Some fiction by other publishers I enjoyed in 2011

Not all of them were published in 2011

The Good Muslim, Tahmima Anam

The story of Maya and her brother Sohail in the post-war Bangladesh. Maya is a doctor and a social worker of sorts – doing abortions and deliveries as the situation demands, while she contemplates her country’s travails along with her close friend’s she’s helpless to help. She is a woman with modern ideas, who decides to return home after war. Once at home she tries to reconcile herself with the transformation in her brother, Sohail – once close but now a stranger deeply immersed in religion; with her mother, and her city that’s no more recognizable. The book is poignant and poetic, yet doesn’t dip into sentimentality, which is its greatest strength.

The Wandering Falcon, Jamil Ahmed

I read The Good Muslim and The Wandering Falcon back-to-back. Two books about two Muslim nations, and yet so very different.

A book published after almost four decades of being written, this one’s in a class of its own. There is no ‘protagonist’ per se, but the tribes in Waziristan, Balochistan, and the Swat Valley; their stringent laws and customs. The remarkable fact is the tribes’ almost stoic acceptance of what their life is all about. Tor Baz, whose parents defy their society and elope in the beginning of he book, links the lives of the Wazirs, Mahsuds, and Afridis, as the book moves between Afghanistan and Pakistan and nebulous regions in between. He stays more often at the periphery than at the centre of the narrative. Perhaps it would be more enjoyable for those who don’t care too much for personal narratives but the macro-picture.

The Devotion of Suspect X, Keigo Higashino

It’s amazing how the best of books sometimes do not get their due. Very few Indian readers, in spite of having been fed upon detective fiction all their lives, have heard of this book! Well, if you haven’t read it already, you ought to. A Japanese divorcee, living with her daughter, is visited by her ex-husband, who first grovels in front of them, then turns violent, and is finally strangled by the mother and daughter. Enter Ishigami, the Math whiz next door, and Professor Yukawa (a brilliant physicist and police aide). The reader thinks: But the murder has already happened. And we’ve seen the murderer! What now? Just wait till you get to the end of the book. It’s a very different kind of crime fiction you’re going to read!

The Sense of an Ending, Julian Barnes

This time’s Booker Prize winner, the book is part philosophy, and part (what I called in my last column) a ‘literary potboiler’. Tony Webster, a sixty-year-old retired man reconstructs his life, and, during the process, realizes there’s always a chasm between memory and actual event. The story revolves around Tony, his volatile love – Veronica, and his brilliant friend – Adrian. Adrian’s suicide changes the course of the novel. As Veronica’s mother, whom Tony met only once in his life, leaves him a bequest of five-hundred pounds, a letter, and a diary, his curiosity is kindled. Hence begins the seemingly simple, yet complex tale about a man trying to reconcile himself with his past and present.

Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami

No book could be so matter-of-fact and so moving, so intense and so un-sentimental, so poignant and so chilling – all at once. A true example of how one can use simple words and a simple style to tell the most brilliant story, and create the most vivid and memorable scenes. Toru Watanabe hears the Beatles track, and his mind goes into flashback – as a young student and his love affair with Naoko, a pretty Japanese girl, whose life and personality are fractured beyond repair in spite of his best efforts to save her. Besides the Japanese students’ movement, the book focuses on sexuality and the theme of loss, death, and darkness.

Ithaca, David Davidar

Part autobiographical? Perhaps. It’s difficult not to be when you’re writing about an industry you’ve been a fundamental part of for decades. And an industry you can write well and authoritatively about – that David does. For publishing professionals the world over, yes, the novel has appeal. There’s a great deal one can identify with and nod one’s head at. It’s a familiar world, and some parts of the book are absolutely hilarious. I’m not quite sure how a non-publishing professional would perceive it though. The story is about Zachary Thomas, an Anglo-Indian publisher of Litmus, an independent publishing house in Britain. He’s struggling to do what most independents in real life are always struggling to do. And yet, is it really just about that?

