Opinion

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.

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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.

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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 ...

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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.

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"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.

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We are all quite familiar with the Malaysian malaise -- from electric hibiscus (is that a nice name for a rock and roll band, or what?) and steel bunga mangga to instant nirvana and grotesquely fake Rococo furniture. (Jonathan Kent called this a-laugh-a-minute country. Another American couple thought we were simply bizarre.)

I was telling Anna that if I could invent a pill for writers -- you know like blue ones for prose, or pink for poetry, and so on -- I would be rich in no time. "No effort required, simply take one or two in the morning and two before retiring at night, and become a writer in no time, and claim your very own fifteen minutes of fame. For the Nobel Prize increase dosage to eight a day, but continuous usage may be required for at least six weeks. Maximum dosage: twelve a day. Proven side effects include stark raving madness, but that will qualify you to become a member of parliament." And while we are at it we could work on a pill for our footballers. "No training required. Take two in the morning and two at night for an Olympic medal. Guaranteed." Actually, I can think of pills for almost anything, though we probably have to beware of imitations. We are Malaysians after all. (I have absolutely no idea how we can possibly come up with a pill to cure our government officials of that dreaded electric hibiscus disease, though.)

You all have heard this before from this crabby uncle -- why are Malaysian's living overseas able to achieve so much more than those at home, be they writers or dancers or musicians or anything, why do we spend 3.5 million a month on a Philharmonic Orchestra comprising of (Mainly) foreigner mucisians for (mainly) foreigner audience, when that 42 million a year could be used to promote music education in a 1000 schools or build 100 mini KLPacs. (Can you imagine where the country would be now, in the ten years we have been wasting our time with The Malaysian Phil? God knows, I am not xenophobic.)

Anna, who has been in this country for 15 years, will be going to London for a bit before coming back. She hopes to do some work -- that is writing -- while she is there. She says she feels so lazy when she is here!

I was shocked.

"No, it's not so shocking. So many of my expatriate friends tell me the same thing. Being here makes them lazy," she said. "When they first come here, they like the sun so much, they spend all their time in the swimming pool. Then they get fed up, and try to look for other things, but there is nothing ... or they say there is nothing ... everything is so sensitive ... except shopping ..."

"Yes, yes, yes ... but why do you become lazy? Is it the weather, or is there something in the drinking water, or is it the air, or ..."

"I don't know ... except that when I am in London I will have plenty of time to write. When I was in Singapore, I used to help out in the National Museum like many other expatriate wives -- they gave us six months training -- but here they are not interested in us ... I had so much to do in Singapore."

I felt something there, because I remember a time when expatriates were quite active in the drama circles -- I mean in the production, acting, directing, music, lighting and so on. (We didn't learn all that living in a vacuum, you know.) Now, the only place we seem to find expatriates in are expensive coffee places, supermarkets or upmarket shopping malls. Still, Anna's answer was not entirely satisfactory.

"But that still does not explain why one becomes lazy when one comes here."

"Well, here everyone is satisfied with small things. If they go for pottery classes, they are happy if they can make a little pot for themselves. They are not interested in finding out more, in improving further, for excellence. There were many pottery classes before. Now, most of them are shut. When it comes to shopping they want the best, they don't mind spending twenty bucks on a cup of coffee, or a few hundred on a dress so they can look good. But they do nothing to improve themselves. They write a small story, they are happy. They make a small film, they are happy. Direct a bad play, and they are happy."

She went on and I kept trying to pull her back. "Yes, but what makes expatriates become like the locals?"

She tried to explain, but she couldn't put her finger on it, not to my satisfaction in any case. Anna has promised to write me an essay on the subject (which I shall post on this column as soon as I get it). But in the mean time one wonders what other expatriates out there think about this? And, are we really in serious danger of finding electric hibiscuses in Piccadilly Circus?

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The Kuala Lumpur Alternative Bookfest earlier this month was a nice experience. No, seriously. It was small, cozy, friendly and, most of all, I liked the buzz. There was no fear of it becoming another orgy of commercial bookselling -- it was not large enough to be noticed by the 'big boys'. With not a textbook in sight, not one workbook, not one management book, nor one 'teach-others-how-to-live-their-lives' book, it was a breath of fresh air. Most of the books were Malaysian, in Malay and in English, though there were some books from Indonesia and Singapore, which was good given the way our bookshops are overflowing with imported books. It was nice to see book social groups participating. There was also a 'free books' booth, a book charity, apart from indie and self publishers. (Silverfish Books paid for one of the tables that was used to sell books for charity, and supplied the books as well.)

