Writings

I had just left the office when Patrick Cotter, Director of The Munster Literature Centre, called on Monday. Phek Chin took the call and politely told the gentleman that I could not be contacted because I had already gone home. Gone home? It is only eleven o'clock here, he said. Whereupon, Phek Chin inquired where he was calling from. Ireland! And ... He was just calling to tell Mr Raman Krishnan that his writer, Shih-Li Kow, has been short-listed for the Frank O'Connor award!

The silence that followed must have been deafening. Phek Chin was petrified. She was speechless. She was afraid to say anything lest she sounded like a blithering idiot.(Oi!!! she protests to me, loudly.) But he assured her that it was a perfectly normal reaction and that he had been confronted by it several times before. He made her promise to tell me about it, as soon as possible, and gave her his email.

She says she was still frozen in shock for a while after she put down the phone, not knowing what do or think. Finally, after recovering some of her senses, she called my house (I was not there yet as I had some errands to run), then my wife's mobile and my house again, and managed to leave a message for me. Then, when I called her it was my turn to be gob-smacked.

Apparently, Shih-Li came in a while later that evening and Phek Chin made her sit down before telling her. Are you sure? It can't be, lah. Maybe it is a hoax, Aiyoh, I am going to pengsan ... and so on and so forth. Anyway, Phek Chin and I walked around the whole day, the next day, grinning from ear to ear, as if we had been smoking something. I cannot begin to imagine what Shih-Li must feel, but we are so incredibly happy for her.

I first met Shih-Li almost three years ago at the third Silverfish Writing Programme. News from Home was published about one year after she finished the Programme, and Ripples, another year later. She is unpretentious, she is level-headed, and she is prolific -- such a wonderful writer to work with. As I worked on Ripples, I felt that her work was very good -- a sort of prize-winning good, if you know what I mean -- and I was determined to nominate her for an award, any award. But still, when I received the news that she was short-listed for the Frank O'Connor (I mean the Frank O'Conner), it left me in a state of shock, in a daze -- though in a nice way.

Well, now she has to be in Cork, Ireland on the 20th of September for the awards presentation at the end of the Frank O'Connor Short Story Festival, which starts on the 16th of that month. Win or lose, it does not matter any more. She has already won. Malaysian writing has already won. Malaysian readers have won.

Let us bask in the warmth for a while more, then we shall resume prowling the streets for more hidden gems that we can polish. Congratulations again, Shih-Li Kow. You have blazed the trail.

Labels: Publishing

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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 ...

Labels: Others

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Silverfish bashing has become an annual sport. I thought this year's season was over. But looks like I was wrong, judging from a book review in the Sunday pullout of a major daily. (The fact that a major English newspaper actually allowed someone to use its pages for a blatant personal attack raises many other questions. Did they not read it? I have written to them but have not received a reply.)

The questions I have had to field over the last week have been the obvious ones. Who is Amy de Kanter? Do you know her? Why is she attacking you like that? Outraged as my friends are, I am actually quite amused. She probably popped a couple of blood vessels writing that. First, I was taken aback. Then I got a little annoyed. Then, when I came to the faulty microphone part, I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. It was so lame. Dear Amy, you are one unhappy bunny.

As for the first question, my answer is, "I don't know who she is," which also answers the second. As for why she is attacking Silverfish Books and me, I can only speculate. She says that our editing is so bad and compares it to a singer using a bad microphone, or a dancer on a wobbly stage! How poetic. Ironically, on the next page of the same magazine section was a story of another Silverfish title vying for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, the richest of its kind in the world!

Actually, the book she 'reviewed' was released eight months ago and has been read by thousands of people, and is very popular. Silverfish Books has published over 30 titles so far, sold over 100,000 books some of which are used as college text in over 20 local and overseas universities (including the University of California in Berkeley). And, now, Amy de Kanter compares the standard of our editing to a faulty microphone, or a wobbly stage. Oh, she wounds me, I fail, I fall, I die! (Sorry, Tash Aw.)

So what does she have against me? First of all, I am not even sure this is a real person. Or one person. It could be a pseudonym. She has neither an email contact, nor a bio in her story. Maybe, she does not want her boss in her own newspaper to know that she is moonlighting with another. It happens. Or, she is one of those who prefer to hide their hands after throwing stones. She could be reacting to a perceived or imaginary slight, or she could be carrying a torch for someone else, or sucking up to them, or she simply wants to teach this 'uppity native' a lesson.

There are several reasons for hating Silverfish Books. Firstly, we are publishers and we reject manuscripts. We have, on several occasions, had friends coming in asking why so-and-so is saying (or writing) this about you. All I have to do is, go into my room and pick out a manuscript and ask, "Is this the person?" I have been right many times. There are also those who post comments anonymously, but one can, sort of, guess what their problem is from the tone of the comment. I have even had nasty emails from people who have not had their one short story selected for an anthology. But these are the tiny minority, the loony fringe. (Thank God for the delete key!) Most people send me a 'thank you' note.

