the UK, the key findings were that the total UK market growth was one of the lowest, and the use of promotions and discounts created a 'vicious circle'. This despite the UK having a higher per capita book purchase than all markets except the US. In the Netherlands books cannot be sold at a discount until a year after release.

It could be (and has been) argued that the current problems in Britain arose with the demise of the national Net Book Agreement (NBA). The NBA was a British price-fixing agreement between publishers and booksellers which set the prices at which books were to be sold to the public that came into effect on January 1, 1900. Any bookseller who sold a book for less than the agreed price would no longer be supplied by the publisher. (Remember the time when we used to pay much lower fixed prices for our books in Malaysia?) The NBA enabled publishers to subsidise the works of important but less widely-read authors using money from bestsellers.

In August 1994 the Director General of the Office of Fair Trading decided that the Restrictive Practices Court should review the agreement. In March 1997 it was ruled that the Net Book Agreement was against public interest and was ruled illegal. So, what had been in place for a hundred years was dismantled only ten years ago, with nothing to replace it. The result has been chaos, ever since.

And the result? Bookstore chains benefitted. They were large enough to demand massive (and unreasonable) discounts, which the publishers provided by increasing the recommended retail price (RRP) of their books. The public bought bestsellers at reduced prices, but had to pay much more for other excellent books that were less popular. Buyers in smaller countries, without the benefit of volume, ended up paying more for their books. (This is made worse by the 'exclusive rights' agreeements signed between publishers and local distributors, but that is another story.) Large supermarket chains got into the business, mainly offering a limited number of best-selling titles at hugely discounted prices. After one hundred years of holding out as a 'cultural good' the book was finally reduced to a shoe, a throw-away consumer product alongside Kleenex and wipes for babies' bottoms. Many small independent bookshops were severely affected. Borders burst forth into high streets all over the world. (Their demise last year was probably the first sign that all was not well in the book-world.)

In Malaysia we continue to dance on the deck of the Titanic. How else does one explain the number of mega-bookstores in the Klang Valley, more than twice the number -- and retail area -- than in the whole of Singapore?

A matter of religion

2008-12-01T14:08:00.000+08:00

(A censored version of this story appeared in the Malay Mail on Thursday, 27th of November. Don't ask.)

Macintosh users have always lamented the fact that many software developers routinely release Windows versions of their programmes before they write one for their systems. Case in point, they are still waiting for a Mac version of Chrome, Google's latest browser. This is, naturally, understandable from the point of view of market forces. Latest survey suggest that the Mac has crept up to a 9.5% market share in the US, but much lower worldwide.

But now www.webmonkey.com, a web developer's resource owned by Wired Digital, laments that no one even wants to write a decent virus for the Mac platform on par with the millions that threaten Windows users daily. According to the blogspot, the latest attempt at creating a virus for the Mac, a trojan, is so lame that the user had to be incredibly stupid for it to work at all. Basically, the computer user will have to visit, what else, a porn site, download a video codec, open it, mount the disk image, and launch the application, which will then proceed to create a 'backdoor' for other malicious ware.

There was a story making the rounds on the internet a few years ago. (This story has been ascribed to several major computer companies, but I am sure they are apocryphal. But it is a good story).

A man contacted customer support saying that he was having trouble with his new computer. So they both went through an 'idiot's' check-list to eliminate the most commonly occurring problems – have you connected this cable to that, have you installed all the components and so on. After a long and arduous process, the customer insisted that there was still no sign of 'life' on the monitor. Finally there was only one thing left: the support guy asked the customer to check if the computer had been plugged in and switched on. The customer said that he was leaning over to see but was having difficulty spotting it because it was quite dark and there was light coming in from only one window in the room. The rest of the conversation apparently went like this:

"Well, turn on the office light then."

"I can't."

"No? Why not?"

"Because there's a power failure."

"A power... A power failure? Aha, Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"

"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."

"Good. Go get them, unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."

"Really? Is it that bad?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"

"Tell them you're too f***** stupid to own a computer." (Type this last sentence onto your browser and you can read the whole story online.)

The computer model is not mentioned, but when it comes to stupidity it does not matter which. The Mac versus PC argument is almost a matter of religion. You have to listen to these guys go at one another. Neither side will concede an inch when debating the superiority of their favourite machines, and operating systems.

I am often caught in the middle for I have used both machines, on a daily basis, for over twenty years. I use Macs at home and PCs in the office, and I don't feel I have betrayed any religious ideal. It's like owning a relatively expensive, moderately luxurious sedan for home and leisure use, and a cheaper, hardy pick-up or four-wheel-drive at work. What's wrong with that? My religious beliefs lean, decidedly, towards the Mac, I will admit, but that does not mean I should not acknowledge the superiority of PC for certain tasks, just like that of a utility vehicle over dirt tracks or on construction sites. Yes, PCs have viruses (millions of them), they leak memory, their hard disks get fragmented and they can be a pain, but they cost less and some programmes will not run on Macs.

So what can I say to those whose Mac religion forbids them from using PCs or vice versa? Sorry, that's your loss.

