To my mind, the best thing about the Sydney Writers’ Festival (SWF) is the way the dialogue can get my mind careening in all different directions. In a roundabout way—and as long as you buy it—I’ll be using this as an excuse for this blog’s tardiness. You hear about topics you haven’t considered; if you have considered it, well, here’s a brand new way to think about it. I hope to share some of that magic with you. Here, the highlights of my two-day literary marathon.
Tea Obrecht
It was inspiring (through the raging envy) to hear Tea’s remarkably quick rise to literary stardom. In case you hadn’t heard, she won the Orange Prize for The Tiger’s Wife. I put off reading this book until after some of the others I picked up at SWF for the sole reason that I am so used to these kinds of books being overrated, I feared disappointment (and then in response to the raging envy, a period of industry hopelessness). I couldn’t have been more deeply mistaken. Here, finally, was a book that was not only successful and acknowledged, but wonderful, too. The writing has a depth of wisdom it is nearly impossible to believe comes from anyone who isn’t a pensioner. And what’s better is that Tea’s talk of mysticism and the oral storytelling tradition of the Balkans has got me interested in researching all different kinds of storytelling; if its enriched her writing to such a degree, I’m sure to gain something useful from it, too. If I found one peccadillo in the Tiger’s Wife, it was that the ending seemed a bit of a fizzle-out from the wonderful suspense and action that had been building, but as I tell my students, if it’s written well enough, you can get away with it, and she does.
International Publishing Discussion
With representatives from Spain, France, and The Netherlands, here was a chance to find out what’s selling in the international markets. Not only that, but the truth about how it’s done. In my experience, your agent has a rights person, or your publisher does (if they’ve been awarded these rights), and you either get a call that one of your book’s has got the green-light to be licensed internationally, or you don’t. This hasn’t been too successful for me, since I’ve only had international editions of two of my six novels, so I was curious about the behind-the-scenes process. The way these international publishers explained it was they hire scouts internationally to find out not only what’s selling, but which of those they believe work for the tastes of their particular hometown market. Additionally, the publishers themselves are always on the lookout for something interesting. And then there are the relationships they’ve built up with rights agents through the years. According to these guys, the best agents are the ones who don’t only present their bestsellers, but the books that fit the criteria each international publisher looks to fill. These publishers promise this isn’t just about bestsellers, which I found refreshing. Now, to find one of these fantastic rights people…
Howard Jacobson, Booker Prize Speech
My god, I have never seen anything like this. A huge theatre—filled—with people wanting to hear an author talk about his writing and career. And who is it, tell me, that says books are dead? (Someone too lazy to figure out the right way to sell them, is my guess, but I digress.) Jacobson is charming, hysterical, and clever. I couldn’t wait to tear into my autographed copy of The Finkler Question. That Jacobson commands words to do exactly what he wants them to is no question (Finkler or otherwise), but I have to say this novel read like two separate books: the first, a slower, quieter, character study; the second, a suspenseful, fast-paced story of a man in a bit of trouble that only seems headed for a messy crescendo. Both are united by a wonderful sense of humor, a vivid rendering of scenes, and an exceptional sense of daring to say things that most would be afraid to voice. However, if this were written by one of my students, or by myself, I would suspect the slower beginning half was only that way as a result of Jacobson finding legs for these characters—working them out and seeing what they get into, a feat which finally hits its stride in part 2. What I would advise my students or myself, is to go back and mesh this part 1 with the part 2, which is by far, the superior portion of the book when it comes to reader enjoyment (which, let’s face it, should always be numero uno; if they don’t read it, there’s no point to anything else). I’m surprised this wasn’t done. But I also see there must be some sense of authority in a writer of Jacobson’s caliber saying a book is done, which begs not to be questioned. That being said, Jacobson is a wonder; I’ve left with a bit of a crush on him, a deep wish to have had the luck to be a student of his, and a hankering to read his earlier work, Kalooki Nights. Thank you, Mr Jacobson. Thank you SWF. Some event podcasts are available at the Sydney Writers Centre website.
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