4. Casey
CASEY
“I think that sets us up nicely for our spring season,” Anastasios says from his end of the conference table.
He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, then shakes his head as if trying to release some pent-up stress.
“Meri, are you good to work up some publicity for our first round of preorders?”
“Yes, sir,” Meri responds, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’ll have the final plans on your desk by close of business Tuesday.”
“Excellent.” Anastasios eyes Ryan and me. “The Writers and Agents Conference is in two weeks. Casey, you’re still taking Ryan’s place, correct?”
I nod. “Yes. I’ve prepared notes for the editorial panels I’ll be sitting on, and I’ve made plans to network with a couple of new agents who are shopping around some interesting projects.”
“Very good. The rules for expenses have changed, so make sure you see Craig before you leave. I’ve asked him to include a per diem for the three authors we also have attending. Are you okay setting up lunches or dinners for them as well?”
“Yes, sir. That shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
Anastasios regards me for another moment, his blue eyes shrewd and narrowed on me. But it’s only a moment, and then he lowers his gaze to his laptop. “Good. Unless anyone has any other concerns, that’ll be all.”
Ryan glances over at me and raises his eyebrows in silent question. I shrug. I have no idea what that was about, and I’m not planning to stick around and find out. But as soon as I gather my notebook and laptop in my arms, ready to follow everyone out the door, Anastasios clears his throat.
“Casey. A moment, please?”
Trying not to sigh audibly, I put my things back down on the table. Ryan claps me on the shoulder on his way out, and as soon as the last person has left the conference room, Anastasios waves his hand, indicating I should sit.
So this is going to take a while, then.
“No need to be nervous,” he assures me as I lower myself into the chair. “An interesting opportunity has presented itself, and I think you might be just the man for it.”
“Oh?” I tick an eyebrow up just slightly, keeping the rest of my features carefully neutral. I’ve done enough negotiations that the poker face comes naturally, and while I don’t know what any of this is about, it feels like a good time not to give anything away.
Anastasios leans forward on his elbows, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Your hard work here has not gone unnoticed,” he says. “You have taken on more titles this year than any other senior editor, and each one has done better than projected.”
“Thank you, sir.” Praise from Anastasios is hard-earned. Not in a bad way, just in the way that when he says something positive, it feels even better because you know he means it. It lights something up inside of me, and I sit a little straighter.
“Have you heard of Starlight Press?”
I rack my brain for a moment, but I’m drawing a blank. Slowly, I shake my head. “No. Should I have?”
He huffs a small laugh. “No, not necessarily. They’re a very small, digital-forward press. They don’t currently have offices anywhere—most of their staff works remotely. But they’ve had some trouble in recent years.”
“What’s their focus?”
“Young adult. Some middle grade, but mostly upper YA.”
I hum, still unsure of where this is going and unwilling to give too much curiosity away. “YA is a great market right now.”
“It is,” Anastasios agrees. “Which is probably why JMP has acquired them as their new young adult imprint. Because of our success in recent years, they’d like us to merge with them.
We have extra office space and a host of junior editors who are hungry for more senior positions.
I think many of them would do well making the switch from literary fiction to young adult. ”
A few puzzle pieces start sliding together. He’s likely going to ask me to be one of those editors to make the switch, and I quickly start looking for reasons not to do it. I like literary fiction, and a lateral move to a new genre isn’t exactly something I want to invest time in at the moment.
“The plan is that Starlight would keep as many of their current editors as want to stay, but we’d fill the gaps with a few of ours and add our distribution to the mix to get physical copies into bookstores,” he continues.
“Makes sense,” I say. “Not a ton of young people are using e-readers.”
Anastasios nods approvingly, and I get the feeling I just passed some unspoken test. “JMP is happy to set up a hybrid work situation, but they feel that the office space along with the association with us would help Starlight improve their image and attract a higher caliber of author.”
“That’s probably true.”
Anastasios brings his pointer finger to his mouth and regards me again. “They will need a new editorial director. Theirs is retiring as soon as the merger is complete.”
