An Interview with Patrick Nielsen Hayden
by Darrell Schweitzer
DS: Let's start with the basics. Describe beginnings of your
career and what position you hold at Tor right now.
PNH: It's hard to say what the beginnings of my career were
because I have been involved in science fiction fandom, in fanzine publishing
and convention organizing and so forth, for twenty-five years, since
the mid-1970's at least. I've been reading Locus since 1970 because
my godparents bought me a subscription when I was eleven.
But, I made a conscious decision in 1983 that I really wanted to work
professionally in science fiction publishing and that the thing to do
to accomplish that was to go to New York. That's what both Teresa and
I did. I knew perfectly well that I wasn't just going to walk into New
York and have a dandy little job in science fiction publishing. I needed
to get some publishing chops, so I took whatever work I could get. I
worked at the Literary Guild for several months. I worked for a weird,
semi-fly-by-night academic reference publisher called Chelsea House
for several years, editing the Chelsea House Library of Literary Criticism
under the general editorship of Harold Bloom. We had a staff of several
editors who put together this huge anthology of literary criticism.
At one point it could be truly said that no volume of the Chelsea House
Library of Literary Criticism series was touched by mundane hands, because
our general editor was S.T. Joshi. The associate editors were myself,
Teresa, Peter Cannon, Tom Webber. It was almost entirely a science fiction
production.
This went on throughout much of the 1980s and gradually I got a little
bit of freelance work, copyediting, proofreading, a little bit of copy-writing.
I hung around the field. I continued to go to conventions. I helped
start The New York Review of Science Fiction, and just in the
general course of things I wound up doing a lot of work for and with
Tor. So I hung around and did freelance in the field, kept my connections
green, and developed skills in publishing.
Debbie Notkin, the co-owner of The Other Change of Hobbit in Berkeley
had come out to New York to work for a year with Beth Meacham, who was
the well-overworked editor of Tor at the time. But Debbie had only promised
to come out for a year. So as she prepared to depart, I wound up doing
more in-house work at Tor and more or less taking over her job full-time.
So I really date my full-time presence at Tor from right after the 1988
Worldcon, when this all started. I was initially hired by Beth Meacham
as an administrative editor, and was promoted a couple of times and
was made a senior editor two or three years later. Some years after
that I took on the title of Manager of Science Fiction and Fantasy,
which basically what I do.
We don't really have strong genre divisions inside the staff of Tor
and Forge. We don't even have "Tor editors" and "Forge editors." We
are a unitary publishing company. We do a variety of different kinds
of books, and we put whatever imprints on the books we think are appropriate
and useful for selling them. Certainly we have editors who do more mysteries
and thrillers than other kinds of books, and we have editors (me included)who
do a lot more science fiction and fantasy than other kinds of books,
but I don't think there's anybody at Tor and Forge who is a complete
purist. The only two people who have publishing-category, genre-specific
jobs at Tor, in fact, are myself, who has in addition to handling my
own list, the overall task of sheepdogging all the science fiction and
fantasy efforts of all the many editors; and Melissa Singer, who does
something fairly similar over on the mainstream side of the house. It
tells you everything you need to know about Tor and Forge, that I think
we are the only publishing company in New York that talks unselfconsciously
inside our own staff meetings about "the mainstream side of the house."
As I think we all know, mainstream is a term that's evolved inside science
fiction.
DS: You have a wide variety of editors who acquire books. What
happens next? Do you all have to agree on a book, or does the individual
editor just have to convince Tom Doherty?
PNH: No, we don't have an editorial board meeting every week.
Thank God. That was something Tom hated at the other publishing companies
he worked for. I remember those kinds of meetings at the Doubleday Book
Club when I worked for the Enclosures program of the Literary Guild.
There is something to be said for that and it is not a totally invalid
way of structuring a publishing company, but those things can turn into
a kind of cockpit of knife-in-the-back politics. They tend to encourage
a kind of beggar-thy-neighbor attitude, where basically everybody views
it as being in their own interest to undermine everybody else's projects.
This is not to say this always happens, but it doesn't happen at Tor
because we don't do it that way.
Although we have had various people with the title of editor-in-chief
-- Harriett MacDougal was editor-in-chief in the early '80s when Tor
was first started and Jim Baen was the science fiction honcho; and I
think Beth Meacham had the title of editor-in-chief in the late '80s;
and we had Bob Gleason was editor-in-chief for a few years in the early
'90s -- by and large, in effect, Tom Doherty has always been his own
editor-in-chief. He is a very editorially hands-on publisher. Tom has
a case of non-sum-dignus about this and will say, "Oh, I'm not really
an editor," but he has a mind like a steel trap when it comes to plot
points and really paying attention to how it works in the experience
of reading a book. I think that just goes to show that marketing and
sales savvy and editorial savvy are really very close to one another
as intellectual skills.
At any rate, we buy the books that editors want to buy and that they
convince Tom to buy. We are so overbought these days that Melissa and
I perform something of a gatekeeper function of basically reminding
Tom and the editor in question just how long it might take to actually
we schedule a book, or that we already own seventeen vampire/Nazi books
and perhaps we need to space out this kind of acquisition. I am making
that up as a variable. We don't actually own any vampire/Nazi books
to my knowledge.
