Free The Deal by Tony Drury Page A

should have these statistics at your finger tips, Alistair. ‘Around thirty-two percent’ isn’t good enough.”
    “Hey, I’m a publisher, remember.”
    “What’s that got to do with it?”
    “Everything,” he replied. “Amanda and I have flogged ourselves to death getting the company to where it is today. It needs a managing director to run it. I want to be a publisher free of cash-flow worries, independent of the bank and the Inland Revenue, not having to deal with staff matters. I want to work with my authors.”
    “What’s stopping you?”
    “Two million pounds.”
    Their plates were cleared and almost immediately the pappardelle of wild mushrooms and Alistair’s sea bass arrived with steaming vegetables. A second waiter opened the new bottle of wine and invited Alistair to sample it. Their glasses were swiftly refilled.
    “I think publishing is gambling,” said Sara. “You produce, say, ten books and hope that three will sell.”
    “That’s more the American approach, Sara. If Sarah Palin runs off with a new boyfriend, the Yanks will have Alaskan Lovers piled high in the book shops within days.”
    She laughed and looked more closely at Alistair. She was liking him more and more.
    “What you need, Alistair, is some winners.”
    “One winner will do,” he laughed.
    He reached beneath the table and produced a book which he handed to her.
    “As I said, mostly we’re publishing financial and political fiction books. There really are some decent authors around. This is Sub-prime which was written by a chap in one of the broking houses. He’s used his knowledge of finance and the tricks that are played to good effect. It’s now sold thirty thousand copies.”
    Sara looked at the book and read the cover notes.
    Alistair put his knife and fork down and drank some water. He was unhurried and gave the impression of having plenty of time. Sara realised she was feeling very at ease in his company.
    “What do you read, Sara?”
    “Hey, I’m asking the questions.” She smiled playfully.
    “Do you want to know about the team back at the office?”
    “No,” she said. “I want to know why JK Rowling was turned down by so many publishers.”
    “The conundrum of publishing, Sara. We ask ourselves the same question on a daily basis. At City Fiction we receive on average about ten books a week. We live in fear we might miss the big one. Sometimes the agent approaches us which helps. We know the good ones from the time wasters.” He drank some wine. “You should also look at those authors who only publish one title. It’s as hard to get past the first book as it is to be published in the first place. Now, shall we talk about eBooks and Kindles?”
    “No,” she said. “These ten books you receive each week. What do you do with them?”
    “It’s a poor answer but I rely on instinct. We have a ‘submissions policy’ statement on our website and if the author has followed that they are more likely to be read.”
    The waiter cleared their plates and tidied the glasses.
    “Coffee?” asked Alistair.
    “Green tea, please.”
    The waiter poured the last of the wine and left to organise the hot drinks.
    “I’m due to meet Amanda tonight,” said Sara.
    “She’ll tell you about foreign rights,” he said. “She travels the world selling our books. She really is beginning to build up our European sales. She’s talking about going to Hong Kong and China.”
    “Tell me about her.”
    “Find out for yourself.”
    “I will,” she said. “But I would have thought that you could discuss her value to the business with me.”
    “I know she’s my sister,” Alistair said, “but I can honestly say that she’s one of the loveliest people I’ve ever known. Our parents divorced when we were in our teens so we only had each other. My father went off to the Far East and we lost contact. My mother lives in Hastings and Amanda sees her regularly. She never recovered from the separation and lives alone, though