This is a true story:
My first book was acquired by two people I will call Editor A and Editor B, who ran a small imprint at a big publishing house. We had a great lunch to celebrate. A few months later, Editor A left book publishing to become a newspaper writer. Editor B became my primary editor. She and I had a nice lunch to talk about my book.
A few months after that, Editor B was promoted to publisher of the larger house—let us call it Publisher W—that owned the small imprint. Because Editor B—that is, Editor/Publisher B—now had too many duties to edit my book, I was assigned to Editor C.
Editor C and I had lunch. A few months later, he got a new job at another publishing house. I was assigned to Editor D.
Editor D and I had lunch. It was a pleasant-enough lunch, but Editor D had no actual interest in my book or me; he was just taking it on because Editor/Publisher B, now his boss, had asked him to.
A few months later, Editor/Publisher B was fired.
A few months after that, Editor D, now freed from his promise to Editor/Publisher B to oversee my project, asked me if my book was done because according to my contract, it was due.
My book was not done.
I paid back my advance to Publisher W and sold my book proposal to Publisher X. My editor at Publisher X—let’s see, that would be Editor E—had been a magazine editor, and was brand-new to the publishing world and full of crazy excitement about it. I was starting to get a little sensitive about all this change, and I asked Editor E if there was any chance that the publishing world would not always seem to her worthy of crazy excitement; that is, I asked Editor E if she thought she would ever leave. Editor E assured me that this was simply not possible.
Editor E and I had lunch. A few months later, she called me and said an incredible opportunity had presented itself in the newspaper world and she was leaving.
I was assigned to Editor F. I was very scared of Editor F, and I don’t think we had lunch. I finished my book. I had the longest acknowledgment section in the history of the written word.
I could go on, about how I left Publishing House X for Publishing House Y because I was still scared of Editor F, and how at Publishing House Y I managed to get three books written there working with Editor G—who assured me that he would never leave, and this was almost true, except for a brief period when he did, in fact, leave, but then he came back—and then the head of Publisher Y got fired, and eventually I left and then Editor F left, and then I was working with Publisher Z, and then the head of Publisher Z left, and then I left Publisher Z to go back to Publisher W, because the person now running it was an old friend from the magazine world, who I knew would never leave, but you might think I was exaggerating. But I’m not.
Anyway, the head of Publishing House W and I had lunch to celebrate my return to Publisher W. A few months later, he got fired.
My new publisher, at Publishing House W, is Editor G, who left Publishing House Y for the job. As some great philosopher once said, it’s like déjà vu all over again. This time, though, I am going to suggest we skip the lunch.