But that's basically the system. It's pretty straightforward. Tom
runs things. We have a fairly flat hierarchy. As we've gotten larger
we have had to put a little bit of depth into that hierarchy. I suspect
this process will continue. In a sense it's a shame. The Tor that I
joined had twelve employees, all on the 29th floor of West 24th St.,
and the walls didn't go all the way to the ceiling. You could literally
sit there quietly in your own office or cubicle and just listen to the
tenor of the company on that afternoon and get a sense of what was going
on everywhere. You really did get that kind of group-telepathy of a
small enterprise. These days we occupy the entire 14th floor of the
Flatiron Building, the walls do go to the ceiling, so there is a lot
more separation and alienation. Nevertheless Tom has always believed
passionately -- I think this stems from the days when he worked at Simon
and Schuster and they actually forbade the editors to talk to the sales
department or the salesmen to talk to the editorial department -- he
has always believed, and I think rightfully so, that this is insane
and has always tried to run things in such a way that encourages a lot
of mixing between departments, because we really are pretty much in
the same business. ((Laughs))
DS: What is the power-relationship between the sales department
and the editorial department. Can the sales department overrule you
and say, "We don't know how to sell that one, don't publish it"?
PNH: I can't say that I've ever felt that I was overruled by
the sales department. There have been times when I had a book that I
wanted to do but I found after talking about it around the house, as
any sensible editor would do before making an acquisition, that I just
couldn't get any editor to imagine doing it. I describe it as being
unable to raise anybody's blood temperature one iota. I happen to be
totally alone. I cases like that I know that I can in fact go to Tom
with the credibility I have and say, "Forget that. I'm going to do this
anyway. It's fabulous. We must do this." But it's not always a great
idea. I will do that if I feel that with time I can actually sell the
house on it.
But my ambition is not to publish every book in the world that I like.
I always tell the story because I know that Jack doesn't mind, but for
a while I was Jack Womack's editor and I worked on Heathern and
I helped bring Ambient back into print. And he submitted his
next book through his agent and that was Random Acts of Senseless
Violence. I loved it, and I could tell from the start that virtually
everything in this book was just not going to work in the Tor of that
time. I think the Tor of today could have published it quite well. But
for the Tor of eight years ago, everything about this book, from its
relentlessly downbeat attitude and everything connected to that, was
just going to make it a complete disaster for Tor. It deserved better.
It's a great book. But I basically passed on this book not because I
didn't like it -- nobody had told me not to publish this book
-- but because for Tor to publish this book would have been a disservice
to the book. I think I was right. It was picked up by Morgan Entrican
((spell this for me --DS)) at Atlantic Monthly Press and it's still
in print.
So I can't think of any instances of the sales department and the
marketing department marching in and saying, "You must not buy this
book." The book-buying decision is usually between the editor and Tom
Doherty.
DS: Then Tom is the one who makes the guess on "Can we actually
sell this?"
PNH: Indeed. The two real power halves of the house, like in
any publishing company, are editorial and marketing. Marketing contains
sales, publicity, marketing per se and so on. But we really do
try to minimize the amount of bureaucratic meetings of the barons. Team
decisions ought to be able to be made without having every self-important
person in the house in the room at the same time. ((Laughs.)) You might
want to cut "self-important," though I am just as guilty as anyone else.
DS: Writers have this paranoid view that there is a great bureaucracy,
or that the ultimate power lies with the buyers for the big bookstore
chains.
PNH: Writers have a lot of reasons to have paranoid views. Writing
is the ultimate paranoia-producing profession. You sit alone in a room
and you brood.... God knows there is a lot of power centralized in the
big bookstore chains. But I've had a lot more experiences of actually
buying something that otherwise seemed marginal because I happened to
know that the bookstore chains had actually had a great experience with
something similar. The buyer in one or the other chain was particularly
friendly toward this kind of material. Again, I can't think of a lot
of instances of being completely vetoed on something. Certainly the
kind of distribution we can expect from chains or ID wholesalers --
the outfits that distribute mass-market paperbacks to non bookstore
outlets, like grocery stores -- or from independent bookstores, is going
to affect what we can offer. Certainly shifts in the market, in the
balance between IDs, chains, and direct independent accounts has changed
what are particularly successful kinds of books. There are certainly
writers who were doing quite well in the late '80s in mass-market and
doing quite well in the ID bookstore, wire-racks, and are not doing
nearly as well these days, now that that's no longer a large part of
the science fiction market. Correspondingly, there are a lot of people
who are more hardcover/trade-paperback authors who are doing much better.
So I can't really think of a scenario in my career that fulfills that
wonderfully paranoid notion of the evil sales-person or the evil bookstore-buyer
just up and vetoing something. We certainly keep in mind what is practical
and what can happen and what is likely to happen. We'd be stupid not
to. That's our job. And once again, us declining to publish a book is
not necessarily the worst thing that can happen to a book. There are
other publishers. There are other publishers who do some things better
than we do. Sometimes the better part of valor for everybody is for
somebody else to do it.
Despite this, we seem to publish half the books in the field.
DS: By way of paranoid scenarios, we have what is informally
known as the Robin Hobb Syndrome. You may be able to confirm how much
of this is true. This is based on the belief that if the bookstore buyers
order ten thousand copies of a book, and it sells eight, they will order
eight thousand next time; and then it sells six, so they order six,
and it sells four, and so on until they finally say "This author doesn't
sell!" So you have to change the byline to fool them and start over,
as Megan Lindholm did when she became Robin Hobb.
PNH: I've seen that happen. I have not seen that happen reliably
enough to say that it always happens. It is amazingly frustrating when
it does happen. It seems like a cycle that some writers get onto. I
think that Megan Lindholm taking on the Robin Hobb name was a great
thing. I was the underbidder on those books. I feel that they were great
books that I should have campaigned for more aggressively. They have
certainly done very well and they're great books, and she's a terrific
writer. So whoever was willing her that second chance, instead of being
ragged on for making Megan Lindholm change her name, somebody needs
to be given some credit for being willing to go to the wall and give
this writer another shot. It worked. It worked very well. There are
more books in the world Megan Lindholm is not a discouraged, not-selling-any-books
writer out there. She is a bestseller.