Never let facts get in the way

2008-11-15T14:52:00.000+08:00

(A version of this story appered in the Malay Mail on the the 6th of November.)

The French are disputing English accounts of the Battle of Agincourt of 1415. The English version has 6000 men (mainly archers) defeating a French Army of 30,000. Not quite, say the French, backing their argument with historical evidence. They are probably right, but then they are French.

Shakespeare immortalised that battle in 1599 in Henry V; it was too romantic not to. The battle has been described as England's 'finest hour'. But it was the bard who fire up the imagination of the people with his version of the story, truth be damned, and brought new glory to distant history. Shakespeare was no prophet, nor saint, nor historian, nor anything. He was only a storyteller, but helluva good one. He was at the (or was the) epicentre of the English renaissance and, probably, indirectly responsible for 400 years of world domination by his countrymen. Well, like journalists like to say: never let the facts get in the way of a good story.

It is not news that, of all the creatures in the world, we are the strangest. We eat and sleep and breathe and so on like all the rest, but one thing we do that none of the other creatures (are known to) do, is tell stories to one another. We need to tell and listen to stories every waking moment of our lives, be it on the telephone, radio, television, movies, newspapers, magazines, books or at the tea shop. We gossip, blog, report, write, dance, sing, and act out stories. We can never stop even if we try. We can go without a few meals. (During famines they will not have much to eat but they will keep alive by telling one another stories of hope, of spirit, of faith.) Our stories will be true, false, good, bad, exhilarating, depressing, funny, sad, tragic, magic ... anything. Most will be forgotten, but some will stick and become part of our culture, our ethos, our claim to human-ness. (I will leave the 'what, how, where and why' arguments to the anthropologists.)

There was a story in the newspapers not too long ago from India about the Sethusamudram Shipping Canal Project. Adam's Bridge (or Rama's Bridge or Rama Sethu) is a shallow chain of limestone shoals between India and Sri Lanka. The Indian government approved the project in 2001, but to date no work has started due to economic, environmental and religious arguments. The government can use all their scientists and argue until they are blue in the face, but they are not going to win the last one. According to the Ramayana, Hanuman and his monkey hoard built it. Period. Some researchers say that Rama was a god worshipped in Babylon and Egypt, and that he is mentioned in the Epic of Gilgamesh, that by the time Valmiki wrote down his version 2500 years ago, his story was already several centuries (if not millenniums) old. Of the over 300 known versions of the Ramayana, Valmiki's is the most popular and the most romantic. What can mere logic do in the face of such a good story, of such a romance?

Storytelling is such a potent force that it is not surprising that forces have existed throughout history to control it. During the Inquisition, the clergy demanded absolute control of the media, and literacy was actually illegal. People were put to death in the most terrible ways if it was found out (or suspected, or rumoured) that they could read. The church controlled the Word and all interpretations of it absolutely. The people of Europe paid a horrifying price for freedom of information. In ancient India, it was the Brahmins, who started of as minstrels singing the praises of their kings, who saw the power in the monopoly of knowledge. The myth of the battle between 300 Spartans against the Persians still influences East-West relationships and dialogue, that people of the East are an inferior people.

It is not surprising that many rich countries 'steal' cultural talent from poorer ones, and not just for tourism promotion. Stories make nations, and nations make stories. They are part of the blood that runs through our veins; they live in our genes; they create our memes. We may not like some of it but the alternatives, of letting one small group decide for everyone, for a one size fits all solution, are frightening.

Let's leave the Middle Ages where we left it, 500 years ago.

Why I like to read fiction

2008-10-31T12:17:00.000+08:00

(A version of this story appeared in The Malay Mail on the 30th of October 2008).

I would get people coming into the store and announcing very loudly that they did not read fiction any more, as if it was an for activity simpler minds. I would simply smile without saying anything, but I would think, "How sad. How many non-fiction Nobel Literature laureates do you know?"

Don't get me wrong. I have read, and still read, plenty of non-fiction, and I do have an extensive collection of titles on history, politics, philosophy and theology. The problem with non-fiction is that it is, most of the time, filled with so much of prejudice, bias, personal agendas, half-truths, distortions and omissions. Take history for instance: I will have to read at least six books before I even get an idea of what actually happened (and more, to actually understand). As for politics and theology, one may never know the truth no matter how many books one reads. And then we have just-add-water books masquerading as philosophy (much like Kenny G records in the jazz racks of music stores).

I have come a full circle and I read mostly fiction now. Oh, there are the bummers, of course, and often all that pandering, stereotyping, cliche mongering and bad writing gets to me and, sometimes, I seriously want to invite them for coffee in one of those swanky joints and, like somebody I know would, advise them never to write again. (But, I know I am too chicken for that.) Still, I persist. It is like going through a basket of durians: you are pushed on by a memory of a really good fruit you once ate, you want to rediscover it, you want to feel again that creamy texture, you want to experience that divine bitter sweet taste once more, you are willing to go through an entire basket, through a lot of poor ones, average ones, okay ones, good ones before you finally get to that great one. Yes!

JM Coetzee's 1999 Booker Prize winning novel, Disgrace, is one such literary fruit, one that comes along only a few times every century. Good literature is like good software -- user (readers) will find far more uses (messages) in it than the author intended or even thought possible.

