March 5th, 2010
I think I sometimes fancy myself as the head of an international conglomerate, conquering the entire publishing world. I say “I think” because
deep down I know that this is not the name of my game, but every now and again I fall into a trap behaving like a huge CEO. Do you get my drift? Let me explain.
Over the last few days I once again got terribly worried about sales figures. Yes, I am in second print run with my first Peirene baby but still a few hundred copies away from breaking even. So I became obsessed with sales figures. Why isn’t the book selling more? Look at this or that book. It’s selling heaps although it’s totally crap. Anger about sales figures was starting to do my head in. Added to the loo roll stress of last week, life wasn’t looking great at Peirene Headquarters. I then topped it all by deciding to break into the American market NOW and started talking to a US distributor who indeed listened to me. I was terribly flattered and felt that perhaps I was after all the head of a great conglomerate. So I rang up a colleague who actually runs a bit of a big firm, at least compared to Peirene, and suggested we two together should take on the US market. Baldrick couldn’t have made a more cunning plan, my colleague most subtly hinted. Then she mentioned the costs and the work involved.
I put down the phone and went for a run on the Heath.
I can’t remember if I had any deep thoughts on the run. I doubt it as I felt terribly unfit (because of all my anger and stress I hadn’t gone for a run in a while) and was busy just keeping going. Back in front of my computer, I clicked on a lit blog I had come across two weeks ago. I had contacted the blogger to send him a review copy of Beside the Sea. From his profile I knew that he is a 24-year-old doctorate student at Oxford and sure enough his first reaction when I told him about the book was “I’m not convinced, a book about a mother killing her two children is my cup of tea” To his credit, however, he agreed to receive a copy. To my credit, I sent him the book, although I knew it was a shot into the dark. And then I clicked on his blog. And read a fantastic review (scroll down to March 2nd). The best of the lot so far. The blogger was totally honest, describing how, for the first two or three pages, he was taken aback, not liking it, but then had to completely change his mind. Reading this review made me incredibly happy. I pondered on that for a while. Then I realized why. Someone had given this text, a text I adore, a chance and the benefit of the doubt.
Had I been busy conquering the USA, I wouldn’t have had time for the initial email exchange with this blogger. And he probably would never have read the book and I would have never had the pleasure of reading his blog. And on the risk of sounding cheesy, I say it nevertheless. I realized then and there that happiness lies close to home and not in the USA.
P.S. But don’t get me wrong – my plan is still to make it onto the Elle cover.
Tags: Beside the Sea, stuck-in-a-book
Posted in Life Philosophy | 1 Comment »
February 27th, 2010
So it has worked. I mean, the dirty weekend story. It got me publicity AND sales. I am sure that’s what did the trick. On Tuesday I received a 
message from the distributor: “We are invoicing the last copies of Beside the Sea!” On Thursday morning The Independent congratulated Peirene “for choosing this gem of a novel”. And on Thursday afternoon my nymph and I featured on the Elle magazine cover – ok, nearly. But we did make it onto the Elle blog.
Actually it’s quite good we didn’t make the Elle cover. I don’t feel the part at all. I should be in seventh heaven, walking on air, head in the clouds. Also, I had that infamous break (this is the last time I mention it - I promise) only two weeks ago. So I should be happy. Instead I am exhausted, every task is a mountain, I hate my to-do list, which just seems to get longer and never shorter, and I am once again at the point where I will give it all up. This time for real. The juggling act between Peirene, house and family has anyway been heading for total collapse, so I might as well count me blessing while I am still sane and leave with my dignity intact. And since I can’t give up so easily house and family, it has to be Peirene. I am not making a drama out of nothing. I am dead serious.
Last night I went out to a reading. Before I left the house I had cooked for my children some food – to be precise, rice with pesto, since this was the only food I had handy. I had had no time to shop. So I left the house feeling guilty and a bad mother. After the reading I went out for a drink with some colleagues (the networking bit – has to be done) and arrived home when children and husband were fast asleep. In the bathroom I realized we had run out of loo paper. I went to the kitchen to get kitchen paper – that had gone too. So I decided – wise me – to make myself a cup of tea to calm down. And guess what, we had run out of milk too. I went to bed with a burning sense that I couldn’t cope any more and decided at four o’clock in the morning that something had to give: Peirene.