DS: This suggests several things. For one thing it suggests
that many times a new writer has a better chance than a flatlined established
writer.
PNH: Yes. It's funny you should say that. Just ten months ago,
Gordon Van Gelder walked up to me about a block away from Tor, and said,
"I just told --" some interviewer, I forget who -- "that in fact it
is much easier to buy a first novel than a third one." And I said, "You're
absolutely right." That is, a third novel from somebody whose first
and second novels didn't go anywhere at all. We try to be pretty patient
with these things. A first and second novel that didn't sell spectacular
numbers but got really excited reviews, award-nominations, a buzz –
and we're likely to keep going for a while. We are really seriously
author-oriented. Tom Doherty likes to purchase publishing programs,
not just a book. If we're going to do a first novel, Tom's first question
is usually, "Does this writer have more novels going? How frequently
is he or she going to write?" If all the answers are encouraging, Tom
will frequently say, "Well, let's sign up three." That's a real commitment.
Tom genuinely has the gardening approach to publishing.
DS: I've always told people that publishers don't buy the book;
they buy the upward curve.
PNH: Yes, exactly so.
DS: Which makes a problem for a writer who is, say, fifty-five
or sixty, so, let's say, published stories in Analog in the early
'60s and a couple of paperbacks twenty-five years ago, and then nothing.
My serious advice to a writer like that would be to use a pseudonym
and lie about your age.
PNH: We're just not that bloody methodical. A perfect example
of the kind of writer you're talking about is Pauline Ashwell. And yet
we did a book by her thirty-five years after she was briefly in vogue
in Analog in the early 1960's. It was just because we had an
editor in house, in this case Greg Cox, who was just passionately for
this project.
Tom is a salesman, and I mean this in the best possible sense, in
that he responds very strongly to somebody displaying that they really
care a lot. I think that if Tom thinks, "Well, if there is one person
who cares a hell of a lot and is right here in my office, there is probably
somebody else out there who is going to care about it too; and probably
this editor who cares so much about this weird project is one of the
best people in the world for figuring out who those others are."
This doesn't mean that every one of our books is a commercial success.
We have had complete flops. But just the existence of sincere passion,
the kind of sincerity you can't fake, is a lot of what runs Tor.
DS: There may be another trend we can see in the field right
now that, other than Tor, very few publishers are doing short story
collections. This may well be that the big bookstores can't distinguish
between a short story collection and a novel, and to them a collection
is a badly selling novel, and they will order the author's next novel
accordingly.
PNH: Actually my experience is that the bookstore buyers certainly
can tell the difference and they will drop the numbers on the collection
rather than on the next novel.
DS: Will the numbers go back up for the next novel?
PNH: Generally they will. If we were more economically rational,
it has to be said, we wouldn't publish nearly as many short story collections.
We tend to do single-author story collections once we've got a run going
with the author, when we know we're going to be working with them for
a while, after we already have been working with them for a while. Recently
we did the first story collection by Robert Charles Wilson, and we did
it after doing only two novels by him, which is actually really fast
for us. We do more of them in hardcover than most outfits, and we usually
do a trade paperback after the hardcover these days. They tend to be,
at best, break-even. The exception, obviously, is the collected stories
of Arthur C. Clarke, which we're going to do in February and which is
probably going to sell more than break-even numbers. That's a huge,
950-page omnibus of all the short fiction of Arthur C. Clarke. It was
actually assembled in Britain by Malcolm Edwards. We're the American
reprinter. And I recently signed up the complete short fiction of Greg
Bear, which Greg is now pulling together and writing story intros for.
This is an interesting new model for getting short fiction in print
and keeping it there, these immense, $30, bug-crusher, definitive, complete
collections.
But we urge our sales people to go out with story collections and
say, "This is a story collection. We're not expecting novel numbers."
This puts us in a better position to say, when the next novel comes
along, "Just a reminder. The last book in the computers was a story
collection. Look to the previous book for a good target for the novel."
DS: Is it a situation where the buyers say, "We can only take
ten books from you this month; we'd rather have all novels"?
PNH: Certainly some buyers will skip the story collections.
A lot of them will. Hardcover and trade-paperback publishing is not
like mass-market. You don't have slots. They'll take as many or as few
books as they want to. Anybody who is trying to cut marginal stuff is
probably going to cut story collections. We don't have high expectations
for most story collections. And I feel less and less obligation to support
the world of story collections just because there is so much really
good small-press publishing going on, really professional small-press
publishing going on. I just picked up a copy of Andy Duncan's first
story collection, Beluthahatchie, published by Golden Gryphon
Press. It is just a totally professionally published book. I don't think
we could have done a better job with it and I don't think we could have
sold more copies, frankly, even assuming Andy Duncan had published three
novels with Tor, and he's not published any novels with anyone.
DS: I note the movement away from mass-market into trade paperback
for a lot of science fiction. Does this mean we're going for a tiny,
upscale, elite audience and abandoning the mass audience?
PNH: I don't know how much we want to get into the whole wretched
history of modern mass-market category fiction publishing. The fact
of the matter is that we've had this enormous collapse and consolidation
in the world of mass-market paperback and magazine distribution. This
is the whole world of selling paperback books in outlets other than
bookstores. This has nothing to do with the independents versus chains.
This is, most significantly, those huge, 144-copy wire racks in Targets
and Wallmarts and Safeway and so on. Science fiction and fantasy used
to have an established chunk of turf in those places, and for a whole
bunch of reasons which I'm not going to go into in enormous detail,
the category itself, not just individual publishers, doesn't really
have that claim anymore. There's an enormous amount of pressure on those
slots and what few distributors are left are tending to fill them up
with that genre known as Bestsellers, which does not include most of
your stuff. So, as a result, though the field still publishes tons of
"mass-market paperbacks," for most publishers the overwhelming majority
of those copies are distributed into the direct market, into the bookstore
market.