David Lurie is a professor who teaches English Romantic poetry at a university in Cape Town. An affair with one of his students gets him into trouble. It is not a difficult situation, he could have easily got off with an apology, as false as it may be. But he refuses to give in to the prurience and sentimentality of his judges. He is disgraced, loses everything and goes to live with his daughter in a farm. David is arrogant and not very likable. Yet, when he ponders if he should submit himself for castration and live the life of a neutered domestic beast, we can identify with him, as if that is what being human is all about --to live at the level of beasts, rewarded for 'right' behaviour and punished for getting out of line.

Things don't get better at the farm. His daughter is raped and he gets assaulted badly. He is outraged; he sees the perpetrators at a neighbour's party, but his daughter will not allow him to create a ruckus or even confront them. She has to live in that neighbourhood. She prefers to accept the humiliation and get on with her life, albeit in disgrace. She marries her neighbour, who was probably a party to the crime in the first place, for 'protection'. Sounds familiar? Like beasts, we will live in disgrace, for the little crumbs, the little mercies tossed at us.

Most reviewers I've read don't get that. They can see David's disgrace, but not his daughter's. They are too consumed by their own self-righteousness to even think it possible for anyone not to be outraged. Welcome to the Third World. It feels like an abomination, because that is what it is. That's why it is scary. Some of us have broken out, saying: "We will not take it anymore." But the truth is the majority would prefer to live like neutered domestic beasts, constantly herded and kept in line. They will get (metaphorically, but sometimes actually) raped over and over and over and their advise will still be, "Don't rock the boat." (The word rakyat comes from the Arabic word for a herd of sheep.) We are told constantly about what we can and cannot do, what we can and cannot have, all for our own 'good' because we cannot think for ourselves. And under no circumstances are we allowed to express ourselves.

Coetzee's situations are extreme, but these are story-telling devices, artistic license to make a point. It is not a very large book, only 224 pages. There are many similarities between post apartheid South Africa and Malaysia, except it is not so extreme here. Yet.

Hassle of doing business in KL

2008-10-16T12:30:00.000+08:00

I have been having a spot of bother with DBKL recently (for almost two years now , actually). It started in May last year when we were still at the old premises, when two DBKL enforcement officers came into Silverfish Books and demanded to see our Lesen Premis. (Din Merican and Dina Zaman were there at that time and witnessed the whole event.) I told the enforcement officers that I had checked with my lawyers and the company secretary and they comfirmed that bookshops were not on the list of trades that required the said license. They wanted to see an official letter but, of course, I didn't have any. (So, like Kafka, yah? If you don't have a certificate confirming that you are sane, then you are not!) They said they were going to give me a Notis Kesalahan, and I said I was willing to accept one.

Subsequently, I wrote to the licensing department (by AR Registered, so I know they have received the letter) to seek clarification of the clause under which I was being charged. I received no reply. Meanwhile I managed to obtain a copy of the Local By-laws with the help of a lawyer. Neither one of us could find any clause that required bookshops to apply for a Lesen Premis.

On the 26th of November 2007, I received a reminder from DBKL to pay a fine of RM2000.00 or else....

On the 3rd of December 2007 went to see their Legal Officers (at the HQ building in Jalan Raja Laut). The legal officer I met was extremely polite and she explained to me that the UUK Pelesenan Tred Perniagaan & Perindustrian (WPKL) under which Silverfish Books was charged, actually only applied to business dealing with noxious material or were otherwise a danger to the public. As such, she said that bookshops were not on the list.

I came back and wrote them a letter thanking them for the clarification. They wrote back to us, withdrawing the Notis Kesalahan, with a copy to the Director of the Licensing Department with the message: 'Notis ini dibatalkan. Perniagaan tidak termasuk dalam senarai tred yang dilesenkan.'

I thought that was the end of it. Then we moved, and we applied for a new licence for our signboard (as required by the law.) But the Licensing Department refused to accept our application unless we also applied for a Lesen Premis (although we didn't require one). Having no choice we did.

Then we got a letter (dated 4th September 2007, but unsigned and not on the official DBKL letterhead, but looking authentic enough), slipped to us as it were, suggesting (I say this because I do not regard it as an official letter) that our application for the signboard licence (and the Lesen Premis) has been rejected because: 'Premis yang mempunyai tangga tunggal adalah tidak dibenarkan mengikut Undang-undang Kecil Bangunan Seragam 1984' with the letter being copied to the BOMBA, whose ruling it apparenly was.

I went to the legal department of DBKL again. They were again sympethetic and told me to see the legal officer at the licensing department in Kampong Baru. After trudging there, wasting half a day's work, they told me that while the lettter from the Legal Department was valid, they had their own rules!

I have written a letter to the Minister and the Mayor, with copies to the ACA, the Public Complaints Bureau, our MP for Bangsar and to the various newspapers. I don't know if anything will come out of it. But right now I am pessimistic with such impunity, such disregard for the law, despite a letter from their own legal advisors. Even Kafka would have been hard pressed to beat that.

