his work is established once and for all, do you think that there might be more unfinished work, unpublished stories from his early writing life that we can lay our hands on?” Gabrijela asks.
“Even if something existed, why would Seppi’s people give it to us?” Zach asks. “They are still upset with us for not giving up any of the rights in the quartet to them. They will merely sell it on to the highest bidder.”
“Can we help them reach a settlement? Lubricate the works, become the mediator?” Sir William says, looking grave. “If we don’t do something soon, we might not be able to hold off Globish.”
Zach shudders inwardly; Globish is the least well regarded among the Big Seven publishers and with good reason. The youngest and smallest of the publishing giants, Globish is also the fastest growing thanks to the ambitions of Greg Holmes, the Californian software billionaire who owns it, and Mortimer Weaver, the latest in a series of CEOs who have been charged with making it the largest and mostprofitable English language trade publishing company in the world. There’s nothing wrong with the goals the Globish bosses have set for themselves, except that their strategy to achieve them has little to do with the quality and brilliance of the company’s publishing. Their method of growing the business is primarily through acquisition and cost cutting, with scant regard for editors and authors; if Litmus was swallowed by them Zach has no doubt he will be one of the first casualties of the takeover. He looks around the boardroom table at the chairman, at Gabrijela, at Olive, and at the two external directors present, and realizes they are not the enemy, they are as concerned about the future as he is and not just because of the looming threat of a takeover by Globish. It is because as the world of publishing spins on its axis, once, twice, three times, a hundred, they have no idea of what it will take to survive and thrive in a world that they do not recognize and do not have the skills to manage. Apple. Amazon. Google. Digital content. DRM. Ereaders. Pricing models. Royalty rates. Marketing to consumers. Readers who would like content for free. Writers who must produce a strange hybrid that is part text, part music, part moving pictures with multiple endings and enough carny tricks to satisfy the semi-literate reader … These are just some of the things they will need to take in their stride, see as opportunities rather than death blows, and given the publishing traditions that have shaped them it would be astonishing if they didn’t feel threatened. As they dance, dance on the knife-edge of survival, they know everything they do will only be pushing the day of reckoning a little further into the future. Is it any wonder thatthe majority want to cut and run? For how long will Gabrijela be able to persuade them to remain on board?
He has managed to avoid Mandy for eight days now, but he has finally run out of excuses and agreed to meet her at Ronnie Scott’s on the weekend. On the appointed day, he turns up a little earlier than he had intended and heads to the upstairs bar.
Half an hour later, he sees her enter the room dressed all in black – black sleeveless top, black skirt, black boots – and festooned with about seven hundred chains around her neck. Her hair, which she dyes a different shade every three months, is now strawberry blonde with black highlights. He takes in her tattoos, an eagle on the left bicep and a vaguely Manichean figure on the right, and thinks it’s funny how everything you thrill to when you are in the first throes of an infatuation turns muddy when the fire is banked. As he gets up to kiss her he wonders whether this relationship would have stood a chance even if his need to get back with Julia had not been so compelling. He admires some things about her, especially the way she in which she has supported her two younger sisters after her father died and her mother remarried,
“Even if something existed, why would Seppi’s people give it to us?” Zach asks. “They are still upset with us for not giving up any of the rights in the quartet to them. They will merely sell it on to the highest bidder.”
“Can we help them reach a settlement? Lubricate the works, become the mediator?” Sir William says, looking grave. “If we don’t do something soon, we might not be able to hold off Globish.”
Zach shudders inwardly; Globish is the least well regarded among the Big Seven publishers and with good reason. The youngest and smallest of the publishing giants, Globish is also the fastest growing thanks to the ambitions of Greg Holmes, the Californian software billionaire who owns it, and Mortimer Weaver, the latest in a series of CEOs who have been charged with making it the largest and mostprofitable English language trade publishing company in the world. There’s nothing wrong with the goals the Globish bosses have set for themselves, except that their strategy to achieve them has little to do with the quality and brilliance of the company’s publishing. Their method of growing the business is primarily through acquisition and cost cutting, with scant regard for editors and authors; if Litmus was swallowed by them Zach has no doubt he will be one of the first casualties of the takeover. He looks around the boardroom table at the chairman, at Gabrijela, at Olive, and at the two external directors present, and realizes they are not the enemy, they are as concerned about the future as he is and not just because of the looming threat of a takeover by Globish. It is because as the world of publishing spins on its axis, once, twice, three times, a hundred, they have no idea of what it will take to survive and thrive in a world that they do not recognize and do not have the skills to manage. Apple. Amazon. Google. Digital content. DRM. Ereaders. Pricing models. Royalty rates. Marketing to consumers. Readers who would like content for free. Writers who must produce a strange hybrid that is part text, part music, part moving pictures with multiple endings and enough carny tricks to satisfy the semi-literate reader … These are just some of the things they will need to take in their stride, see as opportunities rather than death blows, and given the publishing traditions that have shaped them it would be astonishing if they didn’t feel threatened. As they dance, dance on the knife-edge of survival, they know everything they do will only be pushing the day of reckoning a little further into the future. Is it any wonder thatthe majority want to cut and run? For how long will Gabrijela be able to persuade them to remain on board?
He has managed to avoid Mandy for eight days now, but he has finally run out of excuses and agreed to meet her at Ronnie Scott’s on the weekend. On the appointed day, he turns up a little earlier than he had intended and heads to the upstairs bar.
Half an hour later, he sees her enter the room dressed all in black – black sleeveless top, black skirt, black boots – and festooned with about seven hundred chains around her neck. Her hair, which she dyes a different shade every three months, is now strawberry blonde with black highlights. He takes in her tattoos, an eagle on the left bicep and a vaguely Manichean figure on the right, and thinks it’s funny how everything you thrill to when you are in the first throes of an infatuation turns muddy when the fire is banked. As he gets up to kiss her he wonders whether this relationship would have stood a chance even if his need to get back with Julia had not been so compelling. He admires some things about her, especially the way she in which she has supported her two younger sisters after her father died and her mother remarried,
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