The sales figures are revealed …
It was time to have a conversation with Idle Tom the Publisher - a conversation which, for our own various reasons, we had both been avoiding.
“So, Tom,” I said. “What the hell’s happening with the sales of this book? Is it doing any good?”
“Sales are buoyant,” he said. “Sales are very good indeed.”
“Well that’s excellent.” I’m well used to these sort of conversations with Idle Tom. Getting information out of him is like getting blood out of a stone. “So what exactly do you mean by ‘very good indeed’?”
“Tons of ‘em.”
“Over 500?”
“500? We’re way over that! Way over!”
“A thousand?”
“Higher! Higher!”
“Two thousand?”
“Higher!”
“Hey! Well, I mean, that’s not quite as bad as I expected. It could definitely be worse.”
“What we need now, Old King Cole, is a stroke of luck. We need just that one little piece of rocket-fuel that’s going to send the Clavier into orbit. Maybe it could win a competition. You never know, it might do very well in the romantic novel of the year competition -”
“Yeah - maybe they have a special class for first time novels written by men.”
“You’d have quite a good chance of winning that. Or at least making the short-list. Possibly.”
“Anyway. What about the next book?” I said.
“What about it?”
“Have I scored up enough sales and shown enough general willingness for you to commission my next book?”
“What?!”
“And pay me an advance!”
“What’s that then? Let’s get back down to earth again. Now you know we’ve also got you in for the Booker Prize …”