Of course giving up Peirene won’t make me happy. It probably won’t even guarantee an uninterrupted flow of loo paper in our household. And as for bad-mother-feeling and guilt ?– I had them before Peirene too so no change there either. I am therefore dead serious. I want to give up Peirene, but I won’t. I will however go now and make myself a nice cup of tea ( I bought loo paper and milk this morning – really no big deal and no one had come to harm in the meantime ) and sit on the sofa and read the reviews - just one more time – and pat myself on the shoulder. Well done me.
I am feeling better already, just talking about it. So perhaps, after the cup of tea, I might start plotting on how to get on to this Elle magazine cover after all.
Tags: Beside the Sea, Elle, The Independent
Posted in one-woman-show | No Comments »
February 20th, 2010
A dirty weekend – five days – Thursday to Monday that’s what I had. Yep! And I am a married woman. I spill the beans right here on the blog,
for family, friends and strangers to see. It has to be, I have no choice. It’s called a marketing strategy. Starlets sleep with directors, wanna-be writers with agents. And I bare my soul to you. For the sake of my books.
Last week’s book sales went really well – so well that “Beside the Sea” was heading for sell-out. And I ordered a reprint. This week sales have slowed down dramatically and in fact I now worry that I have ordered the reprint too early.
So, here comes my juicy story. On Thursday morning, at five o’clock in the morning, I took my suitcase and called a cab and went to the airport where I met my companion. We boarded a plane and flew to St Petersburg, and went to a hotel room and drank Russian Champagne and Siberian Vodka and ate red Caviar. We did some kissing too. Then on the last day we walked hand and hand across the frozen Neva and boarded a plane and flew back. At Heathrow I took the exit to passport control while he rode the escalator to Flight Connections…out of the country and out of sight. It still feels like a dream.
Did I promise too much? I hope I have your attention now and you won’t forget my little story or Peirene and her books ever again. Bad publicity is better than none, right? Or at least that’s what I am learning. Because a dirty weekend is not my only shady news. Peirene Title No 1 has a bad publicity story too. A reviewer in the FT didn’t like the book at all, and made that utterly clear in a tiny article. When I first saw it, it felt like being hit unexpectedly from behind and I wanted to ask, why did you need to publish this, if you didn’t like the book, couldn’t you just have ignored it? I am new small publisher, please, don’t immediately smash me to pieces. The interesting thing is, however, that I had almost as many people e-mailing me congratulations and wows and well dones responding to the FT article as for the wonderful Guardian review. Only yesterday I received a message: “Just read the review in the FT. Congratulation. Well done. Will now go and read the book!”
So I guess I prefer bad publicity rather than none. Nothing can be worse than total silence. That’s one way of looking at it. Another way: Perhaps most people understand that bad publicity contains many half truths. If a reviewer tears up a book this says more about the reviewer than the book. Furthermore readers will be intrigued why the text arouse such strong reactions in the first place.
And finally, to underline my point about bad publicity not telling the whole truth: I admit, the companion was in fact my husband. I know … lame joke and sorry to disappoint. We did however meet at the airport and parted there again too. My husband likes flying around. That at least is true!
Tags: Beside the Sea, Financial Times, The Guardian
Posted in Marketing Pains | No Comments »
February 8th, 2010
Peirene “is a class act”. Yes, it says so. In the papers, The Guardian actually. On Saturday. Review page 14, Paperback choice of the week – in 
case you missed it! However, being called a “class act” carries risk. A single indiscretion or unprofessional pronouncement and the reputation comes tumbling down.
But first let me ask you a question: What do you get when you put together the following four ambitious women: a serious French writer, a gifted Irish actress, an articulate English translator and an enthusiastic German publisher? Choose from the answers below:
a.) a public cat fight due to professional and personal envy and jealousy
b.) an outwardly composed picture but marred with dangerous undercurrent of competitiveness and individual over-control drive
c.) a class act difficult to beat
One could imagine any one of these three outcomes, right? Well, perhaps not a.) as for that the four women in question might just be too clever. But b.) is a contender. I guess we could agree on that. Especially, if for each one there is a lot at stake. The author is translated for the first time in English. The actress reads for the first time a text she is hoping to stage later on. The translator has never chaired such an event before and the publisher is putting on her first ever launch party.
