"There Are Things I Want You to Know" About Stieg Larsson and Me by Eva Gabrielsson Page A
Authors: Eva Gabrielsson
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brown-paper-wrapped package containing the manuscript of the first volume of
The Millennium Trilogy
, which Stieg had sent off during the summer to Piratförlaget, Sweden’s third-largest publishing house. “They didn’t even go pick it up!” I added.
Stieg was bewildered. “But when I called them that day,
they
were the ones who asked me to send it.…”
“We’re not giving up! Call them back and tell them I’ll deliver it to them myself.”
A few days later I set out in the rain for Gamla Stan, theold quarter of Stockholm, with the manuscript wrapped in the same brown paper. A big chunk of book. And I know what I’m talking about: some nights when I used to lie on my bed exhausted after a busy day, pen in hand, with the latest version of the text propped up on my chest, I would doze off … and the whole thing would smack me right in the face!
I delivered the package to a pleasant blonde and was able to assure Stieg that it was now on someone’s desk.
But there was no further news. Several weeks went by before Stieg decided to call, only to learn that Piratförlaget wasn’t interested.
“Too bad,” I announced. “Your book is great, it’ll be published someday, and since those people don’t seem to know where the post office is, I’m going to go get the book back right now!”
AFTER STIEG’S ritual “Anybody home?” later that same evening, we took a look at the manuscript at around midnight. It was in pristine condition.
Too
pristine. Not one crease, or dog-ear, or even the slightest smudge.… It was obvious that no one had opened it.
“I don’t get it,” Stieg sighed. “Well, what do we care. Never mind.… Want any coffee?”
“There’s some ready!”
AFTER STIEG’S death and the book’s success, a woman called me from Piratförlaget in some despair. She was the one who had received the manuscript and she told me that because of a lack of personnel, a great number of manuscripts had been systematically rejected without being read.
So the first volume of
The Millennium Trilogy
sat out in our hallway for a while, and it was Robert Aschberg, the publisher of
Expo
, who later delivered another copy of the manuscript to Norstedts, Sweden’s oldest publishing house, founded in 1823. At the time, Stieg was completely immersed in his work with Cecilia Englund on their anthology about honor killings, and he had other things on his mind. Good news was on the way, however. Not long ago, I came across a letter to Stieg dated March 2004 from the publishing house of Hjalmarsson & Höglund, which would publish the first volume of the trilogy, they said, but only after extensive rewriting. Stieg did not reply. Especially since shortly afterward, in the spring of 2004, Norstedts agreed to publish
The Millennium Trilogy
as is! I remember emailing one of our acquaintances with the news: “Call Stieg to congratulate him—with this success, he’s walking on air, and he deserves it so much!”
That April, I began a new job in Falun, the capital of Dalarna County in central Sweden, 150 miles northwest from Stockholm. After many years of working on ways to introduce more efficient and sustainable practices into the construction sector, I now had the chance to try putting such practices into action. Since I was working directly withlocal construction companies, I was spending four days a week in Falun. One weekend, Stieg told me he’d signed a contract for those first three volumes with an advance of 591,000 kronor (about $86,500). In the letter of confirmation, Norstedts explained to Stieg that like many authors, he could establish a company to which the advance would be paid, and if he wished, an administrator at Norstedts would discuss with him the advantages and disadvantages of various kinds of companies. Enthusiastic about this idea, Stieg told me that Norstedts could help set up some kind of partnership in which I would be a cofounder. I suppose that is why the 591,000 kronor were
The Millennium Trilogy
, which Stieg had sent off during the summer to Piratförlaget, Sweden’s third-largest publishing house. “They didn’t even go pick it up!” I added.
Stieg was bewildered. “But when I called them that day,
they
were the ones who asked me to send it.…”
“We’re not giving up! Call them back and tell them I’ll deliver it to them myself.”
A few days later I set out in the rain for Gamla Stan, theold quarter of Stockholm, with the manuscript wrapped in the same brown paper. A big chunk of book. And I know what I’m talking about: some nights when I used to lie on my bed exhausted after a busy day, pen in hand, with the latest version of the text propped up on my chest, I would doze off … and the whole thing would smack me right in the face!
I delivered the package to a pleasant blonde and was able to assure Stieg that it was now on someone’s desk.
But there was no further news. Several weeks went by before Stieg decided to call, only to learn that Piratförlaget wasn’t interested.
“Too bad,” I announced. “Your book is great, it’ll be published someday, and since those people don’t seem to know where the post office is, I’m going to go get the book back right now!”
AFTER STIEG’S ritual “Anybody home?” later that same evening, we took a look at the manuscript at around midnight. It was in pristine condition.
Too
pristine. Not one crease, or dog-ear, or even the slightest smudge.… It was obvious that no one had opened it.
“I don’t get it,” Stieg sighed. “Well, what do we care. Never mind.… Want any coffee?”
“There’s some ready!”
AFTER STIEG’S death and the book’s success, a woman called me from Piratförlaget in some despair. She was the one who had received the manuscript and she told me that because of a lack of personnel, a great number of manuscripts had been systematically rejected without being read.
So the first volume of
The Millennium Trilogy
sat out in our hallway for a while, and it was Robert Aschberg, the publisher of
Expo
, who later delivered another copy of the manuscript to Norstedts, Sweden’s oldest publishing house, founded in 1823. At the time, Stieg was completely immersed in his work with Cecilia Englund on their anthology about honor killings, and he had other things on his mind. Good news was on the way, however. Not long ago, I came across a letter to Stieg dated March 2004 from the publishing house of Hjalmarsson & Höglund, which would publish the first volume of the trilogy, they said, but only after extensive rewriting. Stieg did not reply. Especially since shortly afterward, in the spring of 2004, Norstedts agreed to publish
The Millennium Trilogy
as is! I remember emailing one of our acquaintances with the news: “Call Stieg to congratulate him—with this success, he’s walking on air, and he deserves it so much!”
That April, I began a new job in Falun, the capital of Dalarna County in central Sweden, 150 miles northwest from Stockholm. After many years of working on ways to introduce more efficient and sustainable practices into the construction sector, I now had the chance to try putting such practices into action. Since I was working directly withlocal construction companies, I was spending four days a week in Falun. One weekend, Stieg told me he’d signed a contract for those first three volumes with an advance of 591,000 kronor (about $86,500). In the letter of confirmation, Norstedts explained to Stieg that like many authors, he could establish a company to which the advance would be paid, and if he wished, an administrator at Norstedts would discuss with him the advantages and disadvantages of various kinds of companies. Enthusiastic about this idea, Stieg told me that Norstedts could help set up some kind of partnership in which I would be a cofounder. I suppose that is why the 591,000 kronor were
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