My Little Boat, Mariam Karim

For those interested in serious literature, this book is a treasure. It’s a women-centric novel, and focuses on issues such as fanaticism, communalism, and the idea of being a Muslim woman in today’s India, in an unequivocal, bold, modern style. Often it surprises the reader by offering the unexpected. The novel has been done in a creative, innovative style, both in terms of content and form, and much of the text is suffused with poetry. The narrative offers rich symbolism, deep philosophy, and layers of meaning.

A House in Ranikhet, Keki Daruwalla

I’d read Keki Daruwalla’s poetry earlier, and perhaps one of his short stories as a part of our school curriculum, but this collection of short stories was somewhat of a discovery. The prose is brilliant and poetic, of course, but the stories themselves come as a delightful surprise. They’re not the dark, depressing ones one comes across so often in Literature (or the kinds I’m guilty of writing myself), but cheerful and lively. His characters are people who would continue to prance and frolic in your mind much after you’ve finished reading the book! A must read.

Of course, if you didn’t check out our own titles, please do:

Rhythms of Darkness: Anjana Basu : http://www.gyaanabooks.com/rhythms-of-darkness.asp

Thunder Demons: Dipika Mukherjee: http://www.gyaanabooks.com/thunder-demons.asp

The Body in the Back Seat: Salil Desai: http://www.gyaanabooks.com/the-body-in-the-back-seat.asp

Whistling in the Dark: Writing Gender (Jaipur Literature Festival, gay fiction, queer theory)

[Published in All About Book Publishing, forthcoming issue]

So what was happening at the Jaipur Literature Festival before the gallant four distracted everybody with their readings from Rushdie’s Satanic Verses?



Raj Rao and Hoshang Merchant, JLF 2012



The festival really began with remarkable observations on shifting attitudes towards various genres today and, of course, discussions on the latest trends in writing and publishing (as usual) – one of them being perceptions and perspectives on writing gender (as usual), except that they weren’t talking feminism here (perhaps not so usual).

R Raj Rao (professor of English and Queer Theory at the University of Pune) and Hoshang Merchant (professor of Poetry and Surrealism at Hyderabad University), both recognised as leading writers of gay fiction in India, came together to discuss gay fiction, queer theory, and the business of being a writer, at Diggi Palace on 20th January 2012.

Interestingly, some significant points were thrown up by both the speakers during the session: that what used to be gay writing earlier is now queer literature; that there is a difference between queer and queer theory (studies challenging social constructs regarding sexual identity); that gay writers do not find the same place in the writing circles or the society as other writers.

Essentially, the term ‘gay’ was changed to ‘queer’ since ‘gay’ was considered restrictive and left out the three significant others – LBT. According to the speakers, over time, there’s been a shift in Literature reflecting these changes in trends. There has also been a de-centring of normativity (largely heteronormativity or the belief that heterosexuality is ‘normal’ while homosexuality is not). Queer theorists the world over have challenged those assumptions.

Given the current trends, and India’s own pride parade – a rather vibrant one at that post Section 377 repeal -- it was interesting that Raj Rao should say the gay movement and gay writing are moving in opposite directions – the former towards acceptance, the latter away from it.

Both the writers agreed that gay writers still do not find the same place in the society as other writers. Merchant said, ‘It’s difficult to be noticed when you’re on the margins. I’m a writer. Why am I a gay writer?’

Rao said, ‘The fact that you’re a writer is overlooked. We’re literary scholars.’ Yet, a dilemma does exist – to assert one’s identity while, at the same time, trying to meld into the conventional stream. It was obvious from his next sentence. ‘If I say that I aspire to be a mainstream writer, I’m denying I’m a gay writer, which is also not the case.’

