… before the series was even published, or, “A lesson on pushing back when your editors have bad ideas.”
Most people know that Cozy Classics was originally published by Simply Read Books in 2012, and re-launched with Chronicle Books in 2015. What most people don’t know is that Cozy Classics was actually signed to another publisher—a small independent Vancouver press we’ll call “SmallCo”—even before we signed with Simply Read Books. Our relationship with SmallCo died on the vine, and this is the story of how that happened.
In the bigger picture, the lesson for authors and illustrators is that publishers and editors don’t always know your project as well as you do. Sometimes they come up with ideas that just don’t work. There are times you need to learn to compromise, times when you need to gently push back, and times when you need to cut and run!
So, I present, in chronological order, the three bad editorial ideas that almost killed Cozy Classics before the series even got off the ground…
BAD IDEA #1 – RE-TITLING THE CLASSICS
One of the principals of SmallCo had formerly been employed with a big US publisher. I mean big. She often made reference her own employment history to give herself an air of editorial authority. During our first meeting with her, she was brash and forward, but there was no denying her passion for books.
But one thing she said during our first meeting was a head-scratcher: she wanted to re-title some of the classics. For example, for Pride and Prejudice, she argued that babies wouldn’t know what “pride” or “prejudice” meant. But we thought, “Babies looking at word primers for the first time don’t know what any words mean!” And even though “pride” and “prejudice” are not the kid-friendliest words, when a child is old enough to ask what they mean, it’s not that hard to give simple definitions along the lines of “feeling good about who you are” and “believing something that’s not true.”
But the more critical point is that we weren’t doing a Pride and Prejudice spin-off (e.g. The Adventures of Lizzy and Darcy). We were doing THE definitive 12-word abridgment of Pride and Prejudice! The humor and irony would have been completely lost if the book was called The Adventures of Lizzy and Darcy:
To us, part of the appeal of launching a series like Cozy Classics was that the books would come pre-branded: the well-known and well-loved classic titles would be part of what drew buyers to the books. And it hardly needs to be said that book buyers are adults, not babies. For some reason, SmallCo wanted to throw all this cultural goodwill and marketing gold away for the sake of purported pedagogical appropriateness.
The suggestion left me and Jack uneasy from the start. We intended to push back on this idea with the publisher, but we never got the chance to, because another issue came up…
BAD IDEA #2 – LAUNCHING WITH A MINOR CLASSIC
Through our research—such as reviewing the Project Gutenberg Top 100 public domain Ebook downloads—Jack and I felt that Pride and Prejudice was the English-speaking world’s most popular “girl-friendly” classic (if not most popular classic, period!). Moby Dick vied with a few other titles as the English-speaking world’s most popular “boy-friendly” classic. So, we felt quite strongly that our series would have the best chance of getting off the ground if we launched with these two titles first.
SmallCo was fine with Moby Dick, but wanted to pair it with the Canadian classic Anne of Green Gables.
Don’t get us wrong—we love Anne of Green Gables. We’re Canadian, after all! But Anne seemed like a decided step down from Pride and Prejudice in terms of global popularity. Also, Anne didn’t seem like the right book to pair with Moby Dick, as it seemed to lack the appropriate literary gravitas. Anne was already considered by many to be children’s literature, which watered down our high concept of abridging The Great Books into word primers. So, Jack and I expressed our thoughts on the issue, and that’s when things came to a head.
SmallCo wrote to us, and here are some relevant snippets:
I also want to be extremely clear, from the very beginning of our working relationship, that it’s important that you allow us, as publisher, to do our jobs.
And:
I’ve been in the trade children’s book publishing industry since 1991. I’ve been in book publishing since 1985. Believe me; I’ve got North American copyright law down pat.
And:
Because we are a Canadian publisher and, if we are to do an adaptation of a series of classics, we need to launch with a Canadian Book. It’s just good manners. And it’s DAMNED GOOD MARKETING.
Trust me, there was a lot more in the email from SmallCo, but I’m only revealing information on a need-to-know basis.
On the first point, we wrote back:
Your response left the distinct impression that you had already made a unilateral decision and that our opinions will always matter less than yours. Instead of consulting us on the second book, you lectured us. This is not the kind of treatment we expect from our publisher.
On the second point, I note that I’m a lawyer who once practiced a fair bit of intellectual property law. SmallCo thought that the legal issue with doing Anne was a copyright permission issue, but it wasn’t. The book is already in the public domain. The real issue was a trademark issue (ANNE OF GREEN GABLES is trademarked for a series of books), and I had to explain the problem to SmallCo as follows:
We would need to enter into a trademark licensing agreement with the Anne of Green Gables Licensing Authority, which is jointly run by the heirs of Lucy Maud Montgomery and the Province of Prince Edward Island. It is a public authority whose stated purpose is to “control and oversee the use of the images of Anne and world-wide Anne trademarks through a licensing program”, and to collect royalties for the heirs and the province.
