I
met Emma at the University of Birmingham when she was holding a guest lecture
for one of my creative writing modules this spring. I’d come to Birmingham for
a year abroad, away from my main literary studies in Germany, hoping to develop
as a writer and maybe gain some in sight into the publishing world I knew I
wanted to be part of one day. One hour into Emma’s lecture, I knew I’d gotten
it all wrong: I wasn’t looking for a titan publisher in the bustling hubs of
London, where you’re more likely lose yourself than find your way in. What I
needed was a small press like Emma’s, warm and welcoming, tucked in the calm
streets at the Jewellery Quarter, and brimming with originality and
innovativeness that excited my inner creative.
A
few months later I was interning at the Emma Press every Tuesday for a month.
Writing it out, it sounds like an awfully short time, and it did indeed feel
short, almost over before it’d really begun. While I was still realising I was
finally at the heart of a publishing house, a dream come true, two weeks
already flew by in a heartbeat. But I was quick to catch my footing. In spite
of all the new environment I found comfort and confidence in speaking the same
language I’d been immersed in as a writer on the other side of publication.
I
helped compile anthologies, read new submissions and wrote reader’s reports. I
helped out with publicity plans for different titles, interviewed authors and
was lucky even to have met one of them, the wonderful and inspiring Rūta Briede, Latvian artist and author of Queen of Seagulls,
at one of her crafting workshops where we painted puplaks, little painted
sea-wood dolls she invented herself.
I
discovered what it means to sit on the receiving end of submissions and deal
with the weight of recommendation (or not) in my reports. I learned how press
releases are written, how they change from title to title, and then wrote one
myself for In Transit. I discovered a new joy in writing
blurbs, how to navigate through Indonesian texts still in translation to
capture the sense of the fledgling book. I glimpsed into the hard work and long
hours of research that go into when looking for homes for new publications, or
even when scouring for children’s books waiting to be brought to British
readers across Europe.
But
most of all, I was delighted in finding that we were all working towards a
common goal. Being a writer who strives to write for a better, more hopeful
world, it was encouraging and welcoming to see I wasn’t alone in feeling this
way. At the Emma Press, everyone works to push the boundaries, discover new
voices and always eager to explore new ideas, from the ideation of themed
anthologies to the selection of children’s books to be translated. It was
amazing and inspiring to see so many stories across Europe and Asia being in the
works, and hopefully there will be more to come in the future.
The
Emma Press and its team taught me to value and cherish creativity and fun in publishing in a way I’d have
never imagined and more, to nurture the small dreams however far-reaching. I’ll
be missing helping out and see incredible works become reality, and hope one
day to experience the heartwarming magic of the Emma Press once again.