Rao offered the example of Vikram Seth and said that, as a writer, one should try one’s hand at everything. His statement was immediately and vehemently opposed by Merchant who declared Seth as ‘an enemy in my camp’ because he believed/believes Seth shouldn’t be writing mainstream fiction. That was an interesting moment at the venue since a woman from the audience was up in arms immediately, and more comrade hydra heads would have popped up within seconds had the moderator not put an end to ‘comments’ from the audience and diverted attention right away.   

Regarding ‘self on the page versus self lived’, the authors confessed that it was difficult to say which was more authentic. ‘There’s no “authentic”. There’s been enough platinising. We’re also playing roles,’ said Merchant. ‘Genres are foisted upon the author.’

Addressing the same question, Rao brought back the issue of queer theory. He explained that that is precisely what it is about – insincerity, projection, and skirting the core issues.

Raj Rao and Hoshang Merchant, JLF 2012

Both writers also admitted that there has been a constant element of fear in their writerly lives. It is unsurprising in those who have lived under the cloud of Section 377 for several years, first grappling with their own sexuality, and then grappling with talking about it through the medium of their script. Merchant described sitting and weaving together a coherent text as an act of heroism. ‘When I started, there were no gay presses, so mainstream publishers had to take up my writing,’ he said. ‘My autobiography was more open … I was afraid to write.’

‘Whatever has to be said has to be said in the writing,’ said Rao. He mentioned that his first short story appeared in Debonair in 1986, when he was starting out his career, and the first question he faced from a friend was, ‘Aren’t you afraid?’

Merchant referred to himself a fascist homosexual and a high-class Parsi communist, with a laugh. He maintains that globalisation is blurring the lines between heterosexual and homosexual everywhere but in bed. He was categorical about the fact that he is what he is and will remain that way. 

It is good to see more writers speaking up in the same vein that we witnessed as publishers of Mahesh Natarajan’s Pink Sheep, a collection of short stories (gay fiction) published sometime ago. One of the reviewers wrote, ‘Pink Sheep may remind you a little of RK Narayan’s Malgudi, except that the protagonists are homosexual.’ It’s indeed not their extraordinariness but ordinariness that is striking in these works. Hopefully, these writers will not be left whistling in the dark in the times to come.

Of Gods and Men: The JLF story (Rushdie, Hari Kunzru, Amitava Kumar, Satanic Verses)

[Published in Book Link, Feb 2012 issue -- forthcoming]



Hari Kunzru, JLF 2012

 When Amitava Kumar began the session with Hari Kunzru at Durbar Hall packed to capacity on 20th January, he began with the declaration that they were going to start the discussion about gods and men, but slightly different kinds of god and different kinds of men.

The confirmation of Salman Rushdie’s cancelled visit to Jaipur had  had a predictable impact on all author-participants. Most of them were livid at the organizers’ ‘pusillanimity’ at allowing a handful of religious conservatives to get away with murder – almost literally. To express their solidarity with the victim, Amitava and Kunzru then began to read out certain lines from the Satanic Verses, Rushdie’s contentious book, unfortunately, still banned in India.

They had barely read out about four lines, and were commenting upon the beauty of Rushdie’s prose when the festival director, Sanjoy Roy, stepped in broke the trance – a trance created by those simple four lines of Rushdie’s exquisite prose that made no reference to religion.

Sitting in the front row, bang opposite the speakers when they started, my first thoughts were about what must be going through the minds of all the audience sitting in the same hall. While most had cheered the move with an ear-defying applause, there were some who’d come particularly for Kunzru and not Rushdie and weren’t happy about it. Regardless, the atmosphere was electric for those few moments. There was that unexpected excitement at being allowed a glimpse into what had so far been unfamiliar and forbidden, accompanied by various notches of tension at the same privilege. And, with Sanjoy Roy’s intervention at that juncture, the same performance suddenly somersaulted to low-voltage and did not pick up again for the rest of the session though both the brilliant authors sitting at the helm tried their best to recreate the magic. Sadly, they had to make their quick exits soon after, fearing arrest.

It would be pointless to deny, the organizers’ stance notwithstanding, that this year’s JLF has been revolving around the Rushdie sun. The forced cancellation of his visit perhaps lent more weight to words like dissent, censorship, absolute freedom of expression, strategic silence, oppression and, more importantly, ‘Talibanization of Literature’ and ‘cultural fundamentalism’ – topics mentioned, skimmed over, or chewed upon – in almost all the sessions across the venues or genres.

A session titled ‘Creativity, Censorship, and Dissent’ with participation from well-known writers such as Tahmima Anam, Siddharth Gigoo, Prasoon Joshi, Charu Nivedita, Cheran, moderated by Shoma Chaudhury of Tehelka, took up these very threads on day two of the festival. Ironically, the discussion threw up the interesting idea that in present-day India, there isn’t enough subversive or provocative writing happening. No boundaries being pushed; no power structures being questioned, even by serious writers. Authors have begun to play it safe. And, indeed, it may be true that ours has become a land of the Lotus Eaters – a worrying fact for those who still feel that Literature has a rationale and purpose to serve beyond entertainment.

In Rushdie’s case in particular, two issues have inadvertently, if inevitably, been fused together – hurting or offending sentiments of some members of a certain clan (by allowing a certain author to attend the festival), and ‘illegal activity’ as a form of protest (i.e., reading a couple of lines from his banned book).

With regard to the former, another question strikes me: What about the sentiments of the other party? Do they count for nothing? And, as far as the latter case in concerned, much has been said and written about censorship and book banning by all of us already.

Shoma had a significant observation to make – that the majority of the people so passionately supporting the ban of Satanic Verses haven’t even read the book, but then so haven’t the majority of the people opposing it.

And yet many amongst them would have liked to, but were never allowed an opportunity simply because someone else had already made the decision for them without ever bothering to consult them about the matter. What is that if not an arbitrary act? What is it if not a dictatorship of sorts that allows no voice to the other?

The intelligentsia was open to a face-to-face discussion/debate with the ‘hurt’ party. Most rued the fact that the offended party wasn’t willing to engage in one. It was a deliberate and obdurate opaqueness no one could penetrate, and the state government went along with them.


Amitava Kumar, Hari Kunzru: JLF 2012


At one point during the discussion, Tahmima Anam, whose novel, The Good Muslim appeared last year, condemned censorship. She said, ‘There is no Muslim community, but many Muslim communities.’ And, to elucidate her point, she mentioned a magazine in the UK called The Critical Muslim that has been started by one such community to discuss/debate/challenge differences in ideologies, views, and beliefs, by various intellectuals/philosophers/thinkers. 

Of late the issue of censorship has risen again and again in different contexts, whether it’s Rushdie's work or Taslima Nasreen’s, Lelyveld’s book on Gandhi, or Ramanujan’s essay.

Yes, Section 19 (1) (A) of the Indian Constitution allows freedom of speech, and then perhaps immediately qualifies it. It’s somewhat like being taught ‘the more the merrier’ while simultaneously being warned about what too many cooks do to the broth. As Cherian pointed out, the responsibility that accompanies freedom cannot be legislated or ‘constitutionalized’. In spite of modernization and paradigm shifts in modern thought, even today authors can either opt for ‘strategic silence’ and play it safe in their writings; choose to go into exile before they call a spade a spade; or simply articulate dissent when and where they are and risk getting killed.

It is shameful indeed that the world’s largest democracy cannot stand by its own people.

In Defence of the ‘Literary Potboiler'

[Published: YourStory.in column: http://yourstory.in/2012/01/publishing-entrepreneur-divya-dubey-in-defence-of-the-literary-potboiler/]


While the literary circles in India were still shaking their heads over the recent tidal wave of low-quality fiction in India and the dumbing down of Indian Writing in English to ludicrous levels, lo and behold, publishing circles in the Western world decided to launch a rival to the Man Booker Prize, with the view that ‘Britain’s foremost literary award has dumbed down beyond recognition’, and that it has started putting ‘readability before artistic merit’.

So the concern turns global for those who lament the disappearance of serious literature as part of the changing trends in publishing, not just in India but the world over. But there are two aspects to this. The first is the wave of pulp fiction, especially by young writers, that is sans plot, sans structure or grammar, and available for a song. The second is what one could perhaps term as a ‘literary potboiler’ – well-written but direct rather than oblique/multi-layered/ridden with symbolism, fast-paced rather than meandering, and often linear rather than non.


While I agree that the former category is something lamentable, I have nothing against a ‘literary potboiler’. What could be better than a great story well told and accessible to all? The ALD defines literature as ‘pieces of writing that are valued as works of art, especially novels, plays, and poems’. One, ‘a work of art’ is subjective, to say the least. Two, it doesn’t necessarily have to be esoteric.


Mariam Karim, author of My Little Boat, who has strong views on the subject, says, ‘Literary criticism in IWE has not been developed at all as a discipline. Hardly any collections of critical essays are written. Most reviewers for newspapers and magazines have no background in methodology. They rarely have a developed philosophy of their own, or a reading wide enough to place books in literary contexts. Publishing has become primarily a commerce-driven industry. Erudition is much amiss among editors. The lines between bestsellers and literature have become blurred in IWE. Many authors apparently have "researchers” working for them, to create potboilers. Potboilers sell and can easily be construed as “literature", as discerning literary criticism is almost absent. Many potboilers are focused towards presenting an interesting picture of India to the West, to gain fame and fortune. “Literature” is not a consideration, not even for many writers.’


Agreed. But publishers are hardly the villains. Any business is driven by market forces, and publishers too have to earn their living – as many tend to forget. It is commendable that, in spite of the changing trends and the odds stacked against them, most mainstream publishers have not bent to the pressure and continue to produce high-quality literary writing.


Says Dipika Mukherjee, author of Thunder Demons, ‘I think readers invest their time and money expecting a certain amount of entertainment, and literature also fails when it is too solipsistic or ponderous and simply disengages the reader. Some books fail (for me) not because of "potboiler" issues but larger things. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini) is a real page turner that keeps a reader engrossed, but at the end caves into a myopic immigrant narrative which sells migration as the panacea for societal evils. I have been deeply impressed with Ghosh's work, and The Hungry Tide is especially good, but The Sea of Poppies just belabours the pidgin voices. Peter Carey, a master literary ventriloquist, was able to carry off such literary ventroliquism in True History of the Kelly Gang, but also faltered a great deal in My Life as a Fake. Also, although The Sea of Poppies is more in the potboiler tradition than his other works, I would hesitate to put any of Ghosh's works in that category. His books tend to be well-researched and multi-layered.’


Serious writing is challenging – both for the writer and the reader. And yet, if it fails to hold the reader’s interest, indeed, what’s the point? In Mark Twin’s own words. ‘A classic is a book which people praise, and don’t read.’ It would be a facile comment if a writer said that it matters not if people don’t buy/read the book, for why does one wish to publish one’s work at all if not to sell and be read?


Perhaps a great story simply and cleverly told works better. What better example of such a rare and fantastic blend can I offer than Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin, the winner of the Booker Prize, 2000? Can anyone deny it’s good literature? And, can anyone deny it’s (in a sense) a potboiler?


‘For me, whether a story moves fast or slow, whether it uses suspense or say nostalgia, is only a difference of mood and style, not a difference of depth,’ says Aditya Sudarshan, author of Show Me a Hero and A Nice Quiet Holiday. ‘Often a shallow story will cover up for its emptiness with thrills and shocks, but equally an accretion of detail and supposed subtlety can be ways of avoiding actual storytelling and communication. So I would never judge the literary worth of a book by the genre it belongs to. It all depends on the actual writing.’


Fair enough. And, simultaneously, the reader is just as responsible for what and how much a book offers him/her. As Georg C. Lichtenberg says, ‘A book is a mirror: if an ape looks into it, an apostle is hardly likely to look out.’

