Industry Innovators: Jan Latta

Jan Latta – author, wildlife photographer and Independent Publisher

In 1994 Jan came face-to-face with a mountain gorilla in Rwanda and the experience changed her life. When her guide said there were fewer than 600 mountain gorillas left in the wild, she decided to publish books for children on endangered animals. But first she became a wildlife photographer so she could tell the animal's stories in pictures as well as words.

She went back to Africa to learn wildlife photography. She followed elephants, dangerous rhinos, prides of lions, gentle giraffes, and had a wonderful experience with two cheetahs. Then to the Wolong mountains in China for pandas, jungles of Borneo with orangutans, Sri Lanka for the elusive leopard and Uganda for Dr Jane Goodalls’ chimps. She has had some amazing adventures, and near-death experiences, following her dream to help the survival of endangered animals.

As a very successful independent publisher what has been the key aspect of your success?

A lot of hard work because I had to become the author, wildlife photographer, designer and publisher to make the books affordable for schools. 

How do you deal with distribution?

I've been lucky to have a good distributor in Australia, Tom Danby of INT Books, Frank Cai of Blue Fountain in China, (where I go each year to talk at schools), and I'm just working with a new Hong Kong distributor, Fields & Associates.

Tell us about your books and why you decided to independently publish?

The concept for the True to Life Books are the endangered animals talking to children about their life in the wild – where they live, what they eat, how they hunt, and how they survive. So it was important to become a wildlife photographer to tell the animal's story in photographs as well as words.  Each trip is very expensive – flying to the animals natural habitat, living in a tent and paying a special guide who supplies the facts about each animal. He also keeps me safe! No publishing house is going to finance me to go into the wild with the possibility of getting usable photographs. I became an independent publisher so book sales could help finance my adventures creating the next book. 

Which book of yours do you love most and why?

That is difficult to answer because each book has been my favourite when the printer sends the first sample. It is such a thrill turning the pages for the first time and seeing months of hard work in colour. Lennie the Leopard took 15 years to complete, so that was the most expensive book to produce with trips to Africa and Sri Lanka. The Diary of a Wildlife Photographer book was a challenge when the ABC asked me to write a journal covering  20 years of adventures creating the True to Life Books.

How important is it to get design and layout right?

Very important. I like a simple design and use the strength of the photographs to tell the story with a simple text. It is especially important to have clean typography with a large font for children's books.

How do you achieve the balance between income and passion for your topic?

I went from a highly paid creative director to a self publisher who had to fund nine trips to Africa, two to China, Borneo, India, also Ugunda and Sri Lanka.

I love what I do so income is not as important as children learning about the animals and librarians supporting the series of True to Life books. 

Interviews with Industry Leaders: Karen Tayleur

Karen Tayleur—Editorial Manager, The Five Mile Press

Karen has written over 40 books for children, published both in Australia and internationally. She is currently the Editorial Manager at The Five Mile Press and her favourite motto is 'Life is not a dress rehearsal'.

Karen Tayleur—Editorial Manager,
The Five Mile Press

How did you wend your way into publishing?

A pretty straight-forward route, actually:

HSC > Bank Teller > finance officer ^ short story course CIT> work as a copywriter ^ copywriting & marketing RMIT ^ typesetting course ^ co-publisher Brave New Word  Short Story Magazine > Desktop Publishing Tech Support > owner/operator DTP business > admin/dtp at Melbourne Tourism Authority > dtp operator local newspaper > ^ professional writing and editing course > journalist local newspaper > editor performing arts magazine> managing editor same > ^ first book published  ^ Cert IV workplace training & assessment ^ further books published > editor black dog books > ^ sessional teacher at TAFE  ^ managing editor Black Dog Books > freelance editor/sessional teaching ^ fellowship at May Gibbs ^ Post-grad Certificate Children's Literature > editor at The Five Mile Press ^ Masters of Arts, Lit & Writing >  Editorial Manager The Five Mile Press

This seemed to work.

However, I would suggest a less circuitous route.

 How much is gut instinct and how much is reading the market when choosing books to publish?

The books we choose need to fit our list.

I know, you've probably heard that before.

What I mean is that I am not going to look at a 60,000-word World War II memoir for the Children's List. 

So the first consideration is the shape of the list, while always keeping an eye on potential growth or change to that shape.

The second consideration is the current market — what's hot and what's not — while looking beyond that to the 'next new thing' - so crystal-ball gazing at that point.

I also need to consider our current sales channels and where the book might sell.