Then there is the question of the 'tangga tunggal', that is buildings with only one staircase. From what I have seen there are no shophouses in KL, up to three storeys high, which have a second staircase or a fire escape. Are they all there illegal? Were they not approved by DBKL? Are all businesses and offices (including government) operating on the first (and upper) floors illegal?

People I tell this story to are, often, more outraged than I am. The audacity is mind numbing. I have received some advice on how this could be 'settled'. But I am old and I am tired. Enough is enough. Can we have the rule of law for a change?

Do you have short stories?

2008-09-30T14:25:00.000+08:00

This article, written by Shiv Das, appeared in The Malay Mail on the 23 of September, 2008. It is reproduced here for those who missed it for some reason or other.

This lawyer-cum-writer took his first short story to Silverfish Books two years ago and it worked. Encouraged, he said he had more but it was only two years later that he submitted them.

And even then, they were presented in hand-written form, much to the amusement (or dismay?) of the publisher.

They were fine, said publisher Raman Krishnan, but handwritten? Enter Thomas' wife who came to the rescue and had them typed properly, an act that was duly and gratefully acknowledged at the launch of the book, Tales from the Court and other stories earlier this month.

So point one. If you have something to publish, your best bet may be Silverfish. You could be glad just like Thomas.

Point two: The launch does not have to be fancy. The publisher's store in Jalan Telawi, Bangsar Baru, will do nicely. And if you are one who likes to keep things low key, you can get your best friend to do the launch, as Thomas did.

That friend was Mohamed M Keshavjee, himself a lawyer, working for the Aga Khan, the Ismaili spiritual leader who has dedicated himself to humanitarian health and education programmes and preservation of heritage and environmentally friendly architecture.

Keshavjee flew in from Paris to do the needful. Time and space hadn't prevented him and Thomas from maintaining their abiding friendship of more than 40 years.

Keshavjee has an Afterword rather than Foreword in the book. The two had fashioned their friendship while in London studying law, one at Grey's Inn and the other at Middle Temple.

The book, a compilation of short stories, is set mostly in the Kuala Lumpur of the 50s and brings out the essence of the characters "playing the little games in life, made up of illusions, craftiness, ego, hope and aspirations."

There are also accounts of the author in London in the 60s, all written in an easy yet compelling style.

Point three. If in writing the book, you have a son or daughter who has artistic talent, get him or her to design the cover and other illustrations, like Thomas' son Aaron did.

Point four. If you have a relative, a prodigy of sorts, it is possible to entertain the gathering at the launch. That will be another big plus appreciated by all present. Andrew Sanjay, 11, a grand nephew of Thomas, gave an impromptu rendition of Leonard Bernstein's Tonight, the theme song of the musical, West Side Story.

Already an accomplished singer, he is a member of the KL Children's Choir.

The bottom line. If you have the yen to write and have stories to tell, just do it because chronicling life’s journey and experiences helps preserve our rich Malaysian heritage.

For more information on the book, which sells for RM30, log on to www.silverfishbooks.com

The Malay Mail

Books most abandoned

2008-09-15T12:37:00.000+08:00

WRITING: Most Left Behind Books

Why are some books left behind at hotels? Not for lack of space inside the suitcase, I should think, not if you really love the book. But then some, like the BookCrossing people, leave books they like for others to pick up. I will never do that with a book I love. I would rather buy extra copies of books I love to give away to people who would otherwise want to borrow my copy. (I know it does not make sense, but I have a great fear that firstly the book will not come back -- why isn't stealing books a crime punishable by death yet? -- and secondly, if it does get returned it often looks like it just came back from a battlefield -- even if the damage is just a little nick on the cover.) So with all my personal prejudices in place, I'd say that people will only leave books behind if they absolutely hate it, or they are culling, or if they have just acquired a hardback copy (or a first edition). I suffer inconsolably whenever a book of mine leaves home to live with someone else, even for a little while, even if I know she will look after it with extreme care. (Yes, yes, yes, but what about her children with their grubby little hands that were just holding pizza? What if her husband spills coffee? What if, there is a major thunderstorm, and the roof tiles in her house which have not been secured properly come lose, and it leaks, and her house gets flooded, and my book gets wet? Workers are all Indonesians now, you know. What if, what if? It was never easy being a book parent. Now it is getting harder. And no, I am not going to see a doctor about it, thank you very much.)

So it is with a little disdain that I looked at (yes, it is in pictures) this Sky News feature on Books Most Abandoned In Travelodge Inns. Here is the dirt:

