office. There had even been talk about forming a book group, although he wasn’t sure what had come of it.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ryan said. ‘Let me put it in context. It’s a work of literary merit, but also one of those rare birds that crosses the genres and has popular appeal. It won a prestigious prize but Joe refused point blank to come to the awards ceremony. He made some excuse about being ill, but I knew it was because he didn’t want to come. In the end I had to collect the award for him. He positively loathed the limelight.’
‘I understand a journalist called Anna Paget was interviewing him.’
She shook her head. ‘I doubt it. I’ll ask his publicist, but last thing I heard Joe wouldn’t speak to anybody, and I mean anybody .’
‘I’d appreciate it if you’d check before we leave.’
‘Sure,’ she said with a shrug.
‘When did you last talk to him?’
‘Not since our lunch. After the awards dinner Radio 4 were chasing us, offering Joe a slot on Front Row with Mark Lawson, and I hoped we might be able to twist his arm somehow. His publicist had had no luck, so I tried calling and left a couple of messages, but he didn’t return any of my calls either.’
‘Why was he so reluctant?’
‘Most writers hate being involved in publicity. They’re very comfortable putting words on paper, but talking about it is another thing. Doing interviews and book signings also takes up a lot of time.’
‘Why did you keep badgering him then, if he didn’t want to do it?’ Donovan asked.
Ryan leaned back in her chair and gave a heavy sigh. ‘Unfortunately it’s part of the job these days, particularly if you find yourself winning a prize and with a bestseller on your hands. I understood it was difficult for Joe. He wrote his book, took several years to do it from what he told me, and he felt that that should be enough. The book should stand or fall on its own merits as if it was totally independent of him.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘We badly needed his support to promote it. People are interested, they want to know about the writer, particularly when it’s someone who’s come from nowhere and had such unexpected success.’
‘And you want to sell books,’ Tartaglia said.
She smiled. ‘Naturally, although it’s not just about the money, at least not for me. Very few of our writers make it to the best-seller lists. Most of the time it’s about covering our costs and hopefully making a small margin, but when you hit the jackpot, well, of course it’s fantastically satisfying for everybody involved. It gave us all such a buzz and it wasn’t purely the sales numbers.’
The pressure on Logan to perform must have been huge, Tartaglia thought. He remembered what Maggie Thomas had told him about Logan’s aversion to publicity. Whilst he could see both sides of the coin, his sympathies leaned towards Logan. If it had taken him years to write his novel, it must have meant a great deal to him; it must have been something incredibly personal. Clearly he had never envisaged the book being such a success and perhaps that wasn’t part of the bargain as far as he was concerned.
‘You worked closely with him?’ he asked.
‘We had a few meetings, but we mainly communicated by email or phone. He said it was difficult coming to London. I have to say he wasn’t the easiest writer to edit; he absolutely hated making even the smallest changes. He found the whole process incredibly painful and I was sorry for that, but there was nothing I could do.’
‘How well did you know Joe? I mean, how much do you know about his personal life?’
‘Not a great deal, I have to say. I know he wasn’t married, and I don’t remember his ever mentioning a partner. The protagonist in Indian Summer is straight, so I sort of assumed Joe was too, but I never thought much beyond that. On the few occasions we met, we talked about the book. He wasn’t at all chatty or forthcoming about himself. He
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ryan said. ‘Let me put it in context. It’s a work of literary merit, but also one of those rare birds that crosses the genres and has popular appeal. It won a prestigious prize but Joe refused point blank to come to the awards ceremony. He made some excuse about being ill, but I knew it was because he didn’t want to come. In the end I had to collect the award for him. He positively loathed the limelight.’
‘I understand a journalist called Anna Paget was interviewing him.’
She shook her head. ‘I doubt it. I’ll ask his publicist, but last thing I heard Joe wouldn’t speak to anybody, and I mean anybody .’
‘I’d appreciate it if you’d check before we leave.’
‘Sure,’ she said with a shrug.
‘When did you last talk to him?’
‘Not since our lunch. After the awards dinner Radio 4 were chasing us, offering Joe a slot on Front Row with Mark Lawson, and I hoped we might be able to twist his arm somehow. His publicist had had no luck, so I tried calling and left a couple of messages, but he didn’t return any of my calls either.’
‘Why was he so reluctant?’
‘Most writers hate being involved in publicity. They’re very comfortable putting words on paper, but talking about it is another thing. Doing interviews and book signings also takes up a lot of time.’
‘Why did you keep badgering him then, if he didn’t want to do it?’ Donovan asked.
Ryan leaned back in her chair and gave a heavy sigh. ‘Unfortunately it’s part of the job these days, particularly if you find yourself winning a prize and with a bestseller on your hands. I understood it was difficult for Joe. He wrote his book, took several years to do it from what he told me, and he felt that that should be enough. The book should stand or fall on its own merits as if it was totally independent of him.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘We badly needed his support to promote it. People are interested, they want to know about the writer, particularly when it’s someone who’s come from nowhere and had such unexpected success.’
‘And you want to sell books,’ Tartaglia said.
She smiled. ‘Naturally, although it’s not just about the money, at least not for me. Very few of our writers make it to the best-seller lists. Most of the time it’s about covering our costs and hopefully making a small margin, but when you hit the jackpot, well, of course it’s fantastically satisfying for everybody involved. It gave us all such a buzz and it wasn’t purely the sales numbers.’
The pressure on Logan to perform must have been huge, Tartaglia thought. He remembered what Maggie Thomas had told him about Logan’s aversion to publicity. Whilst he could see both sides of the coin, his sympathies leaned towards Logan. If it had taken him years to write his novel, it must have meant a great deal to him; it must have been something incredibly personal. Clearly he had never envisaged the book being such a success and perhaps that wasn’t part of the bargain as far as he was concerned.
‘You worked closely with him?’ he asked.
‘We had a few meetings, but we mainly communicated by email or phone. He said it was difficult coming to London. I have to say he wasn’t the easiest writer to edit; he absolutely hated making even the smallest changes. He found the whole process incredibly painful and I was sorry for that, but there was nothing I could do.’
‘How well did you know Joe? I mean, how much do you know about his personal life?’
‘Not a great deal, I have to say. I know he wasn’t married, and I don’t remember his ever mentioning a partner. The protagonist in Indian Summer is straight, so I sort of assumed Joe was too, but I never thought much beyond that. On the few occasions we met, we talked about the book. He wasn’t at all chatty or forthcoming about himself. He
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