It used to be like fifty-fifty. Take your typical midlist science
fiction paperback by a not-incredibly famous writer, but a decent writer,
say, a new Jack Vance book. I'm going to make up some numbers. Fifteen
years ago, you might ship 75,000, maybe 90,000 copies, and seventy percent
of those would be into the ID market, which had a worse return rate
because the books only sat out on those wire racks for a few days. But
it still pumped up your copy count, and even selling one third of that
one half of your distribution was a lot of sales, and quickly. Now that
same book will probably distribute fewer than half that number and almost
entirely to bookstores, chains and independents, with a better return
rate.
But at then low end of that, you're seeing allegedly mass-market paperbacks
in science fiction, from newer writers, from writers with small audiences,
and so forth, you're getting print-runs -- not at Tor, but I've heard
from other mass-market companies -- of nine thousand copies or twelve
thousand copies. These are not <MI>mass<D>-market numbers.
Despite the fact that the covers are stripable, they're really trade
paperbacks with a small trim size and an insanely generous return scheme,
where we don't even get the whole copy back. We just get the torn-off
cover or an affidavit. So a lot of people are saying, "Wait a minute.
If we're only going to get out nine thousand copies, maybe they should
be nine thousand trade paperbacks." It'll be a much better return for
the author. And the one thing about trade paperbacks is that they don't
go into ID at all, by and large.
But they do tend to sit on shelves longer. Bookstores like them. They
get a better return per inch of shelf space for a trade paperback. And
if you print your trade paperbacks on acid-free paper as we do, instead
of the pulpy, yellowing stuff, they will last longer as physical objects
on the shelf. A lot of them will stand up to being reshipped after they've
been returned from one company. This is the whole rationale of the Orb
backlist line, and it is the rationale of much of the frontlist trade-paperback
publishing we do.
The main reason we are doing more trade paperbacks is that there are
fewer rack slots available for science fiction and fantasy. We have
this immense and very successful hardcover list, but this hardcover
list generates far more titles than we can possibly absorb in mass-market
paperback. We could practically get out to the existing ID plus direct
market maybe five science fiction titles a month. If you just
look at our list you will see, right off the bat, that we are doing
more than five, considerably more than five original science fiction
and fantasy hardcovers every month. Now, short of coming up with a thirteenth
and a fourteenth month of the year -- we actually managed a thirteen-month
year a couple years ago because slipped our schedule around, but we
can't do that every year. ((Laughs.)) Given that mass-market paperbacks
are distributed on a monthly basis -- that's pretty much written in
stone from the fact that the whole system is built on the back of magazine
publishing -- we have to come up with other ways of doing it. Some of
our trade paperbacks have done very well, and some less well.
In general fiction, look back twenty years. Look at an author like
Gore Vidal, a bestselling author, not a transcendent bestseller, not
a Stephen King or a Danielle Steele, but a significant author, much
reviewed, much respected, books made into movies, new book always a
big event, and so forth and so on. The absolutely classic publishing
pattern for Gore Vidal was, twenty years ago, a new novel like Creation
would come out in hardcover. A year later it would come out as a mass=market
paperback. It would be everywhere as a mass-market paperback. These
days Gore Vidal is just as popular. His hardcovers sell just as many
if not more copies, and a year later it's a trade paperback. There's
not even a <MI>thought<D> of doing it as mass-market. If
you look at his backlist on the shelves today, you will see old Vidal
titles, which are rapidly yellowing, and they're gradually being replaced
by their publisher bringing them back out as trade paperbacks. And the
new stuff is going straight into trade paperback. So this is the pattern
all over serious fiction publishing, so it is not at all surprising
to see something like that going on in science fiction and fantasy as
well.
Some people, in fact, are doing very well. We have a whole lot of
Charles de Lint backlist in trade paperback. Moonheart continues
to sell in trade paperback like there's no tomorrow. Of course there
are phenomenal trade-paperback successes like The Mists of Avalon
which go on forever. It's never had a mass-market paperback edition,
but it has sold a million trade paperbacks. That's of course off the
scale.
But we are hardly alone in this. I think all the science fiction and
fantasy publishers are trying to pick the trade-paperback lock. Of we
get readers who complain, "I built all my shelves for my SF and fantasy
paperbacks to mass-market size and you bastards are . . ." to which
we say, well, the option is, in most of these cases, either we're going
to do the book in hardcover and trade paperback, or we're not going
to do the book. We're trying to figure out how to make minimal margins
here. We're not getting rich, for crying out loud. The existence of
the trade paperback format and the fact that some people like it --
certainly the chains like it -- has enabled us to bring back into print
a lot of really cool stuff that would otherwise be sitting out there
either in out-of-print or small-press land. It's really fuelled the
Orb line. It has enabled us to do really good but commercially oddball,
marginal books like Damon Knight's Humpty Dumpty, which was a
Tor hardcover and a Tor trade paperback. I could name tons of stuff.
I don't want to sound like I'm saying these books' authors should
be grovellingly grateful for our beneficence. In fact it's an unjust
and terrible world. I think that Damon Knight's Humpty Dumpty
should sell a million copies. But we're doing our best and staying alive.
DS: What does this imply for the field, or for literacy as a
whole? The United States is a country with a population of about 230
million, and selling 9000 copies sold is regarded as good. That suggests
a reading public the size of Liechtenstein.
PNH: That's not true. What we really have is an immense explosion
of options, so that no individual thing is selling nearly as well as
the mass-market phenomena of the past. The Gallup Organization has done
all these surveys of America's reading habits and established conclusively
that despite all the cocktail-party cliches about literacy being on
the decline, in fact most Americans are buying more books and reading
more books and talking about more books, and generally being more bookish
on an overwhelming level than ever before. It's all classes of Americans.
