Recently, Khushwant Singh spoke at a function organised by a publishing house. He saidthat publishers should not exploit writers. They should pay them a royalty of at least 12per cent.
I was shocked. His remarks were ignorant and insensitive enough to incense any realwriter. I still wonder how he summoned the temerity to speak on a subject he knew nothingabout. How is he qualified to speak about writers? He is a mere entertainer who panders tothe tastes of the cheap masses. He was the forerunner of other entertainers óSalmanRushdie, Vikram Seth, Arundhati Roy, etc. They are all millionaires. They have millions ofavid readers who devour their books.
They aren't real writers.
Real writers are never understood by their contemporaries. They write for posterity.How can Khushwant understand their problems? As a real writer and a veteran of severalbooks, I need to educate him about the real problems which face real writers. First, realwriters have little contact with publishers. After their manuscripts are consistentlyrejected by the publishers, real writers, impatient to serve posterity, start publishingtheir own work.
However, rare contact with a publisher cannot be ruled out. I recall one recklesspublisher who consented to publish in hard cover my original paperback which I myself hadpublished.
It is ridiculous to speak of 12 or 10 per cent royalty. In order to ensure athree-digit sale of my book I had to purchase all the copies myself. I purchased thecopies to present them to friends who I thought deserved the wisdom reserved forposterity. However, buying the book was not enough.
Presenting it free to readers was not enough. I had actually to pay my friends to readthe book. I can recall innumerable occasions on which I had to ply a friend with drinksand food while he went through my words of wisdom.
This wasn't as easy as it sounds. A reader has the irritating tendency to let hisattention wander while digesting words of wisdom. Throughout each exercise, I had to sitalongside the reader and stare at him with the unblinking gaze of a boa constrictor tomake absolutely sure that he did read the book.
Yes. Real writers sure do have a tough time. But what the heck! We owe it to posterity,don't we?
Heed me, please heed me,
Doesn't anybody need me?
Read me, please read me,
Won't somebody feed me?