To be an Anne licensee would be akin to owning a franchise in Subway. Licensors must control the quality of the wares or services offered by a multitude of licensees (this is why all Subways are virtually identical) so it appears that there is only one source of goods. In our case, this means that the Authority will exert direct editorial control over any Anne book we produce. Moreover, any such book would have to be seen by the buying public as an extension of the existing Anne brand, not a new artistic creation. Creating books under licensor control is completely untenable to us.
The most egregious part of SmallCo’s insistence on doing Anne of Green Gables was that the contract we had just signed (which SmallCo drafted!) assigned the responsibility for securing and paying for third party intellectual property rights to the authors and illustrators. The upshot was that SmallCo was forcing us to go out and secure the rights to Anne at our own cost!
After much debate, Jack and I decided that the relationship with SmallCo wasn’t going to work out—legally or editorially. We were disappointed at the thought of being without a publisher, but we had no choice but to move on for the sake of producing the kinds of books we believed in. We took the position that SmallCo was in breach of the publishing contract by directing us to enter a licensing deal, and we terminated the contract.
With respect to SmallCo’s third point—that a Canadian publisher needs to publish a Canadian title because “It’s just good manners”—I’ll admit that minding our Canadian publishing Ps and Qs was the last thing on our minds. Our ambitions were global, not regional. And we simply wanted to be true to our concept. At the end of the day, we suspected that SmallCo pushed hard for a Canadian title because they were more worried about securing Canadian grant funding for their operation (which is enhanced when Canadian titles are published) than the best possible launch for the series.
When we ultimately launched with Pride and Prejudice and Moby Dick in December 2012, we had no doubt that we made the right call. We not only garnered attention in Canada, but also in the US, England and Australia. Janites were big supporters of our books, allowing us to tap into a fan network that was much more robust than the one for Anne. Cozy Classics was on its way.
Sometimes, it’s critical to identify when your interests as an author or illustrator diverge from the interests of the publisher, and either seek to align those interests, or, if you can, move on from the relationship.
BAD IDEA #3 – DITCHING THE 12-WORD CONCEPT
From the start, Cozy Classics has always been extremely high concept: take adult classics, with tens of thousands of words, and abridge them into word primers with just 12 words and 12 images that can be shared with the youngest of learners.
After Simply Read Books acquired our high-concept series, they did an abrupt editorial U-turn. They suggested that instead of being word primers, the books should have short sentences. And instead of asking us to prepare new manuscripts, they just took the liberty of completely re-writing the manuscripts for us!
For Moby Dick, for example, they proposed the following for the opening spread:
Call me Ishmael.
I am a sailor.
But the famous first lines of each classic we abridge are already integrated into the first illustration. So “Call me Ishmael” was entirely redundant, and the addition of the words “I am a” before “sailor” added nothing.
For the scene where Moby Dick slams himself into the Pequod, accompanied by the single word “smash,” they proposed:
But he turned and smashed into our ship.
He swam away.
Again, the extra text added very little if anything to the drama of the scene, which was already vividly conveyed in the single word and the illustration. But the extra words did have the effect of seriously diluting our high concept—the books would no longer be word primers. Instead, they would just be very short abridgements, with language that didn’t come close to replicating the music of the original text. We felt that this would just open us up to criticism that the abridgements were lousy. Jack, in particular, stuck to his guns and pushed back hard on the idea of sentences.
Ultimately, we won this argument with Simply Read Books, who were good collaborative partners on the artistic side. And when Cozy Classics generated a lot of buzz upon publication (with media enchanted by the 12-word concept), the publisher candidly admitted to us that sticking with the original vision was the right call.
WE’RE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT
Good editors and supportive publishers are critical to the success of your books. This post is by no means a put-down of editors and publishers in general! In fact, there have been artistic arguments Jack and I have fought that, in hindsight, we were wrong about. For example, our fabulous original book designer, Sara Gillingham, did a rough first cut of the interiors where all the verso pages were an old-timey beige. This mimicked the look on an old novel, which Jack and I loved.
Later on, Simply Read Books sent us revised interiors with colored verso pages. In comparison to the original design, the pinks, blues and greens seemed distracting and garish to us (and the pink even seemed a bit cliché for a “girl-friendly” title).
We wanted to stick with the original design. But after some convincing, we agreed that colored pages were probably more appealing and less monotonous for kids. In the end, the colored pages were the right call, which proves that the instincts of authors and illustrators aren’t always right.
The big lesson in all this is that sometimes it’s a challenge when the ideas of authors and illustrators clash with those of editors and publishers. To quote Kenny Rogers: “You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away and know when to run.” Think hard about the vision for your books, and what you want to bring to children’s publishing. Sometimes, you need to learn to live with—even embrace—changes. But when your truest vision for your work is being unduly compromised, don’t be afraid to push back.