It's not just computer books or self-help books or cat books. We're
in an absolute commercial explosion of literary publishing. You couldn't
have supported a Barnes & Noble the size of Rhode Island at every
other suburban intersection thirty years ago. People would have looked
at what we have now with these giant chain superstores and thought that
they'd died and gone to book heaven.
The explosion of publishing, buying, and reading in modern America
is really quite phenomenal. There are a whole lot of other things involved,
including really quite silly things, including the fact that fifty years
ago people would get older sooner, and their eyesight would start failing
them, and in the natural course of things they'd say, "Well, I just
don't read as much as I used to." They'd be a little vain and hung-up
about wearing glasses. Nobody cares about that anymore. You either get
eye correction or you wear glasses. Nobody feels self-conscious about
wearing glasses, or if they do they just wear contacts. So you have
a lot more people continuing to read recreationally into middle age.
This is all nicely laid out statistically in this endless series of
Gallup polls. I get this all from Tom Doherty who has it all in binders
in this office.
I'm going to integrate some of the observations of Tom Doherty with
those of Paul Williams, the rock critic, who basically points out that
the big difference between music today and music in the mid-'60s is
that we no longer have that culturally central hit parade. You don't
have the songs and the albums that absolutely everyone is listening
to whether they like it or not. We have this enormous explosion of niches
with very specific tastes they cater to, which is an enormous increase
in that great American value of choice, but it also means that individual
art objects are all likely to have somewhat smaller sales, with a few
notable exceptions.
So, no, I don't think that selling 9000 hardcovers or 9000 trade paperbacks
is all that terrible. I actually think it's a whole lot better than
selling nothing. A world in which five hundred people can be published
science fiction and fantasy writers is a very different world from one
in which thirty-five or seventy-five people were making a living writing
science fiction and fantasy. I think the chances of actually becoming
seriously affluent off the field are about the same. What you do have
however, is an arithmetically larger number of people who feel they
ought to be doing just a little bit better and who grumble at each other
in the bar. This is perfectly human.
DS: How do you avoid the pressure -- as some other publishers have
clearly succumbed -- to let your line be taken over by media tie-ins,
sharecrops, franchises of authors who may or may not be dead and little
else?
PNH: We haven't avoided that at all. What are you talking about?
((Laughs.)) If anybody wants to offer us the Star Trek publishing program,
we are there!((Laughs.))
DS: But you wouldn't let it take over your whole line.
PNH: Well, no. Of course not. At least those of us who are Tor
are still Tor... Tom is a lifelong science fiction fan. He's not going
to stop publishing the authors he likes. But, good grief -- we've just
signed up the second Dune trilogy by Kevin Anderson and Brian Herbert.
Bantam is doing the first one. We do a lot of media tie-ins. Greg Cox
is our specialist for the tie-in stuff. We're doing the tie-in series
for the Cable TV show Gene Roddenberry's Earth: The Final Conflict.
We have one novel by Fred Saberhagen, one by James White, one by Deborah
Doyle and Jim McDonald, one coming up from Sherwood Smith. It's ironic
that James White's last novel was his Earth: the Final Conflict
novel, which he was delighted to do. I suggested him to Jim Frenkel,
who was editing the series, because I knew that White had always really,
really wanted to be asked to write a Star Trek novel, because in a sense
the Sector General books were Star Trek before there was Star Trek.
There was this humane, kind of liberal series all set in a big spacecraft,
problem stories. Everything that's good about Star Trek was in the Sector
General books. I like Sector General more than I like Star Trek, but
I'm more of a written-SF fan than I ever was a visual-SF fan.
But if there's some kind of credit being given out for remaining simon-pure
and not doing tie-ins and franchises, we don't get any of it. We haven't
been first in line to grab some things like Star Wars and Star Trek,
but we'd be happy to if someone wanted to offer them to us. But off
and on, through a series of contracts, and then pausing during lacunae
in the contracts, we've been doing Conan forever. That's pretty much
the same thing. It looks like we're going to be back in the Conan business.
DS: I guess what I'm talking about is a subjective impression.
As a book reviewer I will receive a monthly box from publisher X, and
it will contain one original novel, one reprint, two TV tie-ins, and
two other franchise books of some sort. This gives me the impression
that, in the sense of opportunities for writers of original material,
publisher X is now doing two books a month, not six.
PNH: One of the things Tom is good at is manipulating the whole
ID system. I've always joked that the reason nobody can quite get a
handle on what's a Tor book and what's a Forge book is that Tom comes
up with a different answer every time. He's trying to keep people guessing
so he can have maximum flexibility, which will enable him to do as many
books as possible. It is definitely evident in the whole tie-in thing.
We are locked in, I won't say with cast-iron, but with really, really
sturdy foam rubber, into two science fiction mass-market paperbacks
and two fantasy mass-market paperbacks a month. Those are almost always
reprints of something we did in hardcover a year earlier. Plus, we can
usually get away with one more, maybe two more mass-market specials.
Anything that is a media tie-in is a special. It doesn't replace
an existing book. It doesn't take up a slot that would otherwise be
used to reprint a novel by Pat Murphy or L.E. Modesitt or Orson Scott
Card or Terry Bisson. It's an add-on to the list. I think that's a really
rational way to do it. The Conan books are extra to the list. Tor has
never published a Conan book instead of an actual reprint of one of
our -- I hate to say "serious" because it sounds so snobbish – one of
our non-media-tie-in, non-franchise books.