A lot of “first times”, rich fertile ground for blame and angst. They have a show to perform, the guests will arrive at 7.30. At six o’clock they meet. Outside it might as well be thunder and lightening. They gather in the kitchen. They brew the tea and eat the chocolate. They compare notes, hair and heel, draw the demarcation lines. They trade some compliments but also clear the air. And when the guests arrive they have the witchcraft working.
P.S. In fact the guests were so bewitched, they ate everything this time – including my potato salad – the lot of it! I am now thinking of challenging them with some new stuff at the next Salon, perhaps Germanic Nudelsalat.
Tags: Adriana Hunter, Beside the Sea, Lisa Dwan, Nicholas Lezard, The Guardian, Veronique Olmi
Posted in Peirene's Literary Salons | 1 Comment »
January 30th, 2010
When I first read Beside the Sea I was bowled over. I did not go through calculations in my head. I did not ask the questions every reasonable 
publisher would do and perhaps ought to ask: is the subject something that most people would love to read about? Is there a target audience for the book? Who would it be? How can it be marketed? I didn’t. Because I knew whatever the odds, I wanted to publish this book. Why?
When I had my first child nearly 15 years ago, it took me three years to come to terms with being a mother. I spent a lot of the time feeling caged, trying to escape. It was only when I understood that motherhood is not a single state but an ongoing journey, that I was able to become the mother I wanted to be.
Motherhood, even nowadays, is a taboo subject, hidden behind a veil of sweet baby talk. We don’t acknowledge the extremely complicated emotions involved. We don’t admit that maternal love contains dark as well as light.
Beside the Sea tells the story of a mother who suffocates her two young children without ever having harmed them before. It provides a heart breaking insight into a mind of a woman who loved her children in a way that doesn’t match society’s view of blissful motherly love. Only the reader realizes the artificiality of the standards against which she is judged – and judges herself.
On Thursday reality seemed to have caught up with fiction. I saw the sad headline of a women who had walked into a police station the previous day claiming that she had killed – indeed suffocated – her two young children. Newspapers were quick to announce that her mental health was being checked, that her marriage has been extremely problematic. These facts calm us, but do they explain? And, more importantly, will they help to prevent events like these from happening again?
Like any good literary piece of work, Beside the Sea does not provide answers but it challenges us to rethink our perceptions in an area that is fundamental to our existence: the mother-child relationship. A must read, as far as I am concerned. And that’s why I published it.
Tags: Beside the Sea, Fiona Donnison
Posted in Publishing in the 21century | No Comments »
January 23rd, 2010
Parents are an embarrassment to their children. Always have been, always will be. And often poor parents need exert no
special effort. Merely exist, that’s enough. I remember when I was ten, walking passed our home with my school class. And there was my mother in the window - waving. I wanted the earth to open up underneath me – how did she dare to behave in such an appalling manner. I pretended I hadn’t see her.
Things have changed since then. Now I am the waving mother. But – and here comes my claim to fame – I don’t just wave with my bare hands – oh no – in one hand I hold the Peirene catalogue, in the other Peirene Title No 1. And I don’t just wave at my children – no way – I wave at anybody and everybody in the hope they will notice the fab products in my hands. Or at least that’s how I am perceived by my 10-year-old son.
On Thursday evening, as I was about to go out, to join other mums from his class for an annual dinner, he suddenly flung his arms around me. Don’t go, he pleaded. - Why, my darling, is something worrying you? - Do you have any catalogues in your bag? – Yes. - Mum, you don’t know how embarrassing it is that you always talk about Peirene and want everybody to read your books. And no one wants to. None of my friends at least. - That’s ok, they don’t have to, I calmed him down, gave him a kiss and went my way.
I am pleased he didn’t insist to look in my bag. Because it’s not just catalogues (at least 10) and business cards (at least 20) and newly printed Peirene Title No 1 bookmarks (30!) I am carrying around with me nowadays. I have truly become a walking talking Peirene advertising campaign – my son is right there. I now also carry the real book wherever I go, to show people, to let them touch it so they are encouraged to own one themselves. It’s my latest proud sales idea. As of this week, when I discovered that amazon has already started to sell the book. Last week’s Madam Serenity, or whatever was left of her, flew out of the window in a split second. The world needs to know, the first Peirene book is out there, I can’t afford to miss a single trick.