Celebrity books take all the first five spots. The most abandoned book is Meet John Prescott by the former UK Deputy Prime Minister. That is not surprising. We have plenty of Malaysian politicians we would like to forget. Second is comedian Russel Brand's My Booky Wook. Third most left behind book is by another 'political' celebrity, Cherri Blair with Speaking for Myself, about her life from her childhood in working-class Liverpool, to the heart of the British legal system and then, as the wife of the prime minister. Kati Price (Jordan) follows with two books. Why did she even bother? Television host Piers Morgan is next. I guess it is safe to say they all got what they deserved. Leave writing to writers.
Then comes the surprise. Ian McEvan's On Chesil Beach, which was on last years Booker shortlist, which sold over 100,000 in hardback, is at number six. It is hardly my favourite book, but I will not give my hardback copy away. (It does not say if the books left behind were paperbacks or hardbacks.) What is the problem? Too difficult to read? Boring? Not quite John Grisham? Maybe the next book, also fiction, might give us a clue: Kathy Kelly's Lessons in Heartbreak. From the Amazon.com blurb it sounds like a major tearjerker. Did On Chesil Beach jerk your tears? Not mine, though it did leave me a little dissatisfied. Another work of fiction on the list is Blind Faith by Ben Elton.
The other two would fall into our 'just add water' classification (if we had such a section). Soak book in 800 mls of water, bring to a simmer on low flame, add sugar (or salt) to taste, allow to cool, and drink a glass before bedtime for a lifetime of warm fuzzy feelings, instant riches, instant health and perfect happiness. Alternatively, admit yourself into the psychiatric ward of the nearest hospital. Number eight: Alvin Hall's You and Your Money -- a personal relationship. Number Ten: Rhonda Byrne's The Secret.

Sky News

Why don't boys read?

2008-09-01T10:42:00.000+08:00

(A version of this story appeared in the Malay Mail on the 28^th of August)

This question resurfaces every now and then and, lately, has been the subject of much internet stories -- the first one in the Wall Street Journal and the other in the Timesonline. They read texted messages; they read games instruction manuals and football magazines, so it is not like they are illiterate. Publishers in America claim to have found one solution: gross them out. That's right, give them what they want and they will read. So 261 titles aimed at boys was released in 2007, from the gory (Vlad the Impaler: the real Count Dracula, Leopold II: Butcher of the Congo and Mary Tudor: Courageous Queen or Bloody Mary?) to gross (Captain Underpants, Sir Fartsalot Hunts the Booger, and The Day My Butt Went Psycho). Says John Hechinger of the WSJ, 'Publishers are hawking more gory and gross books to appeal to an elusive market: boys -- many of whom would rather go to the dentist than crack open Little House on the Prairie. Booksellers are also catering to teachers and parents desperate to make young males more literate.'

I think of my own reading when I was a kid. By the time I was ten, I had read every Enid Blyton I had set my sights on (I don't know how many, but surely over fifty) after finishing all the bridged and illustrated classics (Robinson Crusoe, King Arthur, Ivanhoe, etc, etc). At eleven years old, I added Hardy Boys, Sherlock Holmes, Jules Verne and HG Wells to the menu. From twelve to thirteen, I must have read every Agatha Cristie, Leslie Charteris (The Saint) and Earl Stanley Gardner (Perry Mason) book published. I won't say what I was reading when I was fourteen because I am afraid you might call my mother.

In Malaysia I guess the question would be, 'Why don't people read?' (Before we go further, let me assure you that we did have television when I was young. I'm not that old. In fact, the number of books sold worlwide has increased many fold despite television and the internet.) There is a story I'd like to relate. It was during the early years of Silverfish Books. There was his lady, one of those teacher types with thick black plastic-rimmed glasses and tight hair bun, who came into the shop asking for workbooks, in particular on a Malaysian author whose work had just been added to the Form Five English curriculum. I told her that we didn't sell workbooks. Besides, since the inclusion of this author was recent, there was not likely to be workbooks anywhere.

'Oh dear,' she said. 'Does that mean I will have to read the book?'

Gobsmacked doesn't begin to describe my reaction.

'Malaysians read two books a year'. I have been hearing this for almost ten years, with no other details -- sample size, demography, what kind of questions were asked, what was included, not included, nothing. Frankly, I don't believe the figure. I think the situation is far worse and whoever put out the number is trying not to make us look less bad than we are. (If the number is correct, we should be importing some 50 million books a year. Are we?)

I was at the Dataran Merdeka once, about a year ago, at about six-thirty in the evening. We were early for the show at the Town Hall, so I persuaded my wife to take a walk to the KL City Library on the other side. Of course, it was closed. What was I thinking? That is the absurdity of the situation: the only time people can go to a library is after school or work, but they are closed. It is bad enough we have so few libraries to start with. (When I was growing up in JB, I had three libraries to choose from: the one in school, the town library next to the post office, and the National Library in Singapore.) And, building humungous library in places people have no access to, does not exactly help.

Okay, not every teacher is as bad as the one I described above. Some are worse. But, I would like to propose another survey. How many teachers actually read the books they have to teach? How many read anything apart from what they have to teach? (Include tertiary level.) How many library employees read? How many employees of Dewan Bahasa read?

I hear parents complaining about their children all the time. Sometimes, when I am feeling jahat, I will ask them what type of books they read. It is a lot like the Malay proverb about the crab teaching his son to walk straight. But it is not their fault entirely, not with our education system that makes the Ford Model T assembly line look modern. To read, one has to have some competency in a language, at least the ability to write one's name. And the books must be fun. So, there.

(Psst. The books I was reading at fourteen were so much fun that I had to pass them under the desks in school.)

