• In honor of the opening of the Swedish movie version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, BBC Magazine talks to people who wonder if Stieg Larsson really wrote the books.
• In celebration of spring, take this spring has sprung literary quiz.
• Movie news for The Help, I like the loyalty, hope it lasts.
• Love this ode to the bookstore by Mark Sanborn, especially the shout out to Tattered Cover.

Bookstores serve another, more subtle purpose: they tell us what our fellow human beings are currently interested in or concerned about. Bookstores are a billboard of our preoccupations. Consequently, I make it a point to read the bestsellers lists to identify the zeitgeist of our times. And it is often alarming to consider what people are spending their time reading about.

• Just in case you missed these pictures, check out Ikea creating the world’s longest outdoor bookcase on Bondi Beach.

We all need to refresh our thinking from time-to-time:

There’s an existentialist riddle that goes something like: “A man owns a boat for many years and every time a plank rots or breaks, he replaces it with a new one.  If he eventually replaces every single plank on the boat with a different one, does he still own the same boat he started out with or a different boat?”

I think of this riddle all the time when I’m rewriting (so much so that I may have mentioned it in an earlier post).

I’m a note-taker.  By which I mean that if an editor I respect (and so far I’ve respected all my fiction editors) asks me to change something in a manuscript, I’ll change it.  So far, this has worked for me, and why shouldn’t it?  Editors want to sell books as much as authors do.  Maybe even more so.  So I trust them to want to want to make the product better.

Usually this means tweaking a plot point or two, cutting the fat (there’s always fat when I write), even getting rid of a character or adding one in.

And sometimes it means starting at page one and rewriting almost everything until I get to the very last page, slashing and adding and changing and renewing.

I’m in the middle of that kind of rewrite at the moment and it’s not easy (it’s also why I didn’t post anything last week: Kim took pity on me, bless her heart).  It’s the kind of process that can keep you up at night with the excitement of new ideas and new problems to solve: it’s like a puzzle, trying to make the new pieces fit with the old ones (hammering in those planks).  (It’s also the kind of process that can make you break down in tears if you’re feeling a bit hormonal but that’s another story or at least the subject of a very different post).  It’s also the kind of process that allows you to humble your children when they start complaining about having to edit a two-page paper as per a teacher’s demands.   “Oh, please,” you can say, “I have to rewrite a three-hundred page manuscript!”  They may not learn to embrace editing but they do learn not to complain about it so much.

Anyway, the point is, this massive rewrite got me thinking about what a huge process it is to edit a novel.  And also to think about what constitutes a “draft” and what’s a separate new book (or boat) in its own right.

When I was a teenager and reading everything D.H. Lawrence had ever written, Penguin published not only all his known works–major and minor–but also something called John Thomas and Lady Jane which turned out to be an earlier draft of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. (An even earlier draft called The First Lady Chatterley has also appeared in print.)  I haven’t read any version of LCL in decades but I remember at the time being vaguely annoyed that something I had spent money on thinking it was a book I hadn’t yet read by a favorite author was, in fact, simply an earlier version of one I already owned and had already read–a similar emotion to finding out that Agatha’s Christie And Then There Were None was simply the politically correctly titled reprint of Ten Little Indians.

The point is, I guess, that as drastically as I may change things from a first draft to a final one, I still consider the first draft only a stepping-stone to the final one and not a book in its own right.  The same boat, not a different one.  You write multiple drafts to improve something and even though you invariably lose some things you love, (“Kill your babies” as some famous author once advised–although which famous author seems to vary according to who’s quoting the line), you emerge with something tighter, smarter, more what it should be.  So who wants to see the mushy middle product of that?

I don’t think D.H.Lawrence was around when those earlier drafts of LCL were published, but John Fowles was around–and the instigator–of a revised edition of his novel The Magus.  Non-fiction writers revise and update their books all the time.  In fact, it was the request that we do an updated edition of Overcoming Autism that led to my co-author’s and my writing a whole new book instead.  But it’s pretty rare in the fiction world for an author to do more than change a word or two–and of course add a new foreword–to a novel before a reprint. Fowles did it though and I’m guessing, if he’s anything like me, that once he had the new version out in print, he just wanted the old one to disappear.

As far as I’m concerned, a first draft is like a younger stage of your life: it leads to what’s there now–and is a large part of why it is what it is–but it’s also completely replaced by the newer version and–except for some ghostly traces–doesn’t exist in its own right anymore.  Move on, move out, move along.