Congratulations to the organisers. Hope you will do this regularly. I am sure there are other publishers who should have been there. Maya Press comes to mind. I understand the necessity to stop somewhere, or this could end up like any other fair. What is alternative? Alternative to what? Sometimes it is easier to define what we don't want, than what we want. I wouldn't want a book fair selling mainly school textbooks and workbooks like the recent KL International Book Fair, so that is one. That was easy. Secondly, it would be nice to be a place that featured only Malaysian books so we don’t get swamped with imported books. How about books from the other ASEAN countries, then? It is nice to have them around. No? Let us leave that out for the moment and stick to local books. Non-fiction books are fine but do I really want to go to a fair with tables full of books on management, self-help and recycled 'wisdom'? Ultimately, it is up to the organisers to decide. For me, I like the mix of the first KLAB -- eclectic but not high-brow, and fun.

I attended only one session, the one by Sisters In Islam on book censorship, Wacana on book banning. Pretty good turnout, I thought. On the panel were V. Gayathry (Centre for Independent Journalism), Astora Jabat (former Chief Editor of Al-Islam and columnist on Islamic affairs in Utusan Malaysia)
, Norhayati Kaprawi (Sisters In Islam) 
 and a phantom representative from Home Ministry. (He was not visible to anyone, nor did he say anything.) The debate went along pretty much predictable lines (we have all heard it before -- they went to the ministry, spoke to some furniture and came back disappointed, how dare that chair tell me what I should read!) but I liked Astora Jabat's presentation on censorship within Islam -- seemed pretty much about power. The poster and the postcard SIS organized for the event was nice.

So will the issue of book banning ever go away? I think not. We will probably have to wait for a gomen baru, lor.

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I am not a great fan of book prizes. But then, I am not a great fan of prizes of any sort. (Huzir say that no one is, until they win one themselves.) However, when I received the following notice it caught my eye for some reason. It was not the prize money -- AUD$110,000 is nothing to scoff at. It seemed a bit more straight forward, unlike the circus act the Man Booker Asia turned out to be. (This could also become one, if they are not careful.)

Asia (for the Award) includes these countries: Bangladesh, Bhutan, Brunei, Cambodia, China, Hong Kong (China), Macau (China), Tibet (China), India, Indonesia, Japan, Laos, Malaysia, Maldives, Mongolia, Myanmar (Burma), Nepal, New Zealand, North Korea, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Philippines, Singapore, South Korea, Sri Lanka, Taiwan, Thailand, Timor Leste (East Timor) and Vietnam. (West Asia still not included. Why?)
You can read the rules and get the entry forms here.
The closing date is 31^st May 2008. (The media statement is reproduced below.)

PREMIER;
MINISTERFOR CULTURE AND THE ARTS
JOINTMEDIA STATEMENT

16/4/08

Australia and Asia's richest literary award launched.

The richest literary award in Australia and Asia has been launched by Premier Alan Carpenter.

Mr Carpenter said the inaugural Western Australian Premier's Australia-Asia Literary Award, worth $110,000, had the power to excite and expand the State's cultural horizons.

"This is a very exciting award that will re-ignite the importance and profile of literature in WA," Mr Carpenter said.

"A prize of this value will draw the best to WA and help fulfil our vision of providing new opportunities for Western Australians."

Culture and Arts Minister Sheila McHale said the award was part of the Carpenter Government's exciting $73million 'Ignite!' package, the biggest single State Government arts funding injection designed to transform literature, dance, theatre, music and visual arts.

"As part of our dynamic 'Ignite!' initiative, the literary award recognises the importance literature plays in our lives," Ms McHale said.

"WA is no longer a small player in the Australia-Asia region and the award will further expand cultural boundaries."

The Minister said the award is open to any book-length work of literary fiction published in print or electronically - something recognising the increasing predominance of electronic media, such as online and mobile phone formats.

The judging panel will consist of three renowned authors and literary experts drawn from some of the nominating countries. They include Pakistani born and multi-award winning author, Kamila Shamsie, author of 'Kartography' and 'Broken Verses' and Sri Lankan born, Hong Kong based columnist and founder of the 'Asia Literary Review', Nury Vittachi.

"This award is a fabulous vote of confidence which I know will kick-start a writing revolution," Mr Vittachi said.

"By embracing the area in which we live, and opening up this award outside Australia, we recognize the rich cultural heritage of Asia and the links our countries can create, on more than an economic basis."

The $110,000 prize makes the award the richest in the nation. Where the winning entry has been translated into English, the author will receive $88,000 and the translator $22,000.