The Amazon juggernaut

2008-08-15T13:54:00.000+08:00

A recent story in iStockAnalyst, Amazon.com to Acquire AbeBooks, sent a chill down my spine. Jeff Bezos wants nothing less than world domination. So, why am I surprised? Looks like everyone wants to dominate the world these days: Microsoft, Google, Apple, Dewan Bandaraya ...

According to the report, Amazon.com, Inc. has announced that, subject to closing conditions, it has reached an agreement to acquire AbeBooks. Those who are familiar with it, AbeBooks is an online marketplace with (reportedly) over 110 million titles, primarily, used, rare and out-of-print books that are listed by thousands of independent booksellers from around the world or, in other words, the only credible online competition for Amazon.com. One will be able to find pretty much any book that has been printed on Abebooks, and buy it if one is willing to pay the price. From our survey, the prices are very reasonable. But the main cost, due to our geographical location, will be the postage. (I still haven't decided if I want to spend USD25.00 -- not including postage -- for a mass-market paperback edition of John Allegro's The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross.)

I understand that the operative word in business today is no longer monopoly. It is hegemony -- the little guys can set up all the bookshops they want, but we are going to take a cut from it all ... mwahahahaha.

Both the companies are making the customary 'best experience for customers' noise. Russell Grandinetti, vice president of books for Amazon.com says, "AbeBooks provides a wide range of services to both sellers and customers, and we look forward to working with them to further grow their business ..." Right. And Hannes Blum, chief executive officer of AbeBooks is quoted, "This deal brings together book sellers and book lovers from around the world, and offers both types of customers a great experience ... We are very excited to be joining the Amazon family." Right again.

The report says that AbeBooks will continue to function as a stand-alone operation based in Victoria, British Columbia. Let's see how long that will last.

Meanwhile, Richard Cohen in his Washington Post blog, The Book on the Shelf, laments the death of the book as we know it. He writes, "What Jeffrey P. Bezos, Amazon's founder, wants more than anything is to do away with the book as we know it." He further says that according to Steven Kessel, one of Amazon's 'top guys' in charge of 'digitizing everything in sight', Bezos once said that 'he couldn't imagine anything more important than reinventing the book ...'

Does Bezos read? I mean seriously read? Does he know what a book is?

Richard Cohen goes on, "The book is warm. The book is handy. The book is handsome to the eye. The book occupies the shelf of the owner and is a reflection of him or her ... The book is always there, to be reached for, to be thumbed and, too often, I admit, to wonder about: Why did I buy this? My bookcase is full of mysteries."

It is at this point that the sitcom laugh track goes, "Aawwww ..."

But yes, I know how it feels. I feel so comfortable in my little room (into which I crawl when I want to be by myself) surrounded by my books I have acquired through the ages ... some are fifty years old ... no, more ... I inherited some from my father, and he got some of those from my grandfather. Bezos wants to replace all that? Surely, there are better things to replace.

(Am I just being over-sentimental here? Did I not feel something similar when my collection of vinyl records became obsolete? Was that the same?)

Richard Cohen further writes, "Bezos will win. Amazon has this device that downloads books. It is called the Kindle, which must be one of those focus group words. Sounds like the German word for children. Sounds like kind. Sounds innocent. Of course, it is not. My friends, book lovers all, have bought Kindles. At first, I was shocked: You? A Kindle? It's like discovering some sort of secret perversion."

Sigh. Are we simply being nostalgic? Soft? Is the Kindle really only a perversion?

Please, tell me that it is.

iStockAnalyst

The Wasington Post

Two good things

2008-07-31T17:36:00.000+08:00

It is beginning to get a little down beat living in this city these days, what with exploding maidens, disappearing doctors and PIs, astonishing incompetence, and unbelievable hubris. It is almost as if the Chinese curse 'may you live in interesting times' is haunting us. It did arouse my baser instincts in the beginning but I don't feel that way anymore. To paraphrase one expat who came into the shop recently: "What's going on here? There are so many major issues all over the world and people here are only interested on who did what to whom." I had to concede that this is a bizarre country.

However, I am elated by two bits of pretty exciting news (for me at any rate) that came my way in the last week. The first is the publication of the book Tales from the Court by Matthew Thomas. (I'll come to the next one later.) So, what's so exciting about it, you may ask? Another writer, another book. Only that Matthew Thomas is sixty-two years old and has never written creatively before (except for legal briefs). His short story appeared in Silverfish New Writing 5. As far as I know, he is the only Silverfish New Writer from Malaysia, out of more than 150, to have come up with his own volume of short stories in English (I am not counting those who have recycled their previously published stories), and ironically it has to happen after we decided to end the series.

I didn't know that he had never written before when he asked me if I liked his story in SNW5. He asked if he could send me some more. I said, sure. I had almost given him up as 'another one of those' when he sent me his manuscript some two years later. I was delighted. Later when I found out that he had just finished writing them whilst engaged in his full-time legal practice, and that these were not stories he had written years ago, I was gobsmacked. He was certainly not going to spend the next ten years congratulating himself and milking the glory from the one short story in SNW5. And Matthew is no one-hit-wonder. He is already working on his next book.