Did you give your catalogue to anybody last night? my son asked me the next morning. - Yes. - And? Did they mind? - No, in fact I think they were delighted. Two of the mums belong to reading groups and they are keen now to read Beside the Sea in their group.
Of course I am dying to know if they already have ordered their books from amazon. I still can’t totally believe that anyone will. I’ve ordered one myself this morning. Just to see if it actually arrives. I won’t tell my children though. I might as well spare them that embarrassment.
Tags: amazon, Beside the Sea, Peirene Press
Posted in Setting up Business | No Comments »
January 15th, 2010
I have become what I’ve always wanted to be, Madam Serenity. Worries, hardship, strife are things of the past. Serenity has finally descended
upon me. Precisely at 4.49 pm two days ago, when with a push of the button I released Peirene Title No 1 to the bookshops and the wide world.
I knew this moment would come but I didn’t realize it would be so soon, until I received an email from Bill, the Distributor Man. “When do you want us to release your first title, Meike?” I emailed him straight back, informing him graciously – because after all how could he forget the world-changing date - that publication is not until 4th of February. Yes, he replied, he therefore advises me strongly to release the book now. The bookshops need to receive it in good time. But, but but …, my anxiety level was raising as I send back my response, doesn’t that mean some bookshops will start selling it early, ignoring the date I have carved in stone all those months ago. Some surely will, he instructed me patiently, but that’s absolutely normal and unavoidable. I then sent an email to a trusted colleague requesting approval for what I was about to do. Is that the way it is done in publishing land? I needed reassurance. Absolutely, he confirmed, release date of the book is 3 to 4 weeks prior to sale’s date.
So for a moment I sat very still, reflecting on the magnitude of the deed. Then I pushed the button. Ok, lets do it. So Peirene is now released, unleashed upon the wide big world. And surely the world will never be the same again.
Afterwards that day I continued work as normal and it wasn’t until the following morning that I realized something had changed inside me. Somehow nothing seemed urgent any longer. I was – I am – utterly calm. Serene. My job done, Peirene out there, perhaps it’ll sell, perhaps it won’t, the outcome shrouded in utter mystery. All I can do now is wait and observe. I made myself tea and lit a few candles. Meet the new me.
PS Actually, let’s hope I will be through with this new-me business quickly. Because otherwise Peirene Title No 2 will never see the light of day. And that, trust me, would be a pity.
Tags: Beside the Sea
Posted in one-woman-show | 1 Comment »
January 8th, 2010
Schools are closed, buses aren’t running, the country will soon be out of gas and grit. Everything has grind to a holt. 
Except for Peirene and I. Back from the Christmas break bang on time Monday morning 9am. Refreshed, rejuvenated, full of beans for 2010. Our launch year! Peirene Title No 1 “Beside the Sea” will be published on 4th of February, the Catalan modern classic “Stone in a Landslide” comes in April, followed by the Germanic 120-page-long sentence that reads like a thriller “Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman” in June. I am worried (“Will they sell?”), I am excited (“Wow, they will actually come out”) and I can’t wait (“Will I earn a penny or two – or not?”).
The vibes are good, not only up here in the North but also down South. I received a phone call on Tuesday from Mark, the owner of Kew Bookshop. My sales rep had given him Beside the Sea before Christmas. He read it and told me how impressed he was, with the novel (he compared it to Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road”), the cover, the personal statement at the beginning of the book, the whole Peirene idea. His compliments warmed my heart and so no surprise, I’m not going to fuss about the temperature outside.
Yep, of course I came back with a couple of beautiful lovely New Year’s resolutions. One actually. But it is – will be – live changing. Over the Christmas break I looked long and deep into my darling little nymph’s eyes. I love you dearly, I told her, I can’t live without you but… you are my job and not my life. Ordnung muss sein. I was tough with her but fair. I told her that I will care and nurture her during the day but at night she must sleep. However much she screams I will no longer return after bedtime. Because – after all – there is more to my life.
