The premonitions that we so quickly dismiss are sometimes our truest glances of reality.
THE LETTER
IN MARCH IFLEW BACK to New York to meet with my new publisher. We discussed book design and marketing plans. They were amenable to all of my ideas except for one: the paperback release. The afternoon of the second day I was brought into a meeting with the sales managers. It was actually an ambush. The V.P. of sales spoke first.
“You can’t publish the paperback,” he said. “You’ll destroy any chance you have at success.”
“I have to,” I said.
They all looked at me. “Why?” one of them asked.
“Because I feel that I have to.”
The sales director tried her luck. “Let me explain this. Fall is the most competitive time of the year for publishers. You’ll be competing with the biggest authors and books in the world. By bringing out the paperback at the same time as the hardcover you’ll split your sales. It’s like playing basketball with Michael Jordan and spotting him points. Your book will never hit a bestseller list. We’ll have fewer sells, you’ll make less money. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” I said, “but I knew going into this that I had to do it this way. So did you. It was part of the deal.”
Finally, at an impasse, the V.P. said something I find even more remarkable today than I did then. “You know, nothing about this book has been conventional. If Rick feels that this is the way it’s supposed to be, maybe it is.”