Well, that’s interesting. “Really,” I state more than ask, still careful not to show too much interest. As much as I might want this conversation to be leading toward something new for me, as a Black man in this industry that has historically been not very diverse, I don’t want to get my hopes up.
“Mm-hmm. JMP’s CEO, Mark, asked if I had anyone who would be a good fit for the job. I told him I did, but I’d have to talk to you about it first.”
That has my heart skipping a beat. “Me?”
“Like I said, you have an eye for successful titles. You work closely with your authors but also have a hand in marketing and design—more so than any other senior editor here. You’d have the ability to oversee a full team from editing through production and continue to work on a lead title or two each season if you choose.
And it would come with a considerable raise. ”
I blink a few times, trying to process this information.
Never in my wildest dreams have I ever thought I could head up my own press.
It’s not that I don’t want to. I just never thought I’d have the opportunity.
While the publishing world is different than it was, starting a press from the ground up would require more time and effort than I have, and taking on a more established press would likely mean moving away from Chicago, something I wouldn’t be willing to do.
But if my understanding is correct, this is an absolute dream scenario. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I’d be a fool to pass up. Not to mention the money would be a huge help right now.
I’m not usually one to be at a loss for words, but I’m not sure what to say. This is an incredible offer.
Anastasios must interpret my silence as uncertainty, because he says, “Of course, you can take some time to think about it.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around it, is all.”
He nods with understanding. “This did come out of nowhere.” Smiling as if at his own private joke, he adds, “It’s always unexpected when things move quickly in publishing.”
A shocked laugh escapes me. Anastasios Martis is not one to joke around. “I’m honored that you thought of me for this position, sir. I accept.”
“Wonderful.” He smiles. “I’ll verify with Mark, but I would assume they will want you to at least start acquainting yourself with the team at Starlight right away. I’m happy to help you approach junior editors here who might want to make the move with you.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get.”
He nods once, his smile fading slightly. “If I may offer some advice, then? As someone who was in this position not too long ago.”
“Of course.”
Pressing his lips together and narrowing his eyes again, he takes in a sharp breath through his nose.
“Starlight is still in a tenuous position. Money from the acquisition will help, and I’m sure Mark will give you a budget for new writers to start.
But if you don’t have a breakout title rather quickly, it’ll be difficult to get your name out there as a serious player in the industry. ”
“No pressure,” I mutter.
Anastasios regards me softly, almost in a fatherly way.
“If anyone can handle it, you can. But I would highly suggest keeping your eyes out for a really stellar writer at this conference. Someone untested and with a lot of talent. And then take the manuscript on yourself rather than passing it to your team. You can mold a manuscript from someone like that into exactly what you need to turn the press around rather quickly.”
“Yes, sir. I will do that. Thank you.”
He nods again in a clear signal of dismissal. I rise from my seat.
“I won’t pretend I’ve done everything perfectly in this position,” he says as I gather my things. “But I have learned a thing or two along the way. I’m here for as much or as little help as you might need.”
I pause. “Thank you.”
“Of course. If it’s all right with you, we’ll make the announcement soon, before you leave for Writers and Agents. That way, you’ll have some extra clout going into the conference.”
Oh, wow. This really is going to move fast. “Can you give me a day or two? I’d like a few people to hear it from me, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine.”
I turn to make my way out of the conference room, excitement bubbling within me so quickly I might burst. I want to make it back to my office to make a few phone calls and talk to Ryan as soon as I can.
“And Casey?” Anastasios says. When I face him again, his expression breaks into a true grin, his icy-blue eyes lighting up. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I can’t help but return the smile.
“It’s not Sunday,” my brother says as he sits at a table in the restaurant where he works. “Is everything okay?”
For our whole lives, my brother has thrived on routine. Anything out of the ordinary would risk sending him into a full-blown tantrum when we were younger. Now, it manifests as something closer to anxiety. I can see it as he rocks back and forth slightly in his seat.
“Everything’s fine, Robert. Great, even. I have some good news.” I check my watch. “I wanted to tell you and Dad together.”