But save the early draft for your future biographers.  :)

Amazon is a bully. Another instance of “Amazon Fail” occurred last weekend when Amazon pulled all Macmillan books off of it’s shelves.  Customers could no longer buy the books in paper or via the Kindle, in fact in some instances purchased e-books were pulled from Kindles (wouldn’t that be a bummer if you were at a juicy part).  It was all about pricing.  Charlie’s Diary has a great review of what happened and the role Amazon thinks it plays in the publishing process vs. the role the publishers think it should play.

Of course, as we’ve been saying for 18 months, it’s vital to have independent bookstores who don’t cut off publishers over pricing or for any other incompetent or nefarious reason.  Independent booksellers provide a necessary alternative to the dominance of Amazon or other big box stores.

I love this quote from today’s Shelf Awareness:

“And special thanks and a show of support to the Macmillan companies in the face of bullying tactics by one of our largest competitors.”–Michael Tucker, head of Books Inc. and president of the American Booksellers Association, speaking yesterday at the opening of the Winter Institute in San Jose, Calif. His comment was interrupted by a standing ovation from the 500 independent booksellers in attendance.

If You Are the Mother of a Teen, Bookmark this Post Bilgungsroman posted a booklist of tough issues for teens.  From eating disorders to drugs to religion to sex, I couldn’t think of one that isn’t covered.  Every book is rated using a movie scale (G, PG, etc) and starred for quality.  The books seem to range for offering awareness of an issue to heavy duty reality situations.  This list is a gift.

This is what I’m getting Claire for her Birthday, but don’t tell her.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles The Millions asked its readers for recommendations on what to read/listen to for planes, trains, automobiles.  Here are mine:

• Planes – I need a plot-driven, fast-paced novel that distracts me from thinking “I’m going to die, I’m going to die.”  A few of the recommendations on The Millions list were from nervous flyers, but I could tell from the choices that they are novice chickens.  I’ve made a plane let me off on the tarmac, in a foreign country – I’m serious when it comes to fear.  My choice:  Dan Brown, Diana Gabaldon, Stephanie Meyer, names you’ll rarely see me talking about, but one of those books and some wine and I’m good to go.
• Trains – anything, who ever died on a train, unless you live in LA.  Uh oh, I live in LA.
• Automobiles – I love listening to Garrison Keillor audio books/collections and David Sedaris audio books/collections.  We are also huge fans and customers of The Teaching Company courses, especially anything by Robert Greenberg.

Short Story Collections Having just finished reading Both Ways is the Only Way I Want It (I love the title, it may be a new life philosophy) by Maile Meloy, it’s hard to imagine another collection that will match it.  However, Book Fox lists the collections coming out this year that will try to give Maile a run for her money.

Never Wanting to Pass Up a Chance to Embarrass Claire She is speaking at the Pasadena Literary Festival on Saturday, there may be a few tickets left.  It will be a wonderful event, don’t let the rain stop you from attending.

Designed by Susan Newman

GIVEAWAY OF AL GORE’S NEW BOOK AND FROM GREEN TO GOLD DESCRIBED IN THE LAST PARAGRAPH!

We’re joining Eco-Libris and 99 other book bloggers in reviewing 100 books that were published in an eco-friendly manner.  Eco-Libris organized this event (see our post about Eco-Libris and Kim’s interview on their blog) to highlight both the need for and availability of books printed on recycled paper or FSC-certified paper.  “Although there’s so much hype around e-books, books printed on paper dominate the book market, and we want them to be as environmentally sound as possible ,” explains Raz Godelnik, co-founder and CEO of Eco-Libris. “Very few books are currently printed responsibly and we hope this initiative will bring more exposure to “green” books. Through this campaign we want to encourage publishers to get greener and readers to take the environment into consideration when purchasing books.”

We are so happy to join today’s blogging event.  Since I am trying to read more poetry, I decided to chose From Green to Gold by Harold Enrico as our review book.  This poetry collection is not only printed in a green manner, the poems themselves evoke an awareness of the beauty of nature and life.   I experienced a sense of melancholy and an awareness of the beauty of every moment as I read the poems.  

