People say that nothing is like your first love. I would agree. I can tell you — without a moment’s hesitation — that small press literary publishing was a first love of my life, my professional life. The story goes something like this …
I started volunteering and then working in publishing at Anvil Press in Vancouver when I was in my twenties. At some point, somewhere between opening the mail (mostly unsolicited manuscripts), writing grant proposals (BC Arts Council and Canada Council for the Arts) and organising book launches (always an interesting and feisty bunch), I fell in love with small press literary publishing.
Literary publishing, followed by magazine publishing and scholarly journal publishing, sustained me (or rather, we sustained each other) for almost 15 years. Those formative years of my professional life set something in stone: I learned what it was like to work with people on something that we cared about and enjoyed. There’s no coming back from that. It’s something I’ve looked for in my professional life ever since and in most cases, found it, including where my work life is now (more on that in another post, perhaps).
The photo above, I took standing in front of the storefront operated by the small press publisher, Drawn & Quarterly, in Montréal. To this day, every time I walk by an independent bookstore (where the small press titles are likely to be found), it’s as though a friend is reaching out to take my hand and say, “Hey, good to see you, stay for awhile.” I often do.
F. Scott Fitzgerald is quoted as writing: “There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.” He was talking about romance. But the same can be said about so many things in every day life. All kinds things. All kinds of love. All kinds of days. Never the same one twice.
a few words ... from Montréal 