Why good writing feels true and surprising
Tess Nichol is the former deputy editor of North & South and is the new publisher at Allen & Unwin.
Tell us, what does a publisher do?
As I recently found out, it’s a common misconception that as a publisher you’ll spend your days sorting the wheat from the chaff from mountains of manuscripts submitted by hopeful novelists. Being a publisher is in fact much more proactive, and in some ways a lot like being a magazine editor: coming up with fresh, interesting ideas and sweettalking talented people into writing about them for you, then helping each author to refine concepts and drafts to create a piece of writing that people want to read right to the end.
What makes a piece of writing ‘‘good’’ and what will you be looking for as a publisher?
A good piece of writing, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, is one which feels both true and surprising. True as in keenly observed and willing to accept ambiguity or nuance, and surprising as in leading you somewhere new or not settling on the easy answer. Good writing treats its readers with respect, and isn’t pandering. Good writing is written with conviction, by a writer who is taking themselves seriously. Speaking of surprise, it’s such an important element in humour – I recently read Anything is Possible by Elizabeth Strout, who is a master of both truth and surprise. I laughed at so many little unexpected observations about the way people behave which immediately felt completely accurate, but which had never occurred to me beforehand.
What are you reading?
I am in the middle of re-reading The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante – I love re-reading books but no-one is more satisfying to re-read than Ferrante. The force of her writing means that the first time you read any of her novels you’re just being swept along by the narrative – it’s only on the rereads that you are able to start noticing all the rich little details that make her work so incredible. What I actually need to read, though, are the 23 unopened issues of the New Yorker in my lounge. These magazines cause me quite a lot of pain – symbols of my failure to keep up with world events and be the cultured, literary person I wish I was. I refuse to throw them away even though every time I feel like I’m making a dent, three new issues arrive in the post. I opened one recently and was relieved to see it was mainly puzzles – like turning up to school and learning you’re going to watch a movie instead.