The theme of the time passing repeatedly occurs:  in the appropriately named “Time,” time is ”the mongrel bitch, limping along on three legs . . . She holds a bleeding forepaw tightly against her chest and whimpers from time to time.”   Even more poignant for me was “Marston-Bigot, Somerset” which describes the antics of WWII soldiers on New Years Eve at a temporary encampment juxtaposed with the animals (badger, mole) that will continually be present in an ongoing cycle of life.  

Several poems refer to aging, another aspect of time.  My favorite is ”Kontrapunkt” with the repeating lines “I crave another body.  This one will never do.”  References to autumn and winter as stand ins for aging abound in the new poems (some are selected from previous collections).  One of my favorites, “Midsummer Past,” felt like a description of a reprieve in the midst of life, while ”Winter” with “Love has lost its luster.  The rose will not bloom again this year” harkened to an end of life period.

The bird images struck me.  I know certain types of birds have representative meanings, but I don’t know what they are and I don’t feel like I lost anything in the poem by my ignorance.  It seemed clear that that the hawk repeatedly represented death or an ending.  I especially enjoyed “Taymuusya, Rock Wren” which starts with a perky wren who sings all morning long “until I am sick of hearing it.  The same old tune and worn-out words.”  A hawk threatens, then a snake, and the perky bird notices.  The poet asks

What did you hear?
The dry sound of rattling on the rocks,
a sound beyond sound,
it chilled  me to the bones.

Then nothing.  No more sound,
not even beyond sound.
Beyond stillness.
Only the imperceptible hiss
of the rising wind
as the snake slivered off.

I loved this poem.  I enjoyed the wonderment of nature combined with the confession that the bird song we’re supposed to love can be annoying.  It intrigues me that I”m not sure if the poet wanted the bird to survive or not.

From Green to Goldis a collection of poems that prompted images of beauty and caused me to think about nature, art, war and aging.  It’s eco-friendly printing only lives out the underlying message of the collection, that our world and lives are wondrous.

In honor of the Green Books Campaign, we’re giving away a copy of From Green to Gold by Harold Enrico AND a copy of Our Choice by Al Gore, his latest thoughts on helping our environment.  To qualify to win either book, leave a comment with what you think is the easiest thing to do to lessen your carbon footprint.  We’ll decide both winners using random.org on Saturday, November 14th.

That being said, I have had enough experiences in the last year (i.e. accompanying my daughter to an American Idol concert) where I thought ‘if I had an iPhone, I would be reading a book on it right now.’  The moment Verizon and Apple reach a deal (please, please soon), I’ll be buying an iPhone and guess what my first app will be?

My thoughts on the Kindle

Years ago, for Christmas, my husband gave me a stack of books he chose with a book store clerk after describing me to her.  I haven’t read them all, but every time I see one on the bookshelf, I feel loved.  For my birthday, a girlfriend gave me a book I wanted but hadn’t told her about, and I felt known. (FYI, this is Claire.)  For my 40^th birthday I asked all of my friends to give me a book that was meaningful to them, as a way to learn about them.  Last Christmas, as my kids ran out to see what Santa delivered, my daughter called over her shoulder, “you have a stack of books Mommy!”  But Santa had brought those books for my mother, and when I realized that, I was disappointed.  Instead of books my husband bought me the Kindle, reasoning there was no reason to buy me any real books when I could download them. 

At that moment, I didn’t feel known. 

A month before Christmas, our copy of Newsweekarrived with Jeff Bezos on the cover announcing the Kindle, a small computer book reader.  As I looked at that cover I felt uneasy, and that night my husband read the article and handed it to me as he rolled over to sleep.  “You have to read this,” he said, “you’ll love it.”  I looked at the magazine curled up in the valley of the comforter between our two bodies and felt a rush of anxiety.  I silently picked it up between my forefinger and my thumb, lifting it as if it were vile, lowered it onto my nightstand, and returned to reading my book, made of paper. 

Every day I looked at the nightstand where the magazine lay open to the Kindle article and left it there, I couldn’t touch it.  For me books are not merely inanimate objects.  I love the physicality of books, knowing their length by their heft, the visual of their covers and simply holding them is part of the joy of reading for me.  I stared at the magazine article, questions roiling.  Was I archaic because I didn’t want to give up that physical relationship with books I’ve always had?  In ten years would my living room with all its bookshelves be reminiscent of a bygone era?  These book-filled shelves reflect me, but would that reflection become a picture of someone outdated, someone who refused to give up the horse and buggy when the car came along only because I loved my horse?  Awhile back my grandparents decided they were too old for computers and they ended their lives never understanding technology, unwilling even to give it a try.  Was my reaction to the Kindle the same kind of thing?  Was I too old at only 45 for the current culture?