The greatest consideration is the quality and uniqueness of the submission: does it stand out from the hundreds of submissions we see each year? Is there a unique style and/or authorial voice? Will the book appeal to children?

What are some of your all-time favourite kids’ books and what makes you so excited about them?

Seven Little Australians - Ethel Turner

All of a Kind Family - Sydney Taylor

The Railway Children - Edith Nesbitt

Each of these books featured a large family in the main cast of characters. This fascinated me as a child as I only had one sibling. I fantasised what it would be like to find myself part of a much larger family. I was heartbroken (spoiler alert) when Judy died in Seven Little Australians. It was the second puncture in my shield of childhood innocence. (The first was the death of Charlotte in Charlotte's Web.)

Hills End - Ivan Southall

This book was read to us during one hot summer when I was in Grade 6. The story was a reward to students on a Friday afternoon if we had fulfilled all tasks for the week — one chapter at a time (or two if we pleaded enough). Our teacher read it to the backdrop of cicadas, the throb of traffic from beyond the school gates, and the drone of the Grade 5 teacher's voice next door. We were captivated one and all.

Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson

From my dad's bookshelf. A modest blue linen cover adorned only with a gold title and author name, it held such an exciting world inside.

Both books promoted children's agency, in a world (the 60s/70s) where many considered 'children should be seen and not heard'.

A Wrinkle in Time - Madeleine L'Engle

Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

Opened the doors to fantastical new worlds and possibilities.

Charlotte's Web - E.B. White

In Grade 5 a new librarian started at school. His name was Mr Zooker and he had lovely shoulder-length hair, false eyelashes and wore long boots with his maxi skirt. He read Charlotte's Web each Library session for a month and our project that term was to make a diorama of our favourite scene from the book. 

I couldn't look Mr Zooker in the eye, as it didn't seem right that he should be wearing false eyelashes and skirts to school. I didn't talk about it with my friends as they didn't seem to think it was a problem. I did discuss it with my father. 

The ensuing discussion was about seeing beyond the facade of a person. Beyond race, religion and gender. These were things we had talked about before at the dinner table, but I felt very grown up because this discussion was one-on-one. I promised to make an effort and next library session I looked Mr Zooker right in the eye, gave him a big smile, and tried to ignore his five o'clock shadow.

I looked beyond the fact that Charlotte was a spider and instead saw the qualities that made her a good friend. It's a lesson that has stayed with me. 

It took me a couple of weeks to work out that Mr Zooker was Miss De Zuker. 

But to be fair she had a very deep voice.

What is your take on the kids’ book publishing world today? Has it changed very much since you started?

I moved into kids' book publishing before JK Rowling — or, as I call it, BJK.

Well-meaning acquaintances would ask when I was moving into the real world of publishing (i.e. adult titles).

The whole Harry Potter phenomenon saw an avalanche of stories pouring into the slush pile. 

People who had never even put pen to paper were suddenly aspiring authors.

Random strangers at social events assured me that they had the next Harry Potter book in them.

Children's publishing was suddenly fashionable.

Also today, more than ever, it's all about the latest thing: the latest phone, the latest film and the latest book. Backlist feels like a thing of the past. This doesn't make sense to me. A good book is a good book. Art shouldn't be a disposable commodity. Some of the books I read as a child were decades (and more) old. I can't imagine missing out on them because they weren't 'the latest'. Where are the next children's classics coming from if they are only shelved in-store for three months?

As a writer, how do you decide which project you’ll work on next? How do you prepare the idea and the pitch? What is your process of pitching?

It has to be about the project that is shouting loudest to me.

I wrote my first pitch ever on a train trip to work.

I'd written a short story that I thought had legs and wanted to turn it into something more.

I wrote a query letter that didn't sound like a business letter and I secured a contract.

I've stayed with that pitching idea for subsequent books.

I like to have a strong idea of  the character and will have written a scene or five before I pitch an idea to my publisher. I have been lucky having such as wonderful trade publisher in black dog books. I actually wrote for them before I joined their team as an editor. Usually the pitch is in response to 'so what are you doing next?' So first there is a conversation. And then the pitch — no more than an A4 page — which includes a sample of the writing I have already done.

What advice would you give authors who’d like to pitch to you?

Can you write your pitch in one line?

My book is about… (fill in the gaps).

This might sound easy, but sometimes it's a very hard thing to do.

Distilling the essence of your story into one line that will attract the curiosity of an editor or publisher means you have to have a very clear idea of what you are wanting to achieve.

And if you can't do that, then maybe your submission isn't ready yet.

Also, I don't want a business letter.