As Mohamed M Keshavjee, his very good friend, says in the afterword to the book, 'In this book, all ... characters talk to us. The author captures the very essence of their being ... and their little games in life ...' In Tales from the Court are little anecdotes of little people, much like in the works of RK Narayan or Jorge Amado, and not grand narratives. This is a book by Malaysians for Malaysians. Matthew refuses to pander.

Tales from the Court is the second book in Silverfish Books' Malaysian Literature in English series. And Malaysian literature, it is. This is what we hope to be doing from now on: complete books by Malaysian authors. Currently we have six more in our line-up. Yes, we are not prolific. We prefer to take our time, work with authors and produce books they can live with, and we can live with. How many more Matthew Thomases are there out there? Please raise your right hand and step forward. We need more of you.

Our aims are modest -- about a dozen or more Malaysian authors producing good books consistently should boost the industry. Win prizes? Why not? A Commonwealth Writers' Prize for the South East Asia and South Pacific region is certainly not inconceivable. The Booker? Okay, I am going to let fly on something that I have kept bottled up for a while now:

Page 90, Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2005.

'Bomnabhai's wife's earlobes, lengthened with the weight of South African diamonds, so great, so heavy, that one day, from one ear, an earring ripped through, a meteor disappearing with a bloody clonk into her bowl of srikhand.'

Earring? Meteor? If ever there was a schoolgirl simile ... Okay, give her an 'A' for her composition ... clever Form Five schoolgirl ... but a Man Booker? What were they thinking? Is this the epitome of English prose today? (I can imagine the cattiness in the room after the results were announced and she went up to receive her prize ...)

There is more. The book is full of it -- silly similes and stereotypes. (Is there some kind of competition going on, about who can come up with the silliest?)

Anyone surprised why I cannot read books like this anymore? VS Naipaul got it right: '... Indian Writers in English (IWE's) are responsible for creating a body of literature in exile mainly written by writers and read by readers living abroad ...' Yes I know, European and American readers like this shit, it confirms their stereotype and ignorance, and writers make a lot of money. But, again ... a Man Booker? If anyone wrote that at a Silverfish Writing Programme, I will tell them to 'go and take a shower'. (BTW, a customer told us that this book is in the chick-lit section in one major bookshop. Padan muka.)

Gosh, I am making myself all depressed again.

So, while we look forward to rubbishing this year's winner let's go on to the next good thing that happened to me recently. I got my Malaysian International Passport renewed in one hour and fifty-five minutes. Yes, you read that right. They promise a two-hour service with the new kiosks at Pusat Bandar Damansara. I had to test it. It works. Oh boy, does it work. Finally, something in this country works as promised. No form filling, nothing. One passport photo, photocopy of IC, original IC, old passport, two minutes in front of the touch-screen kiosk, and collect your new passport two hours later. Guess what? No queues.

Cool.

The Kindle conundrum

2008-07-16T12:31:00.000+08:00

"It doesn't matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don't read anymore ... Forty percent of the people in the US read one book or less last year. The whole conception is flawed at the top because people don't read anymore."

This is Steve Jobs' comment when asked about the e-reader in general, and the Amazon Kindle in particular. But then Steve Jobs is noted for making comments like that and then coming up with a device that blows the competition out of the water. Think iPhone, talking about which the latest 3G model had just sold one million in the first three days. In contrast according to a Bloomberg report, James Mitchell, an analyst at Goldman Sachs Group Inc. in New York, estimates that the Kindle sold between 25,000 to 50,000 units in the first three months of it launch. (Jeff Bezos himself refused to divulge any numbers, Steve Jobs was happy to.)

For many, the Kindle is dead -- say the last rites and get it over with. For others, the jury is still out yet, though they are beginning to sound more and more like cheerleaders still moping about on the bleaches about the referee's controversial penalty decision, refusing to leave the stadium, long after the game is over and all the spectators have gone home. Or hedge fund managers trying to talk-up the price of Amazon stock so they can cash out quickly.

In a story posted on Seekingalpha.com titled Amazon's Kindle Numbers: All Fluff, Zero Substance, Preshant Cherukuri writes: "It is very obvious that Amazon's Kindle is a huge flop. In six months of travelling, I am yet to see a single person on any bus, train or plane with a Kindle in their hands. Contrast that with the iPod or iPhone or even the Sansa, where people can actually be seen using them everywhere."

He adds: "... I still have not understood why anyone would pay US$350 for a device that needs to be powered up all the time to be in use, just to read a book which otherwise costs US$15 on an average. And its not like the e-book is free on Kindle: you have to shell out an
average of US$10 per book."

This is a view not uncommonly expressed. I can't understand it either. I have no intention of buying an iPhone (I do not use mobiles) but I can see how it could be useful. For one thing, the iPhone is merely a fully-fledged computer masquerading as a mobile phone. (Has AT&T not caught on yet?) You can watch DVD quality movies, television shows, listen to music, play games (Wired Magazine says the other gaming platforms better watch out), surf the net, do word processing, spreadsheets, and emails in a device that fits into your shirt pocket. And ... read books, newspapers and magazines? (Apple also reported that it recorded 10 million software downloads for the iPhone, also in the first three days of the launch.) Doesn't give Kindle much of a chance, does it? I have not seen one, but from photographs it does not look like it will fit into a pocket easily.