Then there are those who want to self-publish, and are quite willing to pay (until they know how much). (Is this a norm in Malaysia?) They ask to use the Silverfish imprint. I say we can't do that unless it satisfies our criteria, in which case we will not charge them. But, we could help them self-publish under their own names, I say. They insist on the Silverfish imprint. I resist. They are surprised that I prefer not to take their money. They get angry and leave in a huff, sometimes with expletives trailing. Difficult.

Virulent strains of the 'basher' virus include envy and inferiority complex. Some people just can't come to terms with this 'uppity native' being able to do things they dare not even dream about. On one hand they hate this native. Yet, on the other, they want to be part of the trip. It is a real dilemma. So in between, they bash.

Let me tell you a fairy tale. Once upon a time, in a land far away, a man was working on a rather large project, he was organising a festival so grand the likes of which had never been done in the land, for he wanted the people to rejoice. He had a small dedicated team. This lady would to hang around and watch them with a hangdog expression obviously wanting to be a part of it. He was reluctant to rope her in because he knew she was panic prone. But he relented eventually. He felt sorry for her, found the simplest task and asked her if she could 'help' them. He though she couldn't possibly mess it up. He also offered to pay her a 1000 smackaroos a month, a sum he could ill afford, and which he should have given to another member of the team who was doing amazing work. Anyway, two months later when he asked her about it, she had done nothing! It was a simple job, but she couldn't handle it. She had panicked. She had icicles on her feet. The event was only three weeks away, and they needed to go to the printer immediately. They were desperate.

The man lost his head and hollered at her, took the job back, and worked on it himself through the night with a hundred other things to do. She was upset. He pacified her and gave her even simpler jobs to do he while still paid her. He soon forgave her for the incident, for he was not one to hold a grudge for long. After a successful festival, that saw poets and writers from the world over converge to the land, that saw people rejoicing with much merriment, he returned to his castle. That's when he noticed that many of his wells had been poisoned. He was confused. He couldn't understand who would do that. Why, he asked? This went on and on for years, this poisoning. He still couldn't understand it. In the meantime, she went around telling everyone how ungrateful he was for not thanking her for her help. For what, he retorted, when people told him, and dismissed it.

Then she changed. But he was too buried in his work to notice. She transformed into a Cik Zahirah of Shih-Li Kow's story. She lost her face. Or rather, acquired the ability to choose any face she wanted at will. She mastered the art of huggy-wuggying and kissy-wissying the man in public, and then badmouthing him the moment his back was turned, in the same breath too. She was good. Nay, she was brilliant. She could praise a book (or people) in one breath, and rubbish it (or them) in the next. Once, she sat in his castle and rubbished a book (and its editor) by another publisher. He wondered what that was all about. Then he found out. Not much later, she picked up something else totally unrelated that he had written, completely distorted and misinterpreted it, and led a hysterical knotted-knicker frenzy (don't try to imagine that) making him the villian, creating a crisis with the other publisher. Soon, everyone joined in the bashing. The evil mist spread ...

The land became divided. Sometimes, he would laugh at her clumsy antics. Mostly, he was sad. The people were split into two: winners or whiners. Those who could, did; those who couldn't, whined. And that continues to this day.
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Many people, when they talk about wanting to learn creative writing, basically want the magic pill.  They don't believe it when you say that there is no such thing. They will think you are trying to keep it for yourself. If there was e a magic pill for writing, some of us will get quite seriously rich.

Roy Peter Clark's blog, PoynterOnline, offers toolbox, maybe the next best thing to a magic pill, with plenty of discussions on  provides tools for your writing reporting, writing & editing. He also has a book, Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer. Not quite 5 easy solutions to writing but 50. In case, you hate reading, there are podcasts too.

Fifty Writing Tools is divided into four part: Nuts and Bolts, Special Effects, Blueprints and Useful Habits. The first advice is: Begin sentences with subjects and verbs -- Make meaning early, then let weaker elements branch to the right. Interestingly, isn't that what we were taught in primary school, but soon forgot in our 'hurry' to become clever?

"It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen." George Orwell -- 1984. What an incredible opening sentence! With no phoenixes or dragons, no dark and stormy nights, it was straight to the point, shocking to the core, yet simple. But contrary to the advice above, he did not simply let the weaker elements drift to the right. He positioned his sledgehammer there. (Of course, no one knows how many times he rewrote that. Our own Salleh ben Joned, laboured for three months over just one word! But that is another story.)