By that, I mean, I want it to be professional — no flowery fonts, or pink paper, or glitter when I open the envelope — but I also want to see the personality of the author. I want to get a sense of who they are.

Publishing is a business.

Writing and illustration is an incredibly personal thing.

But submitting work to be published means you lose total control over your work.

It changes from the idea of 'art' to the idea of 'work'.

Are you open to working with others in a collaborative fashion?

Can you take editorial feedback?

If you've never been part of a workshop process, then feedback can be terribly confronting.

Finally, the floor is yours. Any last words? 

Bad reasons to write for children:

You are ready to make a billion dollars.

You have children and you could write/illustrate a better book than some of the children's books you have recently read.

You have had children/known children/been a child and you know what they are interested in.

Good reasons to write/illustrate for children:

That moment you sit down to create a story, 

the moment you get that feeling of excitement in the pit of your stomach when you nail that perfect voice, scene, facial expression, hair texture,

that ah-hah moment, 

that feeling of loss when you finally finish… 

these are all good reasons to create stories for children.

And whether you share this story with one child or a billion, the payback is priceless.

Interviews with Industry Leaders: Brandon VanOver

Brandon VanOver,
Managing Editor, Random House

Tell us a little about your role at Random House and how you got there?

I worked in New York at the literary agency Curtis Brown for several years, initially as a switchboard jockey before becoming an assistant to the legendary and formidable children’s book agent Marilyn E. Marlow. Under her tutelage I learned how to craft an email by drafting it twenty times before it was acceptable. I learned that a love of books isn’t incompatible with the ends of commerce. (Much like sneaking out the window to marry your high school sweetheart after your parents said you couldn’t ‘live off love’.) I was taught that it’s ‘draperies’ and not ‘drapes’, and ‘never be the last one to leave a party’, despite the fact that I always seem to be. Most of all, I was taught how to believe in a manuscript before it was in any kind of shape to make it across a publisher’s desk or into an acquisitions meeting.

Brandon VanOver
Managing Editor, Random House

I moved to Sydney and read a few YA manuscripts for Eva Mills at Random House between my hours labouring for a plumber and a caterer while my application for residency was on a slow rotisserie spit somewhere in Washington, DC. An opening eventually came up as the editorial assistant at Random House, and I was able to get that rare and crucial foot in the door. What I loved the most about being an aspiring agent was working closely with authors, nurturing those first hunches and editing fairly raw manuscripts – which, in addition to being a crap salesman, really confirmed that I should be an editor and not an agent.

‘Maintaining the tea and milk supply’ was in my job description as editorial assistant, but it never came to that. The only way to learn how to edit is to edit, and I was given every opportunity to develop that skill and get a nose for what is substance and what is chaff. I fed off working around the editors, hearing their case studies and cautionary tales. I got a buzz watching the publishers pitch and hone their books. And eventually I was able to work with some fantastic authors of my own. For the past five years I’ve been the managing editor – allocating projects to the editors and guiding books through a busy publishing program every year, managing plant costs, negotiating terms with suppliers, representing editorial concerns at various meetings, steering us into digital formats (often capsizing on exposed reef in the process) – but I still spend the majority of my time editing.

Could you tell us the process of what happens after a first draft lands on your desk?

The first step is usually to produce a structural report on a submitted draft, assessing the overall strengths and weaknesses of the work – its tone, characterisation, narrative flow, the way plot lines interrelate. Sometimes an author might take the story down several wrong paths before finding their intended one; this diversion can result in pages of loose material that needs to be revised, pared back or cut completely. Whether in books or film, we’ve all had that moment when we’ve asked ourselves: Was that really necessary? Does that character justify his or her existence? What am I really being told? Where’s the resolution? What’s the point? An author might fall in love with an idea or character that, while having some merit, fails to pull its weight or advance the story. The book might actually begin fifty pages in, or end fifty pages early. At this point I’m not really worried about commas or syntax. Once the essential elements are in place, then I can begin the process of revising on a paragraph-by-paragraph, sentence-by-sentence, word-by-word level. Hopefully you hit the bedrock of clarity, the articulation of an idea that isn’t lost in its own artistry, or cleverness, or self-awareness. That’s the point where the editor becomes just a reader and gets lost in a story, just like you’re reading it for the first time. Sounds idealistic, but so am I.

 What do you see as the main priorities in your role?