I tried comforting myself with the thought that maybe the Kindle might not catch on, but I think I’m wrong about that.   While a recent Zogby poll showed that 82% of readers prefer books to reading technology, I’ve seen enough people watching movies on tiny iPods screens to believe the Kindle is here to stay.  I remember when CDs arrived in the 1980s and an older friend declared they would never replace albums.  I wonder if he’s found an antique dealer to offload his stacks of LPs.

The Kindle is the size of a thin hardback book, the computer screen approximately the size of book page, rimmed in plain white, a button along the right side to change pages and buttons on the left to turn a page forward or backward.  A few control buttons run unobtrusively along the bottom.  The Kindle is well designed; it does resemble a book. 

Jeff Bezos describes the Kindle as conceived to “out-book-the-book.”  The experience is meant to mimic reading a book, but better.  It has great features, the equivalent of an eight-pound dictionary accessible by clicking a word, so the necessity of attempting to decipher meaning from context will soon be obsolete.  Readers can write margin notes that are saved on a server and easily accessed.  The biggest plus is books can be downloaded within minutes from anywhere.  I had to admit that not having to haul several books along when I travel had its appeal.

So I decided I would try to be open minded.  A testament to this commitment is that I actually read the instructions.  I operate under the rule that if I can’t figure out how to work something by looking at it, then I’ll remain ignorant.  But this time, I studied the entire introductory program and even experimented with looking up words in a text, marking text and downloading a book. The process was simple.

The first attraction was a subscription to The New York Times.  On the Kindle this subscription is cheaper, less than half the cost of a regular subscription, far better for the environment, and my Kindle could receive the paper wherever I am, even when I’m away from home.  I am usually the only person in my family who reads The Times, so not being able to divide the paper among the family isn’t a problem.

After the second day, I hated it.   For one more week, I carried the Kindle around; it was light, fit in my purse and I could pull it out and read it without smearing black ink all over my fingers.  Still, without even discussing the crossword puzzle problems, it didn’t work for me–the graphics were difficult to understand; I’m uncomfortable reading an article if I can’t tell how long it is by looking at it; and, I couldn’t wander through the surrounding articles to see what I might want to read next.  I cancelled the subscription.

It took five attempts to order a book I wanted that Amazon offered as a Kindle option.  Bezos’s vision is that someday every book ever printed in any language will be available via the Kindle, but now only about 145,000 are accessible.  I started to read The Nineby Jeffery Toobin.  This was better than reading the newspaper, but the experience felt superficial.  I think differently when I hold a book–more slowly, more deeply.  I am contemplative with a book in my hands, that’s part of what I love about reading.  Looking at a screen leads me towards snappy and quick thoughts easily conjured and quickly lost which describes how I already spend most of my hectic days.  I made my way through the first two chapters and put it down.  Toobin deserved better from me.

I considered trying a fun beach read novel to match the level of thinking the screen arouses, but when I read those books, I want to be relaxing in the bathtub or sunbathing pool or beach side, and none of those environments are conducive to computer screens.  Interacting with technology and water just conjures up electrocution, not relaxing.  Plus, with beach reads, I like to jump ahead 50 pages and read a few paragraphs, then 100 pages and read a few more before jumping back to where I was; that it helps me stop the headlong rush to the end.  With a Kindle I had to electronically mark where I was before jumping around, and beach reads aren’t for electronically marking, they’re for squashing and squishing.

So I gave up.  Maybe I’m the crotchety old woman who clogs the road with her horse and buggy because she won’t drive a car, and maybe my home will be antiquated in the near future.  This may be the start of a mid-life crisis, and maybe instead of buying a red sports car, I’ll buy a bookstore.  For the first time I’m worried that the speed of change will pass me by.  I could go to therapy, but instead I think I’ll just get lost in a good book, one whose pages I can feel between my fingers.

Ms. Mantel had stiff competition, reviewers with access to all of the short-listed books (wish that had been me) are excited about them:

A.S. Byatt’s The Children’s Book is published in the United States today.

Summertime by J.M. Coetzee will be available on Christmas Eve (heads up to my husband, hit the bookstore on the 24th).

Adam Foulds’ The Quickening Maze was published last month, so pick it up with Byatt’s book.

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel won’t be released until October 13th, guess where I’ll be next Tuesday?

