Monday, November 21, 2005

book dreams

what's the equivalent in publishing of blowing your knee out in basketball? that's what happened to me. i was like a playground publishing star. i had a wicked crossover, could nail the three and displayed flashes of a jordan-esque touch in acquisitions. But circumstances prevented me from making it in the big leagues*. now i work for public broadcasting. which is like the same as the broken athlete who opens his own used car lot.

But things have changed. Call it a comeback if you want. See, I have always been confident that I'd make an all-star caliber sixth man. Sort of like a Kevin McHale-meets-Gary Fisketjohn type. Picture it. Like, the editor-in-chief would be your starting center; they're good for banging and rebounding and intimidation. The face of the team. You need the double double from this position. From there, the editor-at-large would function as your high-flying two guard. Lots of scoring, but little in the way of defense. Though they shine at launch parties. The point guard is your managing editor. Must be organized and know how to distribute the rock. The senior editor is the veteran power forward. This spot supports and covers for the center and produces 20 and 10 a night, plus a half-dozen strong selling non-fiction titles over the year. I guess at the three spot you've got the slightly intoxicated yet charming imprint editor. Sort of a freelancer within the system. Usually has a specialty, like perimeter defense or new-young-mind fiction, but you can't really depend on them to carry the entire list/team. Then you've got the bench players. A slew of associate editors, publicists, copy editors and the like. The coach of course is the publisher.

But the sixth man. The sixth man is like the wildcard. The magic that gets you through the first round of the playoffs and then makes the wizard buzzer-beater to send the team to the Giller Awards. He's playing for the team because he's all heart, but he also knows his contract depends on making the most of his minutes. Maybe the Small Forward is too deep into his cups this season. Hasn't had a bestseller, his shooting percentage is down. Whatever. But he's off his game this year, the Coach is cutting his minutes, and thus arrives the opportunity that the Sixth Man has been waiting for. You know, he's in his thirties now. Not many seasons left in the old dog. He squandered chances on bigger teams under brighter lights, but now he's matured. He's the silver fox. The golden bear. He's ready. He's re-hab'd. He wants the rock. He's feeling it again. Book dreams.

*more like, not exactly...

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

What's with all the editors? Who is supplying the fucking content?

Anonymous said...

The content is an organic process of the game.

Anonymous said...

Expanding further on this model, I think, scouts are agents and agents are agents, and general managers are arts council employees.

Anonymous said...

There's writers & editors....everyone else is management.
What's management? Someone who has a key to the shithouse.

cab said...

the content is the game itself sillies. bienencore, please refrain from stepping outside the stage in the future. thank you.

cecil, there are no locks on the shithouses of the future.

Anonymous said...

The key is a metaphor.
The shithouse is prison.