DS: This gets back to what I suppose you could call Paranoid
Author Tricks... by which I mean that a lot of people feel that the
field is imploding, that there are fewer places to send a novel manuscript,
fewer niches open for original material. What is your reading of the
health of the field in that regard right now?
PNH: I don't know. I'm too far into the belly of the beast.
I hear this sort of grumbling too. It's very hard for me to reconcile
this sense that the field is imploding with the fact that I'm the guy
who has to make up the schedule for science fiction and fantasy publishing
on an ongoing basis . . . in fact the pile of paper right there ((points))
is tons of schedule work that I have to do over this weekend. And, I
can count. We're doing more books every month, every season, every year
than ever before. We're still growing in the number of books we do.
So if it's imploding into a black hole, then we're the white hole at
the other end where it's all winding up. ((Laughs.))
We can't publish every book in the field, and we have done books that
we shouldn't have done and have done a bad job on, and so forth. We've
had our share of failures, but we don't feel like science fiction and
fantasy publishing is diminishing in its possibilities. Far from it.
From where we stand, it looks like we are better able to do more and
more all the time.
DS: Here's something for those paranoid authors out there. If
a book has been turned down by one Tor editor, doesn't that pretty much
settle it for Tor, that the manuscript cannot be sent to another one?
PNH: Yes, but remember that there are Tor editors and then there
are people who consult for Tor. Perhaps we should go into the somewhat
complex structure of Tor's editorial department; but the fact of the
matter is that, yeah, if you or your agent has sent a book in to one
of our in-house editors, to me, or to Beth Meacham, who is an in-house
editor even though she works in Tucson, David Hartwell, Clare Eddy,
Jenna Felice, Melissa Singer, Jim Minz, etc. etc., we do not want you
shopping it around from editor to editor. There have been times when
through a series of weird circumstances one of our editors has bought
something that has been turned down by another one. I don't want to
set up some kind of cast-iron rule that prevents us from doing something
that seems like the right thing to do. There are exceptions to everything,
but we really don't want you to go shopping from editor to editor, because
it's a big waste of time.
On the other hand, there people out there like Jim Frenkel, who does
a lot of consulting for Tor, to Delia Sherman who does a little bit,
for whom turning down a book isn't so much a reflection of "I think
this is bad for Tor" as "I'm not going to take this on. I'm a consultant.
I work for Tor on a project-by-project basis and this isn't something
I want to do." In that case, I have no objection to it being shown to
somebody else.
We're not cops. I have a lot of other things to do rather than run
around monitoring the exact details of everybody's submissions pile.
But I will say that it is not a great way to win friends and influence
people to overtly try to game the system by just bouncing from editor
to editor. And it's not very effective. If I'm looking at something
that might be promising and the first thing I hear about it is that
my colleague Clare Eddy turned it down, that is not a plus.
DS: I am sure there must be a couple of ghastly manuscripts
which must remain unnamed, which everybody has seen with a sense of,
"Oh you got that one now? I guess it's your turn."
PNH: Sure. That's true in the rest of publishing as well.
DS: Why does Tor need so many editors and consultants?
PNH: The consulting structure, to some extent, is just an expression
of Tom Doherty's desire to have a really great intake-scoop. Tom doesn't
want to miss out on good stuff just because it doesn't happen to ring
the chimes of a relatively finite number of in-house people. It's a
scouting networks, almost, except we want to work with people who are
also capable of copy-writing, the editorial side of the art direction,
and so forth. Each of the consulting editors have somebody in-house
who is not their assistant but their tracker. It is usually one of the
younger editors, somebody like Jim Minz, like John Klima, my assistant,
or Jenna Felice. It's good training for the younger editors, keeping
track of their consultant's list, hustling them into meeting all their
deadlines, but also making sure that all the t's get crossed and the
i's get dotted. They make sure that the necessary information gets passed
on to marketing so that they know something about these books, so that
when there's some kind of screaming sales emergency, "Who can tell me
about such-and-such," there will be somebody in-house who can. And the
system is not perfect. I've seen it fall down completely, the information
equivalent of attenuated long lines of supply. Sometimes it really does
work better for an author to be handle in-house even if they were brought
to us by a consulting editor. But by and large it works surprisingly
well. It has been an enormous part of what has made us such a diverse
line.
DS: One thing I've never done is edit books. So I wonder, how
many manuscripts do you get a day, how much time do you actually get
to read anything, and so forth. I know from my experience as an agent
that mystery editors tend to respond faster than science fiction editors,
but for all I know SF editors are faced with a Great Wall of Slushpile
boxes. So how do you handle submissions? Is a manuscript immediately
farmed out to a reader?
PNH: Different editors handle it differently. I have my own
list in addition to being manager of the overall Tor fantasy and science
fiction effort, and complicating matters a little more, Teresa Neilsen
Hayden and I work together as, in effect, co-editors on a number of
authors. Authors that I've worked with directly, or that Teresa and
I have worked with, include Buzz Aldrin, Poul Anderson, John Barnes,
Greg Bear, Ben Bova, Steven Brust, Emma Bull, Jonathan Carroll, Raphael
Carter, Arthur C. Clarke & Stephen Baxter, Glen Cook, Charles de
Lint, Jack Dann & Jack C. Haldeman, Gordon R. Dickson, Debra Doyle
& James D. Macdonald, Esther Friesner, John M. Ford, Terry Goodkind,
Harry Harrison, Graham Joyce, Damon Knight, Ellen Kushner, Shariann
Lewitt, Jane Lindskold, Ken MacLeod, Maureen R. McHigh, Laura J. Mixon,
Linda Nagata, Susan Palwick, Christopher Priest, Madeleine Robins, Frank
Robinson, Mike Resnick, Judith Tarr, Harry Turtledove, Jo Walton, Lawrence
Watt-Evans, James White, Robert Charles Wilson, Terri Windling, Jack
Womack, and Jane Yolen. I'm probably leaving some people out.
