New Door Books began as a glimmer in the eye of Debra Leigh Scott, a writer, teacher, and member of the Working Writers Group (WWG) in Philadelphia. The WWG is a small group who have met monthly since 1985 (yes, that long!) to read and critique each others’ work. In 2007 Debra proposed that it might be time for the WWG to start a press of its own.
For years we’ve commiserated about the decline of mainstream literary publishing. As a book editor I’ve heard similar complaints since the 1970s–and unlike the stock market, there have seldom been any ups to match the downs. In this same period, though, small alternative presses have proliferated, to the point that the International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses boasts nearly 4,000 entries. Recently, too, the growth of print-on-demand and online distribution have made it possible to begin publishing with little upfront investment.
At first I resisted Debra’s idea, but as time passed I began to understand how the WWG might offer something special to the world of small presses. In terms of literary taste, ethnic group, religion, etc., we’re a diverse group, which makes for some lively discussions. At the same time we share a kind of straightforward, unpretentious outlook on literature, one that emphasizes the reader’s experience. We value the quality of a work rather than its marketability, but we don’t talk about Art with a capital “A” or other abstractions. We like well-written books that have something to say.
At a group meeting, then, I suggested an unconventional arrangement: My company, which does book production, would set up a fiction imprint, and the WWG would serve as the editorial board. A liberal share of any profits would go to the authors. The idea was approved, and after about 10,000 e-mail messages we settled on a name: New Door Books. For our first title, we quickly chose Hanah’s Paradise by Ligia Ravé.
We had read and admired portions of Hanah’s Paradise after Ligia joined the WWG in 2005, and in many ways the novel epitomized the problems in American publishing. It had been passed over by major U.S. publishers because it was too “intellectual”; yet a Spanish publisher had commissioned a translation and published the book to considerable acclaim in Spain in 2007. It’s a wonderful, tragic, hilarious, mystical, sensual novel, challenging to both the mind and the heart. What it says about Jewish life across the centuries really applies to everyone, especially to the millions of people who still live in some sort of cultural exile. How could we let a book like this remain unpublished in English, the language in which it was written?
We’re tremendously proud to have Hanah’s Paradise as our first publication. Among our forthcoming titles, some will probably have Jewish themes (of the post-Bellow, post-Potok generations), others not. All of them, we hope, will measure up to the high standard that Ligia has set for us.
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