Tag: D&M

It was wonderful to see everyone last night at a reception in recognition of Scott McIntyre’s tremendous contributions to Canadian culture. Andy Sylvester generously hosted the event at the Equinox Gallery, and the evening’s focus was an immensely touching Squamish Nation blanket ceremony: representatives of the Squamish Nation wrapped Scott McIntyre in one of their beautiful blankets, which represented the warm embrace of his friends, family, and community. He stood on four other blankets as various speakers—witnesses, as they were called—came forward to say a few words about what Scott has meant to them personally as well as to their cause; those blankets under Scott would “catch the intent” of the witnesses.

Russell Keziere thanked Scott for his enthusiasm, support, and unflappable confidence (“Of course you can do this!”) while Keziere was trying to establish Vanguard magazine, a publication out of the Vancouver Art Gallery about Canadian art and artists. Michael Audain, philanthropist and self-described “art groupie,” spoke about how much he’s gained by reading Douglas & McIntyre’s great art books and how, after decades of helping others tell their stories, perhaps it’s now time for Scott McIntyre to write his own. Margaret Reynolds of the Association of Book Publishers of British Columbia thanked Scott for the muscle he flexed in lobbying the government for those programs, including the BC Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Canada Book Fund, that were so vital to establishing a vibrant publishing industry within the province and the country. Kathleen S. Bartels, director of the Vancouver Art Gallery, spoke about the longstanding partnership between Douglas & McIntyre and the VAG that produced over twenty beautiful publications—including exhibition catalogues for Fred Herzog, Brian Jungen, Takao Tanabe, and other artists from BC—that together represent only a fraction of Douglas & McIntyre’s impressive list of art books. Ian Gill, principal at Cause+Effect and author of All That We Say Is Ours (“a runaway worst-seller,” Gill joked), likened Scott McIntyre’s commitment to quality and integrity to the core values of The New York Times. Gill also noted that Scott would not be where he is without the undying support of Corky McIntyre and that the two of them have made huge contributions to our collective understanding of the history, art, and contemporary culture of Canada’s aboriginal people.

“My heart is full,” Scott McIntyre responded at the end of the evening. He admitted that the last year has been difficult but that he’s buoyed by the fact that New Society Publishers; Greystone, now under Heritage Group; and Douglas & McIntyre, now under Harbour Publishing, are forging ahead and that Figure 1 Publishing has arisen with the commitment to continue some of D&M’s partnerships with galleries and museums, produce beautiful books, and challenge the old publishing model. Scott said that although authors were a huge part of D&M’s cultural legacy, what made everything happen was the people. Although I was part of D&M for only six of its forty-two-year history, I hope, Scott, that you consider me one of those people. If so, I’m honoured—although I know that what I gained during my time at D&M far exceeds what I could have contributed.

The evening concluded when the representatives from the Squamish Nation asked Scott to share the four blankets on which he stood. His chosen recipients were Corky McIntyre, Robert Bringhurst, Michael Audain, and Karen Love.

Thanks to Chris Labonté, Karen Love, and Andy Sylvester for coordinating the event. I’m so grateful to have been a part of it.

I was going to make this week’s post a self-indulgent look back at the past year on my bloggiversary (as the kids call it), but given the sad news that D&M Publishers has filed for creditor protection, I wanted to say a few words about the company—and the people—that made my years in book publishing so rewarding.

I started at D&M during my Master of Publishing degree as a lowly intern (though pretty much everyone there did their best not to make me feel lowly at all), doing all manner of random tasks, from sending out review copies and archiving editorial material to staffing the front desk while the receptionist was away. Getting to spend time in several departments gave me a solid appreciation for the effort everyone was making. It really was, as Brenda Feist, sales and marketing assistant at the time, said, “amazing to see how many people it takes to make a book happen.”

My main tasks, though, were editorial—proofing inputting, proofreading books and marketing materials, and a bit of indexing. I learned from the best: Nancy Flight and Lucy Kenward patiently showed me the ropes, insisting on the highest standards and gently but firmly nudging me to improve myself. From Managing Editor Susan Rana I learned the best practices in book production as I watched her shepherd project after project through multiple hands and to tight deadlines. The company’s art department was also an inspiration: headed by Peter Cocking, D&M’s team of designers produced gorgeous books that routinely swept the Alcuin Awards.

During my internship, I embarked on a project to produce an informational handbook for authors to guide them through the editorial process, explaining the steps and the people involved in transforming a manuscript into a finished book. Little did I know that working on the handbook would sow the seeds of my interest in editorial efficiencies and systems. Later I would carve a niche role within the company of improving documentation and communication with authors and freelancers and developing quality-control methods to continue the company’s tradition of high editorial standards.

D&M offered me a contract to stay on once my internship was over, and I gladly accepted. There I was exposed to brilliant, inspiring authors and to books on a wide-ranging array of topics, from Aboriginal art to Vancouver architecture, from mouth-watering cookbooks to eye-opening biographies of influential Canadians, from history to current affairs and public policy, from environment to sport. I wish I’d retained more of what I read over those years.

To Scott McIntyre, thank you for all you have done. Thank you for trusting me with some of your best authors, thank you for recommending me to your friends and colleagues once I decided to strike out on my own, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to learn and develop alongside some of the best editors in the country. I can only imagine how heartbreaking this development must be—perhaps it feels like the loss of a child or the loss of a legacy. But please know that your fervent passion for and enormous contributions to Canadian culture endure—in the fine books that you’ve published, in the authors you’ve fostered and encouraged, in the people who’ve been able to learn from you by working for you.

What I value most from my time at D&M are the relationships I’ve forged with some of the smartest, funniest, hardest-working people I’ve ever met. To my good friends at D&M—who are too many to name here—please stay in touch. Now that I can no longer come into the office for the occasional visit, I’ll try to do my part and be better at reaching out in other ways.

Sorry; I guess this post did end up being self-indulgent after all. I didn’t think I would be as emotional about this turn of events as I am. I feel deeply for all of D&M’s employees and authors, and I’m here to offer my help wherever and whenever it’s needed.

Look out—the market’s about to be flooded by some amazingly talented people.