I’m happy to share a guest post by one of our publisher reps, Jon Mayes. He has been in the book business all of his adult life, both as a bookstore owner and as a publisher’s representative. Jon visits our store several times a year to keep us up to date on all the best books from Perseus. One of our favorites this year is Jamie Quatro‘s new book I Want to Show You More which is also our First Editions Club pick for March. Here’s what Jon says:
Jamie Quatro from Lookout Mountain, Georgia
Since part of my job is to represent our publishers and authors to my accounts, I find it often helps if I can get to know the writers personally, especially if they live in the South. When I met author Jamie Quatro for coffee in Chattanooga, I asked her to tell me a little about herself and how it came about that Grove/Atlantic was publishing her new book. Little did I know then that magic was involved, and it was just meant to be.
“I was at the Sewanee Writers’ Conference—a dizzying and inspiring twelve days of workshops, panels, lectures, readings. One of the conference highlights was a panel in memory of Barry Hannah, the man whose work made me want to be a writer in the first place. I’d read everything; published articles about him in the Oxford American; gave a graduate lecture at Bennington on his “pornographic” syntax. Shakespeare, Austen, Dickens, Faulkner, Hannah: my literary hall of fame.
At the last minute, I invited Barry’s son Po (a friend) to drive down from Knoxville so he could hear the panelists—Bob Shacochis, Christine Schutt, Erin McGraw, William Gay, and Tom Franklin. Po hadn’t been to Sewanee in years, certainly not since his Dad had passed away. He told me he was heading down to Oxford that day anyhow, to attend Dean Faulkner’s funeral, but said he’d have a bit of time to show me some of his dad’s old stomping grounds.
Jill McCorkle
Po walked in with William Gay and Bob Shacochis. The four of us stood in a circle; one of my Bennington mentors, Jill McCorkle, came over to join us. Po reached into his pocket and placed something in my hand. “I think Dad would want you to have this,” he said. I was holding Barry’s gold-plated cigarette lighter. It was a hushed and holy moment. Light from the magician on high.
I’m pretty sure that’s where the Grove magic started.
The next morning, as had become my habit, I walked to the Blue Chair Café for coffee. I sat at one of the small tables outside and started to read the day’s workshop stories. A few minutes later, this gorgeous woman – long, thick hair, big smile, slender, athletic build—sat down beside me. When she took a manuscript out of her bag, I figured she was a writer. We made small talk. I told her I was there for the conference, and she said she was too, but that was it. We both returned to the pages in front of us.
Beautiful Sewanee in Tennessee
Later that morning, I went to the publishing panel and found out the woman was Elisabeth Schmitz from Grove/Atlantic. She and Gary Fisketjon from Knopf spoke on the panel together; it turned out they were both regulars at Sewanee. I ran into Elisabeth twice more that day. In both instances, we were alone—astonishing, given the number of writers at the conference. We never talked about my work, or hers. I don’t think she even knew I wrote fiction. I mostly wanted to ask her how she kept her arms so toned.
Two months later my agent, Anna Stein, was ready to go out with my collection. She sent me a list of editors she wanted to send the manuscript to. I told Anna how much I’d liked Elisabeth; Anna added her to the list. The day after she sent out the manuscript, I left for a two-week residency at the MacDowell Colony. I figured I wouldn’t hear anything for at least a few weeks. But in the Atlanta airport, waiting to board the plane to Manchester, I checked my email one last time—and found out the book was going to auction. It happened that fast.
A few days later I met my agent in New York City. We had meetings set up with the bidding houses—I wanted to meet the editors in person. Grove was our last meeting. We walked up the stairs (the Grove offices are above a Bikram yoga studio) and stood in the main office, looking at the books on the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves.
When Elisabeth came out and saw me, she looked slightly stunned. My agent introduced us; I shook her hand.
I met you at Sewanee, I said.
Yes, I remember, she said. So this book is yours?
That’s Barry Hannah at Lemuria.
I sat on the couch in Elisabeth’s office. And there was Hannah: a picture of him (and Jeanette Winterson, among others) on the wall behind Elisabeth’s desk; Long, Last, Happy on her shelves.
I’m in Barry’s house, I thought.
I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you had a collection, when we were at Sewanee, Elisabeth said.
I don’t remember how I answered her. I must have said something about how it felt uncouth to try to sell myself like that. But the mystic in me wants to believe I didn’t say anything because that would have ruined the surprise of that moment, sitting there in her office; Barry looking down, a fluke thunderstorm raging outside.
Of course, the rational part of me still says: coincidence.
By the time I left Grove, the storm had blown over. The village streets were wet and glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. Elisabeth walked me out, pointed me in the direction of the subway station, gave me a hug. Before heading uptown, I wandered around the Strand.
There was Barry again.
When Grove won the auction, it felt like coming home.
See the original post from Jon Mayes’ blog.
Don’t miss Jamie Quatro on Monday the 25th for a signing (5:00) and reading (5:30).
Also see: Short Story Champions: George Saunders, Ron Rash and now Jamie Quatro
Since Jamie Quatro is a new name for many of us, I’d like to share an interview with her from The Leonard Lopate show on New York Public Radio. Jamie talks about her collection of short stories I Want to Show You More and the recent enthusiasm for the short story form. Her stories deal with infidelity in the digital age, individuals who “wrestle” with their faith and find grace amidst loss and struggle.
“We must re-invent love but also quite simply defend it, because it faces threats from all sides.” It is in reaction to posters for an European internet dating-site, Meetic (the particular), and a collective mutation/transfiguration of modern love-action/language-representation (the general), that he takes up his sword-pen against and strikes. The slogans: “Get love without chance!” and “Be in love without falling in love!” and “Get Perfect love without suffering!” Badiou parses out the constituents of love and risk, he says, is a major ingredient. Love cannot exist truly without the randomness involved. It’s like cracking an egg but finding it full of water rather than yolk and substance.
It may still be cold outside but at Lemuria we’re already thinking about Summer Reading! This is our third year to work with One Jackson Many Readers, a collaborative partnership with JPS, United Way, Jackson-Hinds Library Systems, City of Jackson, MPB, Jackson Zoo, Mississippi Children’s Museum, and others to support summer reading. We are also honored to share that One Jackson Many Readers has been named one of the Governor’s Top School-Community Partnerships.
As our One Jackson Many Readers team strengthens every year, I am continually encouraged by what our community can do. Thank you to everyone who supported the Pages of Promise book drive last year. We collected many donated books from individuals but also we were able to offer our 20% discount to large donors who have adopted schools or school groups. When these orders are placed through Lemuria, all of your tax dollars stay here in our community. It’s a win-win situation.
Recently read:
A bacon sized slice of the hog that is The TBR shelf:
