Once you’ve been working as a Random House of Canada publicist for a while, it would only make sense that you stop being quite so star-struck and nervous around authors. You still appreciate them for their incredible talents, but you also learn to separate that from the job you have to do — mainly keeping those authors happy, relaxed, and above all prepared and on time for their media inteviews and events.
But all publishing folks have a couple of authors whose works have so touched their lives that this separation becomes difficult. We are, after all, book lovers first. I know of an editorial veteran who burst into tears the first time she met Alice Munro in person. When at McClelland & Stewart, I used to have to let Rohinton Mistry’s phonecalls go to voicemail, so I could compose myself before calling him back; such was my nervousness and awe.
And so my cool, calm and collected publicist veneer was in danger last week - I would spend two days with my favourite author of all, David Mitchell. My brother (also now an RHC employee, as fate would have it) sent me a copy of Cloud Atlas when I was a bit of a disillusioned English Lit majoir at McGill. I’d fallen into a theory-laden funk, which had sapped the true joy of reading out of picking up a book. With this attitude I picked up Cloud Atlas… only to fall through Mitchell’s rabbit hole, barely sleeping or eating over the next two days as with bliss and rapture I ate up every single word. He brought me back to books, and I will forever carry that gratitude inside me. I’ve read everything he’s written before and since, and have never been disappointed.
Mitchell was in Toronto promoting his newest brilliant novel, <a href=”http://www.booklounge.ca/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780676979299The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet” (pronounced “zoot.”). I was in charge of things running smoothly while he was here, and was both excited and terrified. What if I suddenly lost my ability to speak intelligently? What if I got us lost, or forgot an important detail? What if he hated me? And, perhaps most frightening, what if I hated him?
All fears were put to rest when he walked towards me at the hotel, bypassed my proffered hand, and gave me a hug. I didn’t think a thousand-watt smirk was possible, but I suppose that’s the British for you. He was charming, funny, animated and amiable, despite having just spent hours on a plane with very little sleep beforehand. He travels with his own tea bags. He tries to buy his own lunch. He says please and thank you and sorry more than any Canadian. He has a love of both crisp green apples and rich desserts (Portuguese custard tarts from St. Lawrence Market being a new fave). He’s utterly delightful.
I soon realized that I am only one in a large army of “Mitchell geeks.” Every interviewer had that same look of panic as I had before meeting him, and every one left beaming. We held a bookseller reception at our offices, with one woman traveling from as far as Halifax. He took time with every single person hoping to speak with him, as he did at his public event later that evening.
I met David when he visited Toronto about 5 years ago for Cloud Atlas. He’s such a sweet, considered and deeply grateful author. He’s exactly the kind of guy for whom you want good things to happen. Fingers crossed for The Man Booker Prize this year for The Thousand Autumns … - third time has got to be the charm, right? - Mike Fuhr, Director, National Accounts Marketing
The next day, an interviewer admitted that his girlfriend had tried to ask a question at the public event, only to be told there was no more time. So Mitchell asked if he could call her. From the middle of the interview. And he did. “Hi, this is David Mitchell. I hear you had a question for me?” The interviewer and his girlfriend were both shocked, and tickled.
Another interviewer asked Mitchell what he hoped people would take away from The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet. He said “the conviction that I haven’t wasted their time.” I can attest to the fact that there’s no better way one could spend it, whether with Mitchell’s words, or with the man himself.
Click here to start reading from The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet.
