Early in 2014, I thought my book would "soon" be out. The original plan had been to release it in 2013, the 50th anniversary year of Plath's death. Fall of 2013 had been discussed. Then the winter. Then the farther off winter of 2014. I continued with my speaking engagements and travel, touring universities and publishing excerpts on the book. I passed out my Fixed Stars Govern a Life: Decoding Sylvia Plath bookmarks, and promised, "Soon, soon."
But it was not soon. Not by my definition. Today, I am thankful about that. There were a lot of Plath books released last year, and I would have been lost in the mix. As I brought in a new editor on my own dime, as I continued to make my discoveries of supporting evidence in the Plath archives at IU-Bloomington, as I continued to receive my little epiphanies that helped me connect the dots in even more new ways, I knew I had needed this extra time. Today, I have a superior manuscript to the one that I thought was finished last year. My seven years of work had not been enough! Our Sylvia was a perfectionist, after all. Maybe most special to me is that I have befriended a friend of Plath and Hughes' from their days in the London poetry scene, and he has become a very important, almost daily part of my personal and professional life. How can I be so fortunate?
Otto Plath's hero, Charles Darwin, once said in an 1857 letter to Asa Gray, ‘
I am quite conscious that my speculations run quite beyond the bounds of true science.’ Darwin, a self-proclaimed Atheist, might also fit the definition of a mystic, as it was through his existentialism and loss of faith that he was able to see what he called "the higher feelings of wonder, astonishment, and devotion, which fill and elevate the mind." Darwin opened his mind beyond the status quo, and even beyond persecution and the loss of his professional reputation, to entertain what seemed at the time to be the ridiculous.
Still, despite my own feelings of wonder, things around this book of mine that were fully there, and yet somehow not happening, continued to frustrate me. It was not going according to my plan for its evolution. There had been talk about my book being the star at the National Publisher's Conference in New York City (did my press even go? I was told nothing). There had been talk about them giving me a great web page devoted to my book (To this day, I am not sure my book is even mentioned as forthcoming on the site; it was not the last time I looked). Refusing to wait, I paid a developer to give me this nice page (Please join my email list if you're not already on it). There had been talk about me coming down to the press' university for a reading. There had been talk about advanced copies being printed and sent out to reviewers. There had been talk, and talk, and talk... but rarely to me, and none of it was ever nailed down. To this day, while I know that there are pre-orders of my book patiently waiting out there, I have no idea how many. Ten? A hundred? A thousand? I'm not sure that the press knows either, but I kept working hard to market my work. I have spent thousands on travel and speaking engagements, presenting twice in England, and in DC, New York, Milwaukee, Cleveland, St. Louis, and more. I have an email list of more than 30,000 names. Every day I get hits from all over the world on Academia.edu, and requests for more information. I am always between the top 2- and 4% of pages viewed. The world loves Sylvia Plath, and the world wants this information. I feel like the most blessed person to have been the one to find it, to have learned what I have learned, and yet, for metaphysical reasons beyond me, it all seems to be held up in the retrograde of retrogrades. Meanwhile, a breakthrough article I am publishing in Plath Profiles 7 is also held up! [12/10/14--It's there now] Who can understand any of it?
I felt embarrassed (ego stuff!) as the June and September release dates for my book came and went. I wrote back to the people querying about their pre-orders, apologizing and saying, "I can't give a definitive date, but I promise it's coming." It is. And soon. Really, this time! I have seen the layout progress with my own eyes. Finally, I have a very good contact person at the press, a capable and mature person who is working hard and communicating well. We are close to there. I'd hoped that it might get out on Sylvia Plath's birthday, October 27th. She would have liked that. Perhaps it will get out by my birthday, November 26th. She would like that too.
I have learned a great deal about publishing through all of this. Mainly, that today the entire industry is in a free-fall. Everyone with experience tells me my story is not unique. Large publishing house or small, writers are suffering today from what the music industry went through in the 1990s. It does not matter if one publishes with a large or small press. One prolific writer I know (15 books with HarperCollins and Random House) had a book held up for three years while the press went through a reorganization. Ultimately, they dropped it and she is going to self-publish. My Plath-Hughes friend has 25 books with publishers all over the world, some with major international awards, and still finds the industry impossible and in a complete down-slide. Self-publishing is no longer a dirty word, by the way, and like those in the music world, more and more authors with followings are not willing to play the bureaucratic games, to pay editors, agents, publicists and distributors to do nothing, and to have their books held up for years in the system. Today, Miley Cyrus could more easily put out a book of blank pages with a large house than a past Pulitzer Prize winner, because that's what the masses want. Today, I wonder if Sylvia Plath or Ted Hughes would even have a chance.
Printed books, like CDs and tapes, are falling away from the norm as people want digital downloads of everything, easy to search, to listen to, and to get right to the parts in which one is most interested. It is not all bad, and as a scholar and researcher myself, I know how valuable searchable digital editions can be. In music, the concept of the full album experience is gone, in favor of singles. Publishing has known for a long time that readers are reading less, especially with regard to literary fiction and poetry. Books of criticism on those subjects have an even smaller audience. One could complain about the injustice of it all, or one can get on with the changing world and adapt. In the 1990s, musicians either lost their careers, or learned to parlay their energy into giving away the music free and/or independently (think Wilco, Radiohead, Garbage, and others), making their money instead on performances and fan merchandise. I am certain the carbon paper industry lost its mind (and everything else) when the copy machine became an office standard. Likewise, typewriter manufacturers were probably not too happy when the personal computer came around. When Charles Darwin realized his theories on evolution, he declared that those species able to adapt were the ones to survive. Smart companies, like IBM, adapted.
I am adapting too. I count my blessings that this first book has the name of a university behind it. I am blessed for the hold-ups that have made it better, and for the new treasured friends, and maybe most of all, for the spiritual growth. I have learned an incredible amount, and it has all made me a better person. It has all created a better book. There are no accidents. We just can't allow ourselves to become too attached to how we think it is going to go. If it had all gone as I had originally planned, I would have had a book quietly released last year to probably quickly dissolve into obscurity. I wouldn't have received half of my gifts of knowledge and friendship. I simply hadn't dreamed big enough, and this world continues to amaze me, personally, professionally, and spiritually.
I wonder how it will all turn out.
