David writes… Turns out publishers can do it.
Some publishers. Some of the time.
“It” being have some imagination, show some imagination.
Ours didn’t.
When our publisher was getting ready to midwive our book I (David) campaigned so hard to have the price NOT be £9.99 but rather, “£10 and a midsummer’s rose (midsummer’s rose optional).”
My arguments were:
1.£9.99 is not just boring, it’s utterly vulgar 2.The “saved” penny doesn’t fool anybody and nobody cares about it 3.Everybody else does “it” – £9.99 I mean – and we, London Walks pride ourselves on being different and championing the “always drink upstream from the herd” idea. 4.£10 and a midsummer’s rose is fun, it’s really catchy – it sparks a “hey, look at this, what’s this all about?” reaction. 5.It’s got a fantastic historical London pedigree. To wit: when the Bishop of Ely sold what is today the Hatton Garden and Ely Place patch to Elizabeth I’s “dancing Chancellor,” Christopher Hatton (Christopher Hatton…Hatton Garden…see how it all hangs together), the price was “£10, 10 loads of hay and a midsummer’s rose.” It’s a delightful little bagatelle and we could have put a note on the back cover – by the price – “See inside [or see p. 26] for the explanation for this price!”
But dumb as paint – or at least more than a little bit weak tea in the imagination department – they weren’t having it. Had to be – yuck – £9.99.(You get a copy from me on one of my walks the sales pitch is, “they’re £9.99 in the shops but you can get one from me for £10.” Said sales pitch is a tiny wisp of a memory of that lost battle – a tiny way of continuing to fight it, like some ancient Japanese soldier on Iwo Jima 70 years later who still hasn’t surrendered.)
Anyway, that’s, as they say, history. Today’s update is: lo and behold some publishers do have some imagination! Just heard our neighbor (and more than passing acquaintance ¬– Mary’s acted with Emma’s mum, Mary’s mom lives in the house Emma grew up in) Emma Thompson say on Radio 4 that Faber (the publisher) approached her to do The Further Tale of Peter Rabbit by sending her “a box with a half-eaten radish in it and a letter from Peter Rabbit”.
The which of course did it. She had to take it on after that kind of overture. It was from Peter Rabbit after all. Peter Rabbit lives. He’s real.
Whereas a straight forward “publisher’s letter” – well, as Emma said, “I wouldn’t have touched it, wouldn’t have gone near it if they’d sent me one of those letters.”
A £9.99 letter.
And for an out – an unashamed plug: on our Kensington walk we visit the church where Beatrix Potter tied the knot! Beatrix Potter and several other (in a couple of cases fairly surprising) somebodies!!
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