Many of these would be classified under commonsense, but one would equally disagree with others. Here are ten -- naturally, many of there rules are to be broken, but not for beginners (but if you think you are a genius without ever having written a book, then good luck to you):

. Activate you verbs -- Strong verbs create action, save words, and reveal the players.
. Be passive-aggressive -- Use passive verbs to showcase the "victim" of action.
. Order words for emphasis -- Place strong words at the beginning and at the end, and so on.
. Set the pace with sentence length -- Vary sentences to influence the reader's speed.
. Tune your voice -- Read drafts aloud.
. Learn the difference between reports and stories -- Use one to render information, the other to render experience.
. Use dialogue as a form of action -- Dialogue advances narrative; quotes delay it.
. Write from different cinematic angles -- Turn your notebook into a "camera."
. Prefer archetypes to stereotypes -- Use subtle symbols, not crashing cymbals.
. Recruit your own support group -- Create a corps of helpers for feedback.

Unfortunately, I feel he has left out the most important advice of all: Read, read, read and read some more. (Or does that come under the writing workbench rule?).

Poynter
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Alison Flood writes in The Guardian of how the judges for the Carnegie medal, Britain's oldest children's book award, have drawn up a shortlist consitingo of entirely 'boysy' stories. She says: "Magic and monsters are conspicuous by their absence this year from the shortlist for Britain's oldest children's book prize, the Carnegie medal, which is dominated by titles featuring ordinary children dealing with the pitfalls and adventures of everyday life." (The Carnegie is in its 72nd year and is seen as the most 'the kids' Booker.)

Getting boys to read for pleasure has, of course, been the subject of much literary angst. Girls have always appeared to gravitate more naturally than boys towards books or anything literary. I am currently one of the judges for the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award for Young Malaysians for 2009. I was sent the final shortlist of twenty essays/short stories to grade, out of which, interestingly, 16 were by girls. But as a bookseller I, notice that I have as many customers who are women as men, although their buying habits are different.

Keith Gray, one of the authors on the list says: "People have said it's quite boysy -- I say hurrah for that. There seem to be quite a lot of books out there for girls, about what it feels like to be a girl in modern times, whether it's Jacqueline Wilson or pinker, fluffier books. Whereas a lot of books aimed at boys are about being a spy, fighting monsters, being a vampire. It's great to have some which are about what it feels like to just be a boy ... So many books for boys are about being X Box-style heroes -- it's so nice to have more down to earth heroes."

But is the problem all about books not appealing to boys? I know why I started reading -- the pictures. Then when I was in primary school, I had the most wonderful history teacher a boy could have. Mr Selvaratnam was his name, and the twelve-inch ruler was his game. And with his ruler he could transform from a sword-wielding pirate to a Portuguese commandant with a blunderbuss or a Japanese soldier with a bayonet. He would prance about in front of the class swishing and shooting and stabbing with his ruler, setting free our imagination. So I was more than a bit surprise when, during my Form 4 years, some of my classmates decided to 'drop' History and Literature. How could anyone not like history and literature, I thought?

Going back to the Carnagie, Gray describes himself as a reluctant reader as a child. He says the first book he was persuaded to pick up was the Carnegie-winning The Machine Gunners by Robert Westall. "I can remember seeing the Carnegie medal stamped on the front cover. Just having my name on the shortlist is great," he says. "The Machine Gunners got me reading, and that's what got me writing, so you could say the Carnegie turned me into a reader and a writer."

My son grew up in the eighties, amply distracted by the television and video games. (Internet was not available then). Interestingly, what started him reading were the movies. I remember queuing for the tickets for Jurassic Park because he was into the dinosaur phase too at the time. I had never read Michael Crichton before, but I decided to get a copy of the book just for the heck of it. He saw it lying around the house and asked if he could read it. He never looked back after that. So boys do read for different reasons, but I suspect having books around the house does not hurt.

One frequently asked question we get at Silverfish Books is from parents who want to know how they can get their children, especially boys, to read? We generally manage to huff and puff round that question. But what we really really want to say is: "So what books do you read?"

Labels: Reading

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A story in The Independent by Warwick Mansell, Power of words: How a children's writer is turning boys into bookworms, tells how writer GP Taylor is making pupils read by telling them stories, with some remarkable results.

Which comes as a bit of surprise. It should be expected, one would have thought. Common sense. But when bureaucratic educationists get into the act, I should think they'd be able to committee anything to death, including common sense. I started reading because it was fun, because I could go places I never could in real life. My memory of childhood is all about story-telling by my parents, my uncles, aunts and older cousins.

Graham Taylor is an ex-vicar, ex-policeman, and exorcist turned multi-million selling author of fantasy novels who has visited more than 150 primary schools this year to tell children stories, for which he does not charge. His object is to get students, especially boys, reading for pleasure.