The award is open to works written by an author resident in Australia or Asia, or which are primarily set in Australia or an Asian country. Works must have been either written in, or translated into English and published in the preceding year.

Entries for the award are now open and will close on May 31, 2008. Forms can be downloaded from the Department of Culture and the Arts website http://www.dca.wa.gov.au

Media contacts: Premier's office: Guy Houston 9222 9475 or 0411 742 692

Culture and the Arts Minister's office: Andrew Smith 9213 6900 or 0408 176 839

You can subscribe to have media releases emailed automatically from the Government's website: http://www.mediastatements.wa.gov.au

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I was one of the panel members at the Singapore Writers Festival symposium, The Business of Books, at The Arts House on the 6th and 7th of December. I travelled down by coach on the 6th by Aeroline (which, I must admit, was pretty comfortable) having declined an air ticket by the organisers. (Travelling to KLIA for short hauls is such a pain.) I didn't stay at their official hotel either because I have relatives in Singapore. (And besides I cannot bear to stay in a hotel full of writers. I managed to shock Shan and Saras -- and Saradha -- with the admission that I don't particularly like meeting writers.)

(I know several writers who are now my friends, and they are wonderful people let me assure you. With some people you connect and become friends, with others you don't. When we communicate we communicate as friends, like normal people. Don't you want to know the person behind the book you enjoyed so much, someone asked? No, not really. Orhan Pamuk says that he prefers to read books by dead writers 'so there is no little cloud of jealousy to cloud my admiration'. In my case, I would say 'so there is no little cloud of reality to mitigate my enjoyment' of the writing. Good example, VS Naipaul: I know many who simply can't sit back and enjoy his prose because of all the other things (they think) they know about him. For me it is the song not the singer, all the time. I used to hugely admire Led Zeppelin when in college. There was a reunion concert recently and I would have liked to attend for it would have been interesting to hear what they sound like now after all these years. Would I also have liked to meet one of them personally after the show, if it was at all possible? Not really. I have organised two Literary Festivals for Malaysians to meet the writers. I got a huge buzz, both times, out of seeing people enjoying the events, mixing and mingling with the authors. But, in both cases, I was not particularly interested in meeting any of them besides doing the obligatory handshake routine. Does that make sense?)

But I digress. I attended the Golden Point Awards ceremony on the night of the 5th, their annual literary awards ceremony. It was all very staid and respectable, unlike the elephants and lions we had for our opening ceremony. I prefer not to make any comment on the standards of the winners, though some of the translations on the screen were hilarious -- on par with the 'butterflies fondling' translation during a recent Chinese Opera performance in KL. But congratulations are due to the Singapore National Arts Council for organising the Writer’s Festival in four languages (though I didn't attend any of them). Having done it twice, I know what it would be like to organise something like that. But, of course, they had the backing of the government (which, I am sure, was not necessarily always helpful -- what with committees and all) and, with that, sponsors.

The symposium was run like clockwork, as we have come to expect of any event organised by Singapore, and there was not one 'ugly' Singaporean in sight. (Where did they get that reputation from, I sometimes wonder? In my dealings with them I have always found them extremely warm. Sometimes, I think Malaysians simply have a cultural need to bitch, or else I have met only the wrong (right?) type of Singaporean.) There were some interesting discussions at the symposium (despite there being no alcohol as any symposium, by definition, should) and some that were not. I was on the panel for two sessions -- one on (surprise) independent book publishing and another (again surprise) on organising Literary Festivals. One of the best attended was the one by literary agents and agencies, with many participants taking the opportunity to show off their self published books and one or two trying to sneak in a manuscript. Considering that the participants (around 50 pax) paid SGD 200.00 per day (or SGD 300.00 for two days) to attend the symposium, I guess they were entitled to at least that.

But the session on independent publishing threw up some interesting facts. While bookshops in the region carry tens of thousands of titles from the UK and the US they would, probably, carry less then ten titles each from neighbouring countries. Try looking for Indonesian, Filipino, Thai or Singaporean authors in any of the dozen or so ‘mega’ bookstores in KL. Ditto for Manila, Bangkok, Jakarta or Singapore. So much for 40 years of ASEAN. There is simply no name recognition of writers and, hence, no sales. Why is that so? Is it because regional writers are not glamorous enough?

Don't tell Ayu Utami or Laksmi Pamuntjak that.

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Silverfish Books will be eight this month, on the 26th of June to be exact. To some of you it might seem like we have been around for ever, but to us it feels like, "Has it really been that long?!"