Doing a Book Review

[Published: col. 9,YourStory.in: http://yourstory.in/2011/12/publishing-entrepreneur-divya-dubey-shares-how-to-do-a-book-review/]

If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it. – Abraham Lincoln

The mantle of a judge perhaps gives us a greater high than anything else in the world possibility could. Perhaps more so when we sit in judgement over another person’s intellectual prowess – as, for instance, a book reviewer. When we do a book review, it is important to understand that, along with the freedom of expressing our views, we also have a responsibility – towards the task we have been entrusted with, towards the publication that has offered us the opportunity (or to ourselves in case of a blog); and towards the work, the writer, and the publisher – regardless of our sentiments towards them. The real test of a reviewer is not how he/she handles a book he/she loves, but one he/she absolutely abhors.


How does one maintain balance and civility in the face of contrary emotions dying to lash out at the work/writer? But there it is. The best sign of maturity is objectivity – a balanced view, taking into account both the book’s merits and faults. Whenever it comes to a creative work, likes and dislikes will always be subjective. No book is all good or all bad. Whether the work is literary or popular, fiction or non-fiction, the experience will always be unique to every person who reads it. A good reviewer is aware of that, and hence careful with his/her comments and phrasing, and, above all, professional in his/her approach. Language and treatment are as much the marks of a good reviewer as they are of a good fictionist.


Today’s reader is more perceptive, more aware of the world around him/her. It’s easy for him/her to detect a biased judge, a failed writer, a disgruntled non-professional, a malicious human being or simply a green-eyed one – hidden behind a particularly vicious piece of writing – where the merit of the book has little to do with the review it receives. Unfortunately, these days, one comes across the Cinderella Sisters syndrome too often – tomes raving and ranting unrestrainedly, ironically, revealing the reviewer as a hysterical figure frothing at the mouth instead of the dignified and articulate critic he/she is supposed to be. The purpose of the entire exercise is lost.

On the other hand there are also reviewers, who, if they feel they would not be able to rein in their dislike for a book on paper, or curb their severe response, choose to opt out instead of allowing their hysteria to show in their writing.

Most professional writers are receptive to constructive criticism if it is presented gracefully and well, but how does one respond to unwarranted comments and malevolence? As a reviewer, why not use one’s linguistic skills and creativity as weapons instead? Why not use relevant examples and parallels, gently showing the hows and whys, and giving the devil his due where it’s deserved? Wit and humour elegantly used to make a point, or a clever turn of phrase that expresses the reviewer’s thoughts, are more effective tools than wild ranting. Good writing – whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, an email or a review, is all about grace and subtlety.

No matter how much one dislikes a book, it is in bad taste to reveal the nub, or give away the suspense for the potential reader/buyer. A book review is different from critical appreciation, and has a different purpose/timing. In fact, even a critical appreciation has its own requirements, which are even more challenging. A good review neither flatters nor maligns, but provides a fair view.


Then there is the overzealous critic, who jumps to conclusions without doing his/her homework well, and is in such a hurry to heap blame on the author’s shoulders that he/she fails to establish facts before signing off the damaging memo. Not the most brilliant approach to accomplishing the task.


Any review reflects upon the reviewer even more than it does on the work/writer it analyses, so it’s best to think twenty times before publishing your piece.

The Rise of Literary Agencies in India

[Published column 7, YourStory.in: http://yourstory.in/2011/11/the-rise-of-literary-agencies-in-india/]


Who, what, where, why, and how – let’s get into the heart of the literary agency renaissance in India straightaway – since this vocation has, in the recent days, changed the function of the word ‘agent’ as more of a verb or an adjective. So now we have ‘agented’ scripts (that have the stamp of approval from an industry professional before they get to a publisher’s evaluation desk) and ‘non-agented’ or ‘unsolicited’ scripts (that come straight from the author and are usually raw). The latter category seems to be going out of fashion pretty fast with the recent rise of more literary agencies either out of good old ‘binary fission’ or the entry of new professionals into the arena.