All the submissions, which include all the stuff sent generically
to the science fiction department (because I am the name that Writer's
Digest lists), all get processed by my assistant, who does give
it a good expert glance to see if it's something I need to look at right
away, or whether it's something that's unusually promising. Everything
is looked at eventually, at some point. It goes through a winnowing
process. I don't get real involved in processing over-the-transom slush,
by and large. My assistant is very good at noticing if something is
actually being sent to me by somebody I know, although we have had embarrassing
circumstances of my telling someone, "Yes, send that to me," and them
sending it in and getting it bounced back with a rejection slip before
it ever got to my desk. I think this happens at every publishing house.
It is just an expression of human fallibility. Personally, behind the
wall of my assistants, I usually have two or three dozen promising,
intriguing things from unpublished or not-very-published writers stacked
up behind my desk, which I will get to in an amount of time ranging
from a couple of weeks to, I am afraid, sometimes as long as a year,
which I'm embarrassed about. It is usually more like three to six months.
In addition to that, though, much more importantly, I usually have at
least a half-dozen more books that were actually contracted for and
delivered and on which I am several weeks late in actually getting out
reasonable responses. Also there are usually at least six to a dozen
really significant submissions, often multiple-submissions for auctions
from major agents like Russ Galen or Shawna McCarthy or whomever, of
established authors who would like to move to Tor.
So that's what my work-load is like at any given time. And what do
I have here in this hotel room? Just the stuff I brought to this convention
to work with include as follows: I have a partial of about 300 pages
from Linda Nagata. This is a book that's actually under contract that
she's not done with, but she and her agent have asked me to read what
she has so far. I am glad to do it. I'm enjoying it a lot. I've got,
let's see, the blue box is a delivered novel by Madeline Robbins, who
is somebody I'm already publishing. We published her first fantasy novel,
and this is the next one. That's a book that's bought and paid for and
I've bloody well got to read it. Of course she is a friend of mine,
so she gets even more delay. ((Laughs.)) And the box above that is a
novel -- I am not going to name people we haven't actually done a deal
with -- by a known writer. I don't think this writer has sold a novel
anywhere, but I have seen stories. This unpublished novel was raved
about to me by Charles and Mary Ann De Lint, so I wrote and said, "Hey,
I'd love to see this thing that the De Lints seem to think so highly
of." I've got it with me and it does look quite good. And what else
I have kicking around is a bunch of Starlight stories -- Oh,
and in addition, I have just taken over being Terry Goodkind's editor,
so I am going through his entire ouvre. I am in the middle of Wizard's
Rule. That's a major piece of reading.
So, there you go. That's a pretty typical workload, a pretty typical
amount of stuff I bring to a convention. I will probably get through
about half of that at this convention.
DS: How often does it really happen that something really does
come in out of the blue, a writer you've never heard of who is really
good, like Jonathan Carroll coming out of nowhere in 1980?
PNH: Not often enough. Those are the moments you live for. It
happened for me with Maureen McHugh. Although M.F. McHugh had sold a
couple stories to Asimov's, I hadn't noticed them. I haven't
been as assiduous about reading the magazines as I ought to be. So
Mountain Zhangwas in the general, this-might-be-promising slush,
and we were having a slush party. Beth tossed me a manuscript and I
read the first four pages of it and I said, "Holy shit! This is not
just good but great!" ((Laughs.)) So I just took it home and
read it. It was the first novel I bought that I had to consider. That
was early on in my career at Tor and it was a great energizing experience.
A real, out-of-the-blue thing was Raphael Carter's The Fortunate
Fall. It was a first novel, submitted to me by Valerie Smith, whom
I've done a lot of work with. Apparently, on the writing discusion group
on Fidonet, Raphael had been known to several of the established writers,
like Pat Wrede and Pamela Dean, as a very promising newcomer, which
is how Raphael got hooked up to Val Smith. But I didn't know any of
this, so this nearly perfect science fiction novel, a minor classic,
just showed up fully formed. Again, that was fabulous. I am very proud
to have published that. So it happens every once in a while. I bought
a first novel from a completely unknown writer named Stephen Zelinsky,
whose work Teresa found in our slushpile. It's a great, wacky, Tim-Powersish
(although darker and more violent), strange conspiracy-occult fantasy,
which we will be publishing in about a year. It's called Bad Magic.
He lives in the Bay Area. He is delighted to be published and was just
writing as a hobby, and it's a really fabulous book. So it happens but
it doesn't happen often enough. You must have some experience with this
editing a magazine.
DS: A magazine is very different because the manuscripts are
short. If we got two-hundred booksful of stories a month, I can't imagine
how we'd be able to devote enough time to anything.
PNH: I am not actually a very fast reader. The sheer heavy-lifting
of keeping up with all that reading has always been one of my Achilles'
heels. But I sort of stagger through it and try to make up for my slownesses
on being an actual manuscript reader by being good at other things.
Part of the problem is that not only am I not an incredibly fast reader,
but I don't usually have my most insightful comments in the first five
seconds. I have to kind of chew on things. But figuring out how to organize
my time so I will be less incredibly slow, both on the novels and doing
Starlight is something I have focussed on in the last several
months.
It's difficult to distinguish the standard editorial whine of "I'm
so behind, I'm so behind," from "Holy Shit! This is a real problem."
I am actually screwing up the careers of people I care about, like most
of my authors. ((Laughs.)) So I am working on it. I don't like being
behind all the time. I need to find ways to offload some of the less
relevant work and really focus on this stuff, which is what I'd rather
be doing anyway.
