‘I take great pleasure in introducing…’

Those men and women, young and old, who are on the cusp of publishing a book (if there is anyone who isn’t, please let me know), are frantically scouring the countryside looking for someone of repute to write an Introduction or Foreword, as it is more properly called. Present company included. The exception to this rule is limited to those authors who have already achieved fame and fortune and are therefore in no need to have other famous personages writing paeans of praise in the form of an Introduction to their books. Take the sadly deceased and greatly loved author Sue Townsend. I could sit curled up with one of her many Adrian Mole ramblings all day long, laughing my guts out. When she published her first book, The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, aged 13 ¾, she got someone called David Walliams to write an effusive Introduction. Now I have no idea who this David Walliams is or was, but clearly, he must have been well known in the United Kingdom and his words carried enough weight to arouse curiosity among the lay readers. By the way, that was not a typographical error. That is how he unusually spells his name; Walliams. It takes all sorts. Once Secret Diary hit the top of the best seller charts, Townsend had no requirement for someone to introduce her in her subsequent best sellers. Au contraire, aspiring writers of the humour genre would have been running after Townsend imploring her to pen an Introduction to their tomes. I know I would have, had she not departed for the great beyond.

Now here’s the damnedest and most uncanny thing. No sooner had I finished writing that the singularly spelt Walliams was a closed book to me, this morning’s news is all about this British comic and best-selling writer of children’s stories, now accused of being a sexual predator. Tut, tut. That has placed him firmly in the headlines for all the wrong reasons. Just when we were getting over the Russell Brand imbroglio. Walliams has naturally denied the whole thing as hogwash, which is par for the course but poor Sue Townsend must be turning in her grave. Had she but known. Had she been dealing with a common or garden Williams things might have been different, but a Walliams should have set the alarm bells clanging.

Without mentioning names, lest they be badgered by other wannabe writers such as yours truly, let me just say I have been fortunate enough to persuade a couple of very distinguished gentlemen to say some nice things at the start of my books, consisting solely of risible columns that I have been writing for several years. I will have to believe they willingly agreed to do so because they were convinced that there is something to write home about, in a manner of speaking, in ‘them thar’ volumes. You must think me rather silly being cagey about the names of these sterling men who saw fit to introduce my books to the world. World might be overstating it. Let’s just settle for some parts of urban India. After all, if you just go out and order my books from Amazon or other online portals, truth will out and you will know exactly who I am needlessly trying to shield. You see what I just did there? Aroused your innate curiosity to go out and buy a book or two of my offerings to learn who these fine men were who introduced my books. Clever, clever! Ah well, I guess chaps in my position have to resort to any trope to try and keep body and soul together. We can’t all be Sonia Gandhi whose autobiography Belonging: A Journey of Love, garnered enough publicity (read controversy) to ensure the book was flying off the shelves like the proverbial hot cakes, even before the printing ink had  dried on the pages.

Someone recently buttonholed me on the street and asked me how I managed to write a column of more than 1000 words week on week. ‘Sheer bloody-mindedness,’ I replied and walked on. I could have added that there are columnists who churn out more than 1500 words a day without batting an eyelid, but let me get back on track. If getting hold of a person of some stature to write a Foreword for your book is hard work, getting one of the newspapers or online portals to review the book is close to being a Herculean task. I approached a newspaper recently and tried to interest their Features Editor to review my book. ‘It is a diverting collection of satirical and humorous pieces covering a wide variety of subjects that will interest people of all ages and persuasions. If you love the English language, I am your man.’ I know that sales pitch was a bit of a hard sell, but subtlety and soft sell usually do not work. If you go in for the self-effacing, half-apologetic understatement, you might as well be dead in the water. In my case, however, hard sell did not work either. This chap from the newspaper, probably a junior sub, got quite uppity with me. ‘Look Sir, I have 27 books on my table queuing up to be reviewed, and I have to go and watch 4 plays, 3 new movies and 2 classical music concerts and review all of them over the next three weeks. We are woefully short-staffed. You will have to endure a very long wait, that is assuming your book of blogs is worth my trouble at all.’ I think he got up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, but he could have exercised more tact.

Mind you, not all of them are that shirty. Another editorial type, this time a young lady, well spoken, had this to say to me. ‘Thank you so much for sending me your book. I had great fun reading it. I will share it with some of my friends. You should write a full-length novel, you know. Why don’t you give it a shot? Now that is something we could really get our teeth into. This bits and pieces collection of columns, great read though it is, will not be of much interest to our readers. Come back with a novel with plenty of snappy one-liners and we could be in business.’ She was really very nice, unlike that previous curmudgeon, but it was still a brush off while putting me off scent with mild flattery. Speaking for myself, I am one with Somerset Maugham who said, ‘There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, nobody knows what they are.’

That said, I must doff my metaphorical hat to those handful of editors who did me proud by getting professional reviewers to pen a few paragraphs about my books. These have been few and far between but I am immensely grateful to them a) for taking the trouble to read the book and b) for sitting down and writing a thoughtful review. Now here’s the ironic part. I myself have been approached by several writers to review their books in some medium or the other. How could I possibly refuse?  I know the feeling. If you are approached by someone you know well, then you hope the book is genuinely worth the effort. Refusing to do so could invite the cold shoulder. Fortunately, I have been able to write and get published more than a dozen reviews for other people though reviewing books is not really my bag. However, there is a bit of noblesse oblige involved here. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours, about sums it up. I thought Nobel Laureate John Steinbeck put it quite succinctly when he said, ‘Unless a reviewer has the courage to give you unqualified praise, I say ignore the bastard.’