My main priority is to help an author see their story more clearly and, once the story is known, then figuring out the best way to tell it, in the best structure and clearest language possible (which isn’t always ultra-concise or easily accessible – all due respect, Cult of Hemingway). I’m not afraid of confronting or complicated ideas, as long as they serve a purpose. The Good Book tells us that ‘we see through a glass darkly’, and most of our problems as people come from a blindness to the confounding circumstances and events we often find ourselves and others in. The greatest stories, the finest uses of language, help us poke and prod and scratch our way out of seemingly impossible situations. If what we find is good and uplifting, great. If what we find is crap, then we will know the true amplitude of its crappiness. It’s my job to ask the right questions to hopefully steer a story to the best conclusion, to help find the right word, understanding the whole time that I am not the author, that I’m privileged to be Tonto.

 What do you look for in a great story?

For me, a great story is true to the rules it has set out for itself. Whatever the narrative mechanisms the author puts into place may be, it must hum along so you can hear its humming, the flywheel spinning, the tumblers falling into place. No matter how off-beat or bizarre it might be, it’s important that the story is consistent, believable and whole within itself.

I also think that great stories tackle the great issues of being a human, the classic ones – love and death, loss and gain, family and solitude, fear and triumph. You can read the oldest books in civilisation, like Gilgamesh, written over four thousand years ago, but you still find characters who are immensely relatable, entirely human and dealing with the same stuff you deal with – in the case of Gilgamesh, an intimate friendship, tragic loss and the question of immortality.

 What stories make your heart sing?

I like stories of weakness turned to strength, of finding moments of truth and revelation among the doubt and humiliations of life. I like literal and metaphorical quests, and stories that tell us we’re all in this s**t together. I’ve always hated seeing people’s dignity taken away from them, so I like seeing stories where that dignity is restored, with the help of a community or through an individual’s own determination and bravery. No matter how conventional people appear to be, we are all seriously strange and wonderfully flawed, and I like stories that are as bizarre as life is. I like fierce, original writing. I like stories of man confronting nature and journeys in the natural world. And I like candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach.  

 Do you have any editorial rules you work by for preparing a great edit?

I think it’s important to have an initial read-through without taking notes or marking up a manuscript, just to get the overall feel and shape of the story. And then I like to map it out, almost forensically, on a sketch pad. This gives me a visual picture of the story, the characters, the themes, the plot movements. It’s hard for different parts of your brain to fire at the same time (at least for me!) so the pure immersion into a story, turning off the more clinically editorial parts of the brain, gives you an initial gut feeling about what’s working and what’s not. Then you can read more with the head and have a more intellectual response.

You wouldn’t know it if you saw my desk, but I do like my physical surroundings to be organised and uncluttered. And, especially for the initial reading of a manuscript, I like to give it my complete, undivided attention, which requires blocking out time in a busy day.

 What tips would you have for writers preparing to deliver their manuscripts?

 Don’t feel like you need to have all the answers upfront. Never having written anything longer than an 8,000-word essay on Whitman’s ‘Crossing Brooklyn Ferry’, I can’t truly know the labour involved in writing a full-length work (the mental stamina needed, the rigor, the depth of imagination, the cycle of belief and doubt, etc.) But I do know what it feels like to be lost in your own mind and then having the company of a person you trust to make you feel a little less crazy and little more validated. As an author it’s probably in your nature to want to craft and refine and spit-polish (burn, recant, resurrect), but I would also suggest that a good editor is really the most useful early on in the process, when you’re looking down a few different paths in the labyrinth, unsure which one to take. Good publishers often fill this role too. Sometimes I find that the real chemistry between an author and editor doesn’t start firing until the manuscript is too far down its path and the to-print date is looming. That’s when people are tempted to settle.

And likewise, when you think you’ve bedded down an idea, take a break then come back and think of ways to push it further, ways to re-examine it or find alternative paths. You might conclude that your original idea is the best, but nine times out of ten you’ll borrow fragments, accents, shades from these discarded ideas to make that original one hum. 

And for the final word…over to you.

The plastic bag scene in American Beauty, when Ricky Fitts says, ‘Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in’ is the kind of line that everyone kind of loved when they first saw the movie. Then everyone found it corny and overly earnest. Now it sounds almost laughable and naïve given it was pre-millennium, pre-9/11 and pre-all-the-horrible-rest-that-followed. But it’s the perfect sentiment to me given my experience in publishing, as an editor and as a reader and a person who loves watching authors perform these amazingly creative acts. I think as long as we continue to be moved by the world in its horrible entirety, and actively seek out experiences that suffocate us with beauty (what the Buddhists call the ‘joyful participation in the sorrows of man’), we are fuller human beings. We’re four-dimensional, hell, maybe even more.