Literary agencies usually serve two important purposes if they are good at their job: (a) they separate the wheat from the chaff; and (b) they edit/prune/polish the selected manuscript so that it is ready for publishing, thus reducing the publisher’s work and time investment considerably. In the coming years, some publishers may stop entertaining unsolicited manuscripts altogether.


Most agencies these days do not charge a reading fee as they used to earlier. However, if they accept a project, there is a fee for editorial services (substantive as well as copyediting). Charges vary, depending on the amount of work a script requires, or according to word count. There may be no editorial charges at all for a ready script. Others could cost a good sum if they require more work or a complete overhauling.


Once the process is complete, it is the agent’s job to sell the ready script to a good publisher. Interestingly, a script may take anything between a day and a year (or more) to sell. The agent’s commission varies from 10% to 20% (on the advance and royalty). Some agents have a flat rate for sales in the sub-continent as well as foreign countries, while others charge a slightly higher percentage on the sale of foreign rights. The commission is split with a sub-agent, in case they work with any. These days, since the Indian publishers usually go in for world rights anyway, it shouldn’t be too much of a concern.


Agencies like Siyahi, and Sherna Khambatta’s Literary Agency have been around since 2007. Jacaranda (now in Singapore) has been around since 1997. Writer’s Side began in 2009 and has been growing steadily. There are two new players on the circuit now – Urmila Dasgupta’s Purple Folio.


It is a misconception that if a person has a publishing business alongside a literary agency, it’s bound to be a vanity-publishing business. On the contrary, the businesses are independent and separately run, have separate submission guidelines and processes, and allow a project to be submitted only to one of the two. Their merit/quality can be easily judged since their products are already out there in the public domain.


The genres agents deal with range from fiction to non-fiction, to translations or works in regional languages. Mita Kapur of Siyahi says, ‘Genres don’t limit us, although we are going slow on taking up poetry. Would love to, but publishers have to have a demand for it.’


‘I cannot guarantee placement, but work to the best of my ability to get one,’ says Sherna Khambatta. Urmila Dasgupta is confident of selling most of her scripts. ‘In most cases, yes,’ she says. ‘Only in a few do I wait till the author reworks on his/her own or after I have edited the script and the author has carried out changes to my satisfaction.’


Most of the agencies do have a pretty high success rate. The number of projects a literary agency does in a year ranges from ten to thirty, depending on the resources available to it and the time the negotiations take. If they cannot sell a project within the stipulated time, the rights revert to the author.


Apart from quality control, agents help to expedite the entire process and, as mentioned elsewhere earlier, may be able to get the author some amount of money as an advance if it is a strong script.


If you plan to approach a literary agent, first of all – please make sure that you find a genuine one. There are also agents who charge a fee and then set you up with a vanity publisher. Beware of such offers. Secondly, do make sure that your contract is clear to you, and that you do have an exit route available along with a reversion-of-rights clause in case the agent should fail to sell the script to a publisher within a reasonable period.


A list of literary agencies follows below, along with their details:



Jacaranda
Contact person: Jayapriya Vasudevan and Priya Doraswamy
Email: info@jacaranda-press.com
Website: http://jacaranda-press.com/
Add: 331 River Valley Road, 0903 Angsana 1, Yong An Park, Singapore 238363.


Purple Folio
Contact person: Urmila Dasgupta
Email: purplefolio@gmail.com
Website: www.purplefolio.com
Add: 75 National Media Centre, National Highway-8,
Nathupur, Near Shankar Chowk.
Gurgaon-122002.


