We didn’t know the first thing about the publishing industry. But I thought books could use a little more design. Jonathan brought important things to the table like spelling and grammar, so it ended up being a good match. I sold my car, a ’68 Volvo, to fund the start up. And though I miss it, I have to say: it has been worth it.
I was bartending at the time, earning more money than I really deserved. The bar was across the street from the harbor. Apart from the local crowd, the bar catered to the out-of-town yuppies on their way to or from sport-fishing trips, and the uber-wealthy who’d get tanked on their sailboats in the morning and stop by for a drink after coming ashore, still rocking on their sea-legs. Rich old men don’t like to get cut off by the snotty-nosed bartender.
There is much more to our publishing history that I’d like one day to tell, but because one circle that revealed itself in 1993 is moving into another rotation, it seems a good idea to make a record. Doing so just might shed light on what Greg Michalson and I—and our remarkable marketing and sales team—do at Unbridled Books. We’ve all been together for a long time.
One always runs the risk of reverting to platitudes when one talks about one’s publishing vision, and why should I be any different? After all, I am a little greener than most in the business and therefore even more prone to superlatives than my seasoned colleagues. The old saying goes, “You are what you eat.” For publishers, it should be, “You are what you publish.” If so, I’d prefer to jump right into the kitchen and talk about the books.