Many of you will remember our beginnings at Desa Sri Hartamas. That was in 1999, in the pre mega-bookstore era of KL, right after the Asian currency crisis. Crazy. When first established the only other place you could get a decent book in KL was from Skoob. That was the reason for setting it up in the first place. People (at that time) thought a cafe in a bookshop was a novel idea, but all we wanted was a cup of tea (or coffee) while we had a yadda-yadda with our customers.(We still do.)

Desa Sri Hartamas was new at that time. Taxi drivers didn't know where it was, a bus came in every hour (or whenever the driver felt like it) and parking was murder. We got tired of constantly answering questions over the phone like, Where is Sri Hartamas, ah?In KL, ah? We decided to move So Bangsar, it was. Only upstairs lot available, so be it. We couldn't afford the predatory rentals of the downstairs lots, anyway.

Then we got into publishing through Silverfish New Writing 1 in 2001, organised the first Kuala Lumpur International Literary Festival in 2004, and we have been otherwise keeping ourselves busy - not letting moss grow under our feet and that kind of thing. Business has been okay but not brilliant, what with the book industry in the country intent on defying gravity and all that. But, let's not go there.

We are not having any special anniversary do this year, but we could make Salleh ben Joned's readings from Adam's Dream on Saturday 7th of July at 5.30pm (yes, we have changed the date though Salleh's birthday is on the 4th) at Silverfish Books a double celebration. Hmmm. A few bottles of wine should do it, no?

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Guess it was bound to happen one day. Dato' Zarir Cama, CEO of HSBC Malaysia, will be leaving Kuala Lumpur to take up his next (more senior) posting in London next month. Never thought I would ever feel sad at the departure of a corporate CEO - not quite endearing a specie in my book. But sad I do feel, like everyone else involved in Arts and Literature in the city, at the departure of Dato' Cama, or Zed to all who knew him.

Other corporate bodies have been involved in the arts too, but one cannot help feeling that they were merely trying to impress the overlords, or responding to some form of arm-twisting. But none have been like Zed, who appeared to simply love the arts and literature, who was willing to get down to the ground, who was equally comfortable with presidents and prime ministers as he was with grungy artist types. Perhaps it was a well-calculated corporate strategy. But so what? That is exactly the point, isn't it? Can anyone talk about the Arts in Kuala Lumpur without simultaneously thinking of HSBC?

HSBC sponsored the printing of Silverfish New Writing 5 and 6. Now these two books which carry the bank's logo are going to be around for the next ten, if not twenty years, during which period anyone who picks up the books to read, or borrows them or browses a library will see that logo. Newspapers last for a day, magazines for a week, bill boards a bit longer. But books are forever, and at a fraction of the cost at that. Corporations do underestimate the power of the arts and literature as a corporate strategy.

I asked Zed once how he got into literature. He laughed and said that the question should be how he got into banking. He said he was a Literature graduate and that he majored in TS Eliot. I was shocked into submission. He said TS Eliot had also been a banker, as did PG Wodehouse. Come to think of it, our own Wong Phui Nam was a banker too. Looks like there is something more to be said for bean counters.

Farewell, Zed. Thank you for being a friend of Arts and Literature in Malaysia. Thank you for being our friend. Your four years and seven months in this country has left an indelible mark. (Seems like he's been around forever, doesn't it?) We are sure HSBC for the Arts will continue from where you left off.

And, welcome to Malaysia Ms Irene M Dorner, CEO of HSBC Malaysia.

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The circus has started again. But we will not be part of it. Not this time. We wanted to opt out the last time as well, but Joyce came in and said, "Please, please, please …" and we succumbed.

We received a set of non-disclosure forms a few weeks ago, which got promptlythrown into the waste-paper basket. Basically, we had to promise not to sellthe book until the actual date for worldwide release. That is really not that bad. What riles is the shear capitalist exploitation of it. The last time wehad to order a minimum quantity, at a reduced discount and on non-returnablebasis. (Is that the worst face of capitalism, or what? If something sells well, raise the price.)

And all that for what? With the big stores all offering a 20% discount on the book we had to follow suit. The operating cost of an average bookstore is approximately 20%. And after we gave away another 20% in discount, we were actually selling the book at a substantial loss. Why do that? (In the US and UK the discount was 50%. Go figure. The book industry is bizarre. Bookstores, especially the mega ones, have been defying gravity for far too long. The music industry does not sell newly released, best-selling CDs at 50% discount, does it? No wonder Borders is losing money, and has to pull out of UK.)

Harry Potter makes no sense to booksellers. The only ones who make money are the publishers, distributors and Ms Rowling. Everyone else loses money. (Bloomsbury's profits were down 75% in 2006 because it was a non-HP year.)