The Glass Room by Simon Mawer does not appear to have a US publishing date but is available from UK booksellers.

Sarah Waters’ The Little Stranger (nominated twice before, she is in danger of becoming the Susan Lucci of the Man Booker Prize) is available.

Nominees for the prize must be a novel released in the previous year, written in English, by a citizen of the Commonwealth of Nations, or the Republic of Ireland or Zimbabwe.  Publishers contribute potential nominees and are limited to two books in addition to the work of a former winner or the work of someone who was short-listed in the last five years.  The prize prides itself on its judges panel–a new group chosen each year that includes a literary critic, an academic, a literary editor, a novelist and a “major figure.”  I think the major figure this year was a broadcaster, I assume the equivalent of our Charlie Gibson.  The short-list nominees win 2,500 pounds and Ms. Mantel takes home 50,000 pounds (that’s $79, 615 in dollar-speak) plus watches her sales shoot up worldwide (when Wolf Hall is  finally published worldwide).

This prize catches my attention.  While not stellar 100% of the time, I’m confident that the winners and the short-list nominees are great reads.  Some of my favorite books are winners of the Man Booker Prize:  Disgrace,by J.M. Coetzee; Midnight’s Children,by Salman Rushdie; The Ghost Road, by Pat Barker; The English Patient,by Michael Ondaatje; The Sea, The Sea, by Iris Murdoch.   After reading Wolf Hall, I’ll see if I add it to my favorite Bookers.

There has been endless discussion on how independent booksellers should market the book since the large discounts given by Amazon and the big box stores can’t be matched.  One solution is to pair it with other suggested books, a take off on Amazon’s “if you like The Lost Symbol then you’ll like this book also.”  Booksellers were pros at this long before Amazon arrived on the scene and they are suggesting choice second books via Twitter using #buy+brown.  Next Chapter Bookshop in Milwaukee will give customers a free copy of The Lost Symbol if they purchase $100 worth of books in one transaction.  I would love that deal, I could make a dent on my Christmas list. 

My favorite Dan Brown hype is a video by Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group showing what it takes to print 5 million copies of a book and keep the plot a secret.  Kudos to them for pulling it off!

One of the many reasons I never want real, live, actual bookstores to disappear from our lives is because browsing through books is one of life’s most enjoyable activities.  Even if my night table is stacked to the ceiling with books I should be reading, I can waste hours in a nice little bookstore, glancing through tables of books the owners specifically chose to display, picking up the ones whose covers or titles pique my interest, reading the first page or two . . . and checking to see what kind of blurbs it got. 

I admit with only a certain amount of shame that I’m likelier to check out a book that someone has called “sexy” or “fun” or “fast-moving” on the cover and a little less likely to pick up one that’s described as “moving,” or “thoughtful,” or “emotionally devastating.”  But that’s just me.

I’ll also make a point of scrutinizing books that boast a blurb from an author I already know and love.  If Robin Hobb puts her stamp of approval on a fantasy novel by an unknown author, I may well take give that new author a try.  Same with graphic novels and Alan Moore.  And if Jane Austen were around to recommend modern women’s fiction, I’d be grabbing at anything she said was worth reading.

The funny thing is, I know better than to trust blurbs.  Because . . . you know . . . I write them.

Back in the days before TMZ and Perez Hilton, Spy Magazine was the ruler of snark.  Among their regular columns was something called “Logrolling in our time” which called attention to the authors who traded favor for favor and blurbed one another’s books.  

I didn’t actually know what the term “logrolling” meant in this context, until my sister who actually wrote for Spy explained it.  I also looked it up on Wikipedia and it can actually refer to any quid pro quo exchange of favors, but most often does refer to authors who will trade blurb for blurb.

That’s not to say that every time you read a positive blurb on the cover of a book it means that its author is returning a favor or expecting a future one.  No, sometimes the blurber is simply the author’s friend.  Or an acquaintance.  Or they share an editor in common or an agent.  Or they have editors or agents who are friends with each other.  Or their first cousins are married to each other.  Or they went to the same writing program.  Or one of them taught the other at a writing program.  Or . . . well, you get the idea.

I’m being overly cynical, of course.   There are blurbs that are genuinely from the heart.   And most reputable authors won’t put their name on something they truly despise.  But you do have to remember that somehow that manuscript got to that well-known (or moderately known) author and that he or she was willing to give up a fair amount of time to read someone else’s manuscript and write something concise and glowing about it.  That’s a big favor.  Odds are good you need a connection to even get to the place where you can ask for that favor.

