Welcoming the new arrival

Academic books are not normally published with any great fanfare. Authors of fiction may, if they're lucky, expect signing events at their local bookstore or perhaps a launch party with champagne. But the writer of a scholarly work - "high protein nonfiction" as William Germano (2005, p.123) describes it - has to settle for a more modest welcome into the world for their creation. No academic book is going to be a bestseller and the lucrative sale of film rights is an even less likely prospect. Nevertheless, after years of research and long months of writing and editing, it is still something of an event when the newborn book arrives and the proud author finally gets to hold the pristine complimentary copies in his hands.

I remember when my firstborn book was delivered amid the mundane mayhem of domestic life. It was a Saturday afternoon and the carpet-fitters, having just conspicuously botched an ill-fitting piece of carpet around the fireplace, then decided they needed to completely remove the front door of our house, just as the postman arrived with the long-anticipated parcel. Of course, in the confusion, I wasn't able to savour that special moment when an author's first book is published. Later in the day, I tried to take time out to admire the look and feel of the finished product, but then life got in the way again as my teenage son announced he had just had his bike stolen. A day that had begun with the chaos of incompetent carpet-fitters ended with police officers' boots on our new carpet as they took a statement.

My latest book arrived, thankfully, amid less drama. Publishing nowadays is a very global affair so the book had already travelled halfway round the globe before landing eventually at my house. Commissioned - and written - in England, with series editors based in Switzerland and Denmark, contracts were drawn up in Switzerland, copy-editing took place in India before the book was printed in the Netherlands and dispatched from the distribution department in Germany.

I arrived home from work to be told a parcel had gone to the next-door neighbour. As I collected the package I resisted the temptation to brag to the neighbour that this wasn't any old order of books - it was my new book. Instead, I thanked her and returned home quietly to admire the new arrival. My wife had thoughtfully decorated the house with congratulations banners and balloons and my son had kindly made a playlist of celebratory songs to mark the event. Even if there was no book-signing or fancy launch party at least, this time, I was able to cherish my new book without the distractions of carpet-fitters or bicycle thieves.  

Reference

Germano, W. (2005). From Dissertation to Book. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.