Red Ink
Contact person: Anuj Bahri
Website: http://redinkliteraryagency.com/


Sherna Khambatta Literary Agency
Contact person: Sherna Khambatta
Email: sherna_khambatta@yahoo.co.uk
Website: www.shernakhambatta.com
Add: Gold Croft,
39 B. Desai Road
Bombay 400026


Siyahi
Contact person: Mita Kapur
Email: mitakapur@siyahi.in
Website: siyahi.in
Add: D-241, Amrapali Marg,
Hanuman Nagar
Jaipur-21


Writer’s Side
Contact person: Kanishka Gupta
Email: kanishka500@gmail.com
Website: http://www.writersside.com/

Should I Approach a Publishing House or a Literary Agency?

[Published: http://yourstory.in/2011/11/publishing-entrepreneurs-should-you-approach-a-publishing-house-or-a-literary-agency/]

Lately, we have been talking a lot about the transforming scenario in Indian publishing. One of the major changes has been the literary agency renaissance. It would be wrong to assume that India never had any literary agencies earlier. Mita Kapur’s Siyahi,  Sherna Khambatta’s Literary Agency, etc are a few that have been around for sometime.

However, with the growing number of writers as well as publishers every day now, the requirements of the industry also seem to be changing rapidly. Hence, more literary agencies have come up in the recent past, catering for all kinds of writers – from young, college-going authors doing young adult fiction, to serious literary writers, to writers of non-fiction.  Most of the new literary agencies are run by young professionals, some of whom have already been a part of the publishing industry earlier and are familiar with the prerequisites.

One query I come across most often is: I am a writer with a ready script. Should I approach a publishing house or a literary agency? What’s the difference? How does it matter?

One could approach either but, following the recent trends, a literary agency may be a safer bet. There is a very realistic possibility that some publishers may stop accepting unsolicited manuscripts altogether in the next few years.  Small independents do welcome unsolicited scripts. And many of them produce excellent work that can compete with any other in quality.

Let’s look at some more questions regarding literary agencies.

Q. What exactly is a literary agency?   

A. A literary agency is an agency that acts as a mediator between an author and a publishing house. A literary agent represents the author. He/she reads the author’s script, evaluates it, decides whether it is publishable (or can be made publishable by working on it), decides whether it has the potential to sell, and then takes it on.  Once the agent accepts a script, he/she acts on the author’s behalf and interacts with various publishers till the script is sold and published, and also keeps a track of its performance right up to the time when the author receives his/her royalty.

Q. How is a literary agency different from a publishing house?

A. An agent is an agent – a catalyst in the process. A literary agency charges for its services. Some agents charge a reading fee for reading submissions; others don’t charge for reading, but charge for editing once they’ve accepted a script. Editing includes both substantive and copyediting services. The agent receives a percentage as commission on the author’s royalty once the script has been sold to a publisher. Usually, it’s fifteen per cent. Some agents do have an independent publishing business, but the submissions for that are separate. The submissions to an agency are particularly for the services they offer, including selling the script to another mainstream publisher.

 Q. What are the advantages of going through a literary agent?

A. Quality control. One of the main advantages is that if the author’s script is not print-worthy, the agent makes sure it will be before it reaches the publisher’s evaluation desk. The chances of acceptance hence become much higher. Many times, if a script has been rejected once, the publisher is reluctant to look at it again. That can be prevented right away.  Another advantage is that the script moves faster since it has already been through one round of editing at the agent’s desk. Yet another advantage is that if the script is really strong, the agent may be able to get some amount from the publisher as an advance for the author.

Very recently, I received a query from a first-time author on my linkedin forum: I'm a first time author and I've got a literary agent who is offering me 5% on cover price but I've to pay Rs 15,000 to the publisher he sets me up with apart from his agenting charges.

Please beware of such offers. Make sure you tie up with a genuine agent who will not charge for his/her services and then set you up with a vanity publisher. If at all you wish to go in for self or vanity publishing, there are publishers you could approach directly. If you have doubts, please ask a proper publishing professional/established author. Join online author groups where you can have your queries answered.

In my next column, I’ll provide more details about literary agencies old and new, so watch this space.