Heidegger for example. I’ve been neglecting him hugely, he stood out in the cold for months. But that’s all changed now. I’ve taken him back into the warmth, dusted the snow off his covers and dried his socks.
Happy New Year!
Tags: Beside the Sea, Heidegger, Kew Bookshop, Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman, Stone in a Landslide
Posted in Life Philosophy | 2 Comments »
December 19th, 2009
Over the last months Peirene has started to generate an increasing amount of interest. The guest list for the salon is growing and journalists 
have started to reply to my emails. But even I hadn’t been aware of the real magnitude of the interest. Until Tuesday morning, when I got up as usual around 6.15. Lights were on in the office, lights were on in the kitchen, the living room, the downstairs loo. For a moment I was puzzled. I had worked late on Monday evening, until 1.30. Had I been so tired and forgot to turn off all the lights? Then my eyes fell on a open folder on the kitchen counter. It was the Bank and Tax Peirene file, which I usually keep in the study. A draft led me into the front room. And I discovered the open window. For a moment I stood still, then I panicked. I ran upstairs, into the rooms of the children. Both were soundly asleep. I rushed downstairs again, into every room and out again, trying to hold my sense of shock. We had been burgled! But it was a strange burglary. Nothing seemed to have been messed with, except that Peirene Bank folder, and my mobile phone was gone.
I called the police, barred my phone, rang up the banks and changed passwords. “But why did they look at the Peirene Bank and Tax folder?”, I asked the police. “It says BANK in big letters on the spine. You’re announcing to the world where your money is.” A thought suddenly crossed my mind and made me smile for the first time that morning: Perhaps these poor burglars thought they had hit the jack pot? Perhaps they even knew I was running a business? Perhaps they checked out the Peirene website, the books, took one good look at all this and thought wow, we are going to rob a multi million dollar company? I know my little nymph looks good. I am very proud of her. But that stunning and loaded with money?
The burglars’ feeling of disappointment must have been huge. I wish I could say my Peirene account is sporting big, beautiful round figures.
Not yet, I am counting on all of you to make that happen next year.
Have a lovely Christmas, hopefully without burglaries.
Tags: Accounts
Posted in money money money | No Comments »
December 11th, 2009
And another fab weekend! Yep, my weekends are just a continuous stream of fabness. Turn green with envy – I don’t mind. My weeks might 
be hard work. But my weekends? Pure pleasure – first spreadsheet delight, now salon galore! I’m not joking. It was really nice. And it’s only now, four days after the event, that I really can grasp what a success it was. It was the first ever totally sold out salon. I managed to fit 40 people into my study/office where we hold the reading. Truth to be told it wasn’t an exercise in physical comfort. 40 adults in a front room sat on little primary school chairs. I don’t think people minded too much – or at least no one has sued me yet for bodily harm. Instead the audience felt intellectually, creatively and emotionally uplifted by the three stars at the front, Matthias Politycki, Rosie Goldsmith and Anthea Bell. The Dream Team. Author, Journalist, Translator. As they made the audience laugh AND cry and laugh again, I suddenly felt incredibly lucky, that three such successful people were sitting in my literary salon.
So Dream Team went down well, the wine went down well – extremely well! – the cheese went down well, the cake went down well ( as you might remember I’ve given up on the strawberries) BUT the potato salad! The potato salad didn’t go down well. At the end of the evening I had 3.5 kilos remaining. My heart sank when I saw it. I knew something had to go badly wrong – and this time it was the potatoes. It took a bit of mental effort to remind myself that I had initially made 7 kilos of it. My guests therefore had dutifully eaten their staple food, hadn’t’ they? I calmed down and reassured myself that the salad had indeed been cherished. I also realized that I had sorted out our family dinners for the entire following week. Until …. my fourteen year old appeared on the scene. “I hate potato salad!,” was the statement. “Since when?” I asked back. “Since last week.” We managed to strike a deal. We had potato salad for dinner on Monday and Wednesday. Tuesday and tonight I will eat it alone. I think then I, too, will have finally reached my limit. Until the next salon.
Tags: Anthea Bell, Matthias Politycki, Rosie Goldsmith
Posted in Peirene's Literary Salons | 2 Comments »