Last time around, mountains of HP 6 were remaindered all over the world within six months of its release. ACMA Books was selling a Harry Potter 5 & 6 set (both hardbacks) for MYR20.00. In total we (a few friends) bought over twenty sets to give away as presents. Our advice: if you must have HP7, don't be so kiasu. Wait for a while and you will be able to buy it at a substantially lower cost. Kiasu-ness costs money, a lot of money. And if the past few HPs are anything to go by, save the money for another book and/or give yourself a treat at a fancy restaurant. You will enjoy yourself more.

Don't get me wrong. I loved the cheek and charm of HP 1 & 2. The blending together of an Enid Blyton adventure (complete with afternoon English tea and crumpets), a dollop of Narnia and a pinch of Tolkein, was really quite charming. Then with HP 3 things started getting weird - okay, flying cars I can take, but the travel-in-time-and-raise-the-dead bit was quite a bit beyond Ms Rowling's limited talents, I thought. Don't even ask about HP 4, 5 & 6. It has been panned enough.

Read HP 1 & 2. They are still the best by far.

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KLILF 2007 is finally over. I was feeling like a truck driver after his last delivery at the end of a 7000-mile journey with no co-driver, only an attendant, as I sat alone in the Kopi Thiam staring into the kopi-o-kow. "At least the customers are happy." And I don't have a 7000-mile drive back.

The second one will be easier, they all said. After all you have already organised one. The sponsors will be queuing up.

Six weeks before the event I get a call, "Is it true that the Lit Fest has been cancelled?" Four weeks before the event we have thirty participants and zero sponsors. Only the registration fees paid up. There was no coverage in any of the media. I am wondering if we will have enough money to print fliers. Posters? Too late for that. We must push ahead. "Don't worry, it will fall in place." Right.

Quite a few weeks worth of sleep has already been lost.

Then we get the first cheque. Not much, but it will have to be enough. Enough gas to get the truck to the destination if we coasts downhill and get down and push it in the flat areas. The media launch is held at the cost of used shoelaces. The event is part-sponsored (and rescued) by Dato' Shahrizat. (She has no idea how desperate we were. Rumours were running around that we had raised millions.) The media came in numbers for the launch, but all they were interested in was the news about the 800 non-virgin schoolgirls. (What can you say? Malaysian journalism.)

Then stories started appearing in some newspapers. More participants inquired and signed up. On the 14th of March we still had only 80 registrations. "Don't worry Malaysians are always late." Try telling that to the truck driver who hasn't slept at all for three months.

15th of March: the phones will not stop ringing, and the emails boxes fill up. One hundred people registered. Then with the help of Rose, another sponsorship cheque is received, ten days before date of delivery. Phew!

Then the badgering starts: goody, goody, goody ... now that you have more and you won't have push the truck, can we have the two elephants ... please, please, please ... and lions ... how about the lions ... four lions at least ... surely there cannot be a show without lions ... all we have now are dogs ... and while you are at it can you pick up the performing Prussian cats ... please, please, please, please, please ...

I cannot believe my ears: "You want me to drive back 6800 miles to pick up your pet Prussian cats in time for the show next week? Where have you been all these months?" I want to kill somebody, and so does my attendant. She wants to do it with flying chopsticks. But we decides that it will have to wait until after our work is done. I simply say that there is no more room in the truck, which is also true. "Why don't you drive back and pick them up? I will deliver them, once you get them for me. I am a little bit busy right now, not that you would have noticed."

Sulk. Sulk is a four-letter word. So is work. And talk. Especially talk.

The truck driver looks at the clouds in his black coffee as he stirs. He wishes he was smoking something.

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Commonwealth Prize

We received an email and entry forms for the 2007 Prize recently from an assistant working on the Commonwealth Writers' Prize, a literary award established in 1987 to 'reward the upsurge of new Commonwealth fiction and ensure that works of merit reach a wider audience outside their country of origin'. (Previous winners include, Andrea Levy, Louis de Bernieres, J.M. Coetzee, Zadie Smith and Vikram Seth.)

As we know, The Prize is open to any Commonwealth citizen and any work of fiction is eligible with the exception of any work written for children alone, or drama or poetry. (From their website.)

They said they were currently updating their publisher lists for the 2007 Prize. It’s great that Silverfish Books has been noticed by The Commonwealth Writer's Prize organisation. Now, if only we had writers to nominate ...

More books banned in Malaysia

Latest in the list of casualties is Immortality and Laughable Loves by Milan Kundera. We can practically hear your, wha-aa-at? We can only say, to those who are new here, "Welcome to Malaysia."

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