The British Government's national literacy strategy has been accused of focusing on teaching reading mainly through extracts of books, and drilling pupils to pass tests. " ... the literacy strategy, introduced in 1998, which emphasized the teaching of reading and writing as the acquisition of discrete skills -- such as word decoding, analysing sentence structure, spelling and grammar -- without actually getting pupils wanting to read in the first place."

Professor Teresa Cremin, president of the United Kingdom Literacy Association, says: "Children were shown a text and asked to find the adverbial clause, or asked what complex sentences they could find in a paragraph. This approach can get a bit farcical."

You bet. Who cares what part of speech a word is, or how a sentence is structured. What's important are the stories they tell and the joy a child gets when he reads them. Reading is entertainment, but if there is one thing the school system does well it to take all the joy out of it, and make it  a chore.

Jonathan Douglas, director of the National Literacy Trust, says: "There was an overemphasis on skills and an underemphasis on the reason why you would read. Reading for pleasure suffered."

Professor Cremin agrees: "The pressure to achieve the level fours and level fives in tests is so great that teachers have felt that there is not the time to engage in reading for pleasure".

Which is kind of funny because children who read for pleasure will surely do better in tests, as results show at St Peter's Church of England primary school in Ashton-under-Lyne, outside Manchester. Last year 83 per cent of pupils gained their expected level, well ahead of the school's 43 per cent target.

The Independent

Labels: Reading

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Shelf-Awareness.com touts it as a publishing model for the 21st Century. "The [publishing] industry seems to want a return on investment, quickly and guaranteed," Stephen Roxburgh says. "The difficulty is that the people at the end of that chain, paradoxically enough, are artists and authors who need time to develop a project."
 
Roxburgh is the pioneer of namelos (nameless), a "consortium of independent publishing professionals." Kara LaReau has launched Bluebird Works, which offers creative services that include editing and manuscript evaluation. Both companies strive to help creators of children's books develop projects at their own pace and until they're ready to be submitted to an agent or editor. Agents or editors (instead of authors) may hire these companies for their projects.

So what's new about this publishing mode? This used to be the traditional role of publishing houses before big business took over. Silverfish books has been doing this for over two years now. The Silverfish New Writing series was going nowhere. It was started as a platform for discovering new Malaysian writing talent, but after seven years and no sign of any sustained talent emerging (except for Mathew Thomas) we decided to stop.

We have argued before that in Malaysia we cannot expect authors to come out with their own manuscripts without some assistance -- both editorial and creative -- particularly considering that English is often the second or third language. So we started the Silverfish Writing Programme. The focus is on story telling, and writing what publishers look for. We have currently published four writers and working with one more. It is a slow process and the current crop still have some way to go, but four writers in two years is still way better than one in seven. We continue to dream of a time in the future (not so far away we hope) when a couple of dozen Malaysian writers start producing good quality books on a regular basis, creating a supply and a demand, and perhaps even attracting a glance from publishers overseas. (We have been approached for local manuscripts by more than one international literary agent.)

We hosted a literary event last week with readings from Dua Lauk and Perempuan Simpanan. About 50 people turned up for the reading despite the rain. They appeared a little intimidated in the beginning (our reputation has probably travelled far), but they soon settled down. They were well organised, they had an enthusiastic leader who preferred to remain in the background, they were all very supportive of one another, and there was not one pretentious arty-farty literatti 'air head' in sight. Of course, they still have a long way to go, literary wise. But, I do wish them well and I sincerely hope they succeed for we do need a strong Malay literary scene. Syabas to this wonderful group. And, thank you Irman for introducing them to us and bringing them to Silverfish Books. They are welcome anytime at all. Drinks and bites on us. (A slide show has been posted for those who could not make it.)

The Shelf-Awareness article continues, saying: 'Their companies' model shifts the financial responsibility to the authors up front rather than the traditional model under which, after paying an advance, the publisher works with them to develop the project. "That will happen with increasingly fewer people," said Roxburgh. "The industry's capacity to serve and cultivate and develop the talent is much diminished in the face of the contraction and consolidation it confronts now. The model [namelos is] proposing is to acknowledge the hard truth, but I think it also happens to reflect the evolution of the industry."'
 
In the case of Silverfish Books, we currently do not charge authors anything to work with them, although many are willing to pay. (But, we do have a nominal charge for the Silverfish Writing Programme.) All we ask is they be willing to work hard. We look at their sample work, talk to them and then decide if there is a book.

Karen LaReau, hopes to have two books out in 2011. (It is a slow process.) She is not sure where the industry is going, but she says: "People are always going to want good stories ... all I can do, is to continue to provide that."

Shelf-Awareness

Labels: Publishing

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