Obviously, the bigger the author, the truer that is.   I do remember someone once gushing about a very well-known women’s fiction writer: “I didn’t know her but I emailed her and asked her for a blurb and she said yes!  She’s the nicest person in the world.”  That made an impression because that kind of thing is so rare.  Usually the big ones let it be known that they simply don’t have time to read just any book that comes along.   In general, you need an “in” with the big names.

So. given that the majority of blurbs are given by people who have some prior connection to the author, how much can you trust them?  The answer is somewhat.

Remember how I said above that I look for certain words in a blurb?  That works regardless of whose name is below the writing.    If you like a “sexy, fun read,” and you see those words on the cover of a book, it doesn’t matter if Helen Fielding or Joe Schmoe wrote the blurb: odds are good the book will deliver something in that vein.  (No guarantees of quality, of course, just intention.)  I still recommend reading the first couple of pages, but if something calls out to you when you’re looking at a table of books, you might as well answer the call.

Besides, as my nephew once said, “What do you mean, don’t judge a book by its cover?  How else are you going to judge it?”

I fell in love with The Elegance of the Hedgehog on the first page after I looked up “eructaton” (burp or fart):  “There he stood, the most recent eructation of the ruling corporate elite–a class that reproduces itself solely by means of virtuous and proper hiccups.”  The book is told through the voice of Renee, the concierge of  a fashionable Paris apartment building (the quote is her description of a tenant), and Paloma, the 12 year old daughter of one of the tenants.  Both hide their intelligence and lead largely solitary lives, but discover one another when a new tenant, Ozu, arrives. 

Character development rather than plot moves the book forward.  Before Ozu arrives, Renee and Paloma judge their world quite harshly.  Both assume most people are dumb, Renee is bitter about the class structure that she works overtime to keep in place and Paloma finds life useless.  Ozu, as the new person in the building and a cultural outsider, sees them clearly for who they are.  Their relationship with him and each other gives them the security and space to stop hiding, both physically and figuratively.

Muriel Barbery’s only private west coast appearance will be at a National Endowment for the Arts benefit sponsored by Literary Affairs on Saturday, April 25th, the tickets are quite reasonable.  Book Soup will be donating 10% of its sales at the event to the NEA.  I’ll be there, let me know if you’re coming also.

Muriel Barbery weaves together threads of philosophy (I prefer reading about philosophy than actually reading it), the meaning of Art, literature (now I want to read Proust), music (a completely unique Mozart “Requiem” experience), film, Japanese culture, and descriptions of food that will make you salivate.  The Elegance of the Hedgehog requires thought from the reader, this isn’t a breezy read by the pool.  But, the pay off is well worth the effort.  In fact, I can honestly say that this is the best book I’ve read in three years and probably makes my top ten.

Hedgehog not only caused readers to fall in love with Renee, Ozu, Paloma and Ms. Barbery, but for the first time in my experience, I heard people talk about looking  for other books from Europa Editions, the publisher.  A girlfriend’s Facebook status update said “I loved The Elegance of the Hedgehog, now I’m going to look for other Europa books.”  Who ever read Updike and said “now I want to check out Ballentine Book’s catalogue?”  Europa Editions is a small publisher owned by an Italian couple, Sandro Ferri and Sandra Ozzola Ferri, who founded Edizioni E/O, a publishing house in Rome that brings translated works to Italy.  Europa’s premise is to bring well-translated international books to the United States.  They pick the best books, find excellent translators (read Hedgehog with a dictionary by your side, it’s full of wonderful obscure words), and market through a combination of  independent booksellers, word of mouth and hand-selling.  The New York Times reported that this year Europa turned a modest profit, quite an accomplishment for 2008. Their biggest hit thus far is Hedgehog, which the Times said sold over 71,000 copies.  I looked at their catalogue and noticed Old Filth by Jane Gardam, another book that I loved.  Europa’s editorial discernment provides booksellers and readers with the assurance that the book is worth the time spent reading it.  The distinctive look of their books–all paperbacks with a clean cover design, front and back flaps, and their distinctive bird insignia–make them easy to find. 

My next Europa book is Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorioby Amara Lakhous, but I’ve realized that I need to read more translated books by living authors.  I would love recommendations, please provide some in the comments.