DS: Does a book editor have time to instruct a prospective writer,
to nurse somebody along who isn't quite there yet? Magazine editors
can do this. But can a book editor do it?
PNH: Various of us try in several ways. I tend to talk with
authors about the overall direction of the book. I am not the best hands-on,
super-detail editor I can think of. I think I have a pretty good capacity
for appreciating what the author is trying to do and echoing it back
to them, helping them focus their own thinking. My wife Teresa is a
really good get-in-there-and-wrestle-with-the-text editor. She writes
dynamite ten-page editorial letters, although it takes her a long time.
So she has contracted a really good relationship with several writers
she and I work with, based on that sort of thing. Everybody is better
and worse at certain things.
For some authors, being their editor basically means being sympathetic
to what they're trying to do and helping to expedite it as smoothly
as possible. Some authors come to miss being really grappled with and
say, "You're not editing me ferociously enough." I'll try to oblige
them. Sometimes they mean it.
Sometimes it turns out that they didn't.
DS: We can't mention names, but surely there are some authors
who can't be editing and should be.
PNH: Oh, yes. My devotion to the cause of good editing is not
so great that I am going to alienate people who are huge bestsellers
just because I think that input from glorious me might have made a difference.
Editorial feedback is available to any author I work with. If they don't
want it and the books are pretty good anyway and they seem to have an
audience, I am not going to fire them because they refused to listen
to my brilliant comments. After all, they're the author. It's their
name on the book.
I do disapprove, when I see it, of editors just throwing something
into the pipeline without any kind of pause for reflection, just for
commercial advantage. This is not to say we've never committed that
sin, but it's a sin. One of the things I've been noticing rather grumpily
as that authors will sell North American rights to North American publishers
like, for instance, us, and British rights to a British publisher; and
there are honorable exceptions, but overall, he said with great chauvinistic
nationalist prejudice, British publishing seems to have a tendency to
grab the damn book and throw it into print with practically no editing
whatsoever, and to do it as quickly as possible so as to beat us to
the punch in the open market in those European English-language sales
where we share territory. Often you'll see major works coming out months
and months earlier in Britain, and, frankly, these are works that could
have benefitted from, not so much some mythical Max Perkins sitting
down and writing every sentence -- I mean, it's not the editor's book;
it's the author's book -- but just some conversation and reflection.
You know: "I really liked what your doing in this section, but I kept
feeling that this ought to have happened," or "This character
ought to be having this reaction a little more clearly." That sort of
conversation. When you're trying to get a book published in six months,
there just isn't time for that. This happens in some American and in
a lot of British science fiction publishing lately.
DS: Considering we're largely addressing an audience of authors,
would you say that the future at Tor and elsewhere is bright, or is
this a time to pull in belts?
PNH: God, I don't know. I know that as Tom keeps insisting and
as seems to be statistically born out, that there seem to be more people
who want to read recreationally and are willing to put money down to
do so than ever before. We don't feel that science fiction and fantasy
are contracting for us. On the other hand, it has to be admitted that
for a big outfit like Harper-Collins or Bertlesman, science fiction
and fantasy is a small amount of the thing they do, whereas we're a
small company that's more rooted emotionally in science fiction and
fantasy. So of course we do cut it a lot more slack and go out of our
way to make it work. I guess that's good and bad.
A lot of people seem to be making at least a reasonable living at
it. We seem to be managing to publish a reasonably large and diverse
list. It is after all the largest science fiction and fantasy list of
any single publisher, in the English language, in history and have been
for about five years. I don't think we sell the largest number of copies.
I think that Del Rey probably beats us all hollow there. They've got
Tolkien, for instance. But we're definitely not very far behind. We
have our own immense, best-selling type authors, like Terry Goodkind
and Robert Jordan. In science fiction there's Orson Scott Card.
We're making money. A lot of our authors seem to be making money.
There seem to be readers out there. There are a hell of a lot of structural
problems in the bookselling industry. There are problems for independent
booksellers. One of the things that concerns me the most, frankly, isn't
that we're losing sales because of the readjustment of ID, the consolidization
of the ID market, but rather that -- Tom Doherty points this out frequently
-- those wire racks in grocery stores have been where kids who grow
up in families that are not bookish get their first exposure to affordable
books. Everybody goes to the grocery store. But the grocery-store racks
disappear as the grocery-store manager quite reasonably says, "Why should
I have this when there's a Barnes & Noble the size of Rhode Island
across the street?" or those racks become less diverse. The books put
into them by the local wholesaler are what is called Famous Author Distribution,
a column of Stephen King, a column of Richard North Patterson, etc.
So we're not getting that. We love the huge chains from a publishing
standpoint, because they are very supportive of science fiction overall,
and we like really smart, independent booksellers who are supportive
of science fiction. We're less enthusiastic at the sort of independent
booksellers who seem to turn their noses up at science fiction. But
all of those bookstores are selling books to people who are conversant
with books. The good news is that more and more Americans see themselves
as regular book-buyers, and are regular book-buyers. Literacy is not
anywhere near the minority-niche sort of thing that it used to be. The
general popular consumption of fiction for recreation, despite what
you'll hear from intellectuals in New York City, is hugely growing.
But we're not reaching as deeply into the rest of society as we used
to do with the ID market. That does concern me.
If there is a literate elite in our culture, it is hugely bigger than
the core intellectual fashion would have it as being, but there is an
extent to which bookselling, and category bookselling certainly, is
more a matter of intense cultivation of that elite than reaching out
beyond its borders.
Whether authors should pull in their belts, I don't know. I think
people should tell stories that they're absolutely passionately committed
to and obsessed with. The answer to the question that I'm always asked
of "What are you looking for?" is almost always, "I am looking for the
absolutely fabulous thing that I haven't thought of yet."
DS: Thank you, Patrick.