Then, PC Pro says that author Nick Hornby writes on his blog: "Attempting to sell people something for GBP400 that merely enables them to read something that they won't buy at one hundredth of the price seems to me a thankless task ..." He says a member of staff at Borders
told him that. He asserts they are so expensive that even multi-millionaire stars don't want them, and says that his local bookstore is "piled high" with Iliad eBook readers.

Then there are the cheerleaders. The Bloomberg report mentioned above says: "Donald Graham, chief executive officer of Washington Post Co., travels almost every week and says he hardly ever leaves home without his Kindle digital book reader from Amazon.com Inc."

And that: "By 2010, Amazon may get 3 percent, or US$741 million, of revenue from sales of the paperback-sized reader and digital books, according to Citigroup Inc. analyst Mark Mahaney, a Kindle user. That's up from this year's 0.3 percent, or US$60 million ..." Someone even says, "It's reasonable to assume books will go the way of music or the DVD at some point, with the majority being sold digitally ..."

Ahem.

A more recent report in The Independent says that Waterstone's is to launch its own e-Reader. Borders UK launched one in May. Waterstone's, which is part of HMV Group, is thought to have signed a deal with Sony.

For more related stories in cyberspace read Kindle seen as transitional technologi in Business Week and Is a Kindle to books as an iPod is to tunes? in the San Fransico Chronicle. Talk about wishful thinking.

Meanwhile, Gregory Lamb of the Christian Science Monitor reports that "As Microsoft backs away from digitizing old texts, some worry that a single company could privatize world knowledge.” That is, Google. "Should a single company be left in charge of putting all of the world’s books online?" he asks. The story is about concerns of Google becoming the new evil empire. But what is interesting is that Google CEO, Dr Eric Schmidt, sits on the Board of Apple.

Hmmm. It is getting interestinger and interestinger.

It was 20 years ago today ...

2008-06-30T13:51:00.000+08:00

We wish we could sing that (20 years ago today, that is), but no ... we turned nine on the 25th of June. Yes, that's right. We are now into out tenth year. We let the milestone pass more in sober reflection rather than in celebration though. To be honest, we are still trying to wrap our heads around it.

What does nine years mean? That it has been a good fight and we are still around? Or, 'Oh my God, has it really been that long?' Or, is that all? Feels like we have been at it forever? Actually, it feels like all of that, at the same time.

We opened for business in Desa Sri Hartamas on the 25th of June 1999. At that time there were no mega bookstore in KL (MPH Mid-Valley only opened about nine month later). The scene was pretty bleak. There was, of course, Skoob Books -- the only bookstore that could provide us with the type of books we wanted then. The concept for Silverfish Books was pretty simple. We wanted a bookstore with the types of books we personally would want to read, with places to sit and browse through our selection without having to balance them precariously on tiny little horizontal surfaces available in between bookshelves, and possible have some coffee as we sorted them and decided which to buy. It was not based on any bookshop we knew (except maybe one in Melbourne we liked, that had played classical music at low volumes for ambience -- not muzak, not extra loud pasar malam 'One, Two, Three o'clock, Four o'clock, Lock'), it was just something we wanted. But, people have told us that Silverfish Books is like this or that bookshop in other parts of the world, and we'd go, "Oh?" (Two of the best compliments: a gentleman who came in for the first time said, "Oh, this is a real bookshop," and another said "This looks just like a bookshop in India." Wahhh!!! We were really flattered by the second comment. If you have ever been to a bookshop in India, you will understand.)

But book retail in KL is, of course, crazy. 'Dah-lah, we started in the middle of a recession, then mega stores started opening up all over like nobody's business, in a city where no one reads, with thousands upon thousands of imported books (while Singapore was going through a period of consolidation). This is a bizarre country.

We started publishing in 2001 with Silverfish New Writing 1. There was a real buzz around that one. We decided to make a go for it (against the advice 'publishing in Malaysia got no future-lah') in mid-September 2001, sent out the emails end-September requesting for submissions by end-October. We received 200 stories. Amir Muhammad volunteered to do the selection and editing, a whole host of people volunteered to proof it, to do the illustration, to design the cover and everything, and the book was out before Christmas. (There must be a record in there somewhere.) To date it is our favourite.

The rest, like they say, is history. To date we have published 29 titles of which 25 are still in print. Have we made a difference, a dent? We think so but, of course, we could be accused of being a little precious. It will be for others to decide. We have stopped doing the Silverfish New Writing series, as you know, but that's because we want to move-on to the next level. We want to focus on book-length prose from now on. (We already have six authors with previously unpublished books lined up, and they all live in the country.)

Then we have organised two International Literary Festivals -- in 2004 and in 2007 -- with writers from a dozen different countries. It was exciting, it was stressful, it was a little audacious, it was niggly, but ultimately, we have been told, it was fun. (Sometimes, we are too tired to notice).

So, how has the first nine years been? We have been flattered and flamed and called all sorts of names, but we guess, okay-lah. At least, we have not been ignored.