A Pie Plate Pilgrimage
Chapter 3 - The Commissioning
Outside of the office, Luke and Melvin were grumbling about something. Soleil was sure they were angry with her for the minor victory she had scored. She looked over at them and motioned that she would go tell Lydia that Gerald wanted to see her.
“Oh, Soleil, hi,” Lydia said, instinctively standing up as her role model approached. “I didn’t think you’d be in today.”
“We had a few things to touch up before we left for the promotional tour,” began Soleil, “and this is all unofficial, of course, for now, but we’re in the process of negotiating for the next book.”
“Oh, all right,” Lydia said, expressing agreement, not enthusiasm. “So how are the talks going?”
Lydia had a feeling Soleil was going to ask her to sit on the development team again. She wanted to refuse because it had been so draining the first time. She also really wanted to say yes. Despite the hardship, it was the only role she had filled since she had started working there that had given her any sense of meaning and accomplishment.
“Things got a little tense in the meeting,” said Soleil, “but Gerald took me more seriously than I thought he would. Plus, I got a chance to get some things off my chest and tell Luke how I feel about him.”
Lydia could easily understand why Soleil would want to express her frustrations, but she was surprised that she had actually done it. “Don’t you think that will make things awkward on the promotional tour?”
It was Westminster policy to send a company representative along with the author on these tours. Every talk show appearance and bookstore pitch had to include both people. They needed to sell the brand as much as they were selling any particular book.
“Frankly, I don’t care,” said Soleil. “I was already going to feel uncomfortable around him. At least now the feeling will be mutual.”
“You’re the one that has to sit on the plane with him,” Lydia said, shaking her head.
“I’ve been married for twelve years,” Soleil said, “I’ve learned how to handle awkward silences.”
Lydia knew why the joke was funny, but the reason she laughed was that a few years of singleness for her had made otherwise awkward silences seem commonplace.
“Oh wait,” said Lydia, suddenly remembering something and reaching into her desk. “My sister’s birthday is coming up, and I thought she might like an autographed copy of the book.”
“Absolutely.” Soleil took the book from her and picked up a marker from the desk. She quickly signed the book and gave it back to Lydia. “Well it looks like Luke and Melvin are done their little meeting, so I should get going. Nice talking to you again, and don’t worry, sometime someone will recognize the work you do around here.”
“Yeah, thanks,” said Lydia, but they both knew she didn’t believe it. “It was good to see you again too,” she said, giving Soleil a hug.
“Oh, and Gerry wants to see you.” As Luke approached, Soleil flashed him a playful grin. She waved one final farewell to Lydia and followed Luke out the door.
Lydia gathered together her day planner, a notepad and a good pen as she headed for the boardroom.
“You wanted to see me Mr. Simmons?” Lydia asked as she entered.
“Yes, come on in,” he said. “Close the door behind you and have a seat.” Lydia had met with Gerald many times before, but always as an assistant to Luke and always with the door left open. “Oh, and please just call me Gerald.” At these other meetings Luke would always relay things to Lydia as if she hadn’t heard them and he would always refer to Gerald as Mr. Simmons, as though only Luke was on a first name basis with him.
Gerald was holding a copy of Feminine-ism. “You must be very proud of this book’s success,” he began.
Lydia nodded, not sure if he was asking her or compelling her.
“I hear you put quite a bit of work into it,” he continued.
“I was just doing my job,” Lydia responded quickly, immediately disgusted with her clichéd response.
“Still, you’ve got to be excited to see those sales numbers climb.”
“Of course it’s great for the company,” she said carefully, “but the sales only serve to reinforce that ours is a good business model, which is something I already knew.” This was her way of saying that since she wasn’t benefitting from a royalty package, she couldn’t care less how many books were sold.
Gerald turned to a stack of what looked like spreadsheets. “How many sick days have you taken during your time with us?” Flipping through the pages it seemed as though he was asking a question he already knew the answer to.
“I don’t know. Three or four maybe.”
“You’ve worked here almost three years and you have taken two sick days.”
“I guess I have a good immune system,” Lydia suggested.
“And a good conscience,” Gerald added. “What about vacation time?”
“I only became eligible for full vacation time last year, but I didn’t take it all because we were so busy getting the book together.”
Other people on the development team had taken vacation time after the project was done. Since they couldn’t all take vacation together, the more senior staff were given first priority. Lydia, being at the bottom of the seniority list, was still waiting for her turn to come.
“I don’t know if this means you are extremely loyal to this company or if you simply have no social life,” Gerald chuckled.
Of the two options presented, Lydia wondered which one was the chicken and which was the egg.
“Why can’t it be both?” she asked with a smile, hoping this line of questioning wouldn’t go on too long.
“The reason, Lydia, is that one should be rewarded more than the other.”
“I think for all of us, successfully balancing work and social life is its own reward.”
“Well said,” Gerald nodded. “Now let me ask you another question. How would you label yourself religiously?”
Lydia was well aware that there were government regulations in place preventing employers from asking their employees this exact question. These nuances were lost on older businessmen like Gerald, but Lydia was quite sure that he had a good reason for asking.
“My grandparents took me to church when I was a kid,” she offered semi-reluctantly, “but I haven’t found any need for religion since then.”
“What would you think about us doing a book on the topic of Christianity?”
“Well, the way I see the market,” she began, thinking that finally someone was asking for her book industry analysis, “there are two kinds of Christian books that do well. The first are distributed by Christian publishers, written by Christian authors, filled with Christian scripture references and more or less adhere to a strict sense of proper orthodoxy. If any of those components are missing, certain Christians won’t trust those books and then won’t buy them. The second kind is highly intellectual and/or highly critical of Christianity and is written with an edge.” Lydia was trying to tell by Gerald’s actions whether he was agreeing with her or not, but he only nodded with very little expression.
She continued, “So if we were to develop a book like that, I personally think it would be wise for us to be in the second group. Maybe we could do a self-help book for people who have left the church. Something like After the Church: Finding Meaning When They Said I Wouldn’t.” Gerald’s facial expression still hadn’t changed. “I’m just thinking off the top of my head here,” Lydia added.
Gerald reached into his briefcase and pulled out a few books. He held up one for Lydia to see. “Have you seen this book before?”
“Yes, definitely group one.”
“Did you know it has sold fifty million copies? Or that it has been translated into 6 different languages, with a few more on the way?”
“I knew it was popular but …“
“Fifty million copies, and look at the author: chubby, balding …”
“… an outdated sense of style.” Lydia didn?
??t normally feel free to be this critical, but she wanted to be part of the conversation.
“And how about this guy?” asked Gerald, holding up another book, this one with the author’s face on the cover. “He is an icon of the Christian book market. You see his face everywhere, but look at him. What comes to mind?”
“I feel like he’s going to sell me a used car.”
“Or worse,” said Gerald, “and I’ve read them. They’re just formulaic feel-good, self-help books. So all we need to do is find a writer with mostly Christian values, a willingness to work in our system, and a face people can trust.”
This time it was Lydia nodding her head without any discernible expression on her face. She could only think about the fake slogans she had sarcastically given her company, like “There’s a reason appearance is in the dictionary before substance” and “Go ahead, judge a book by its cover, our marketing plan depends on it.”
“Do you think we could do it?”
“Looking around the office, I’m not sure we’re the best people to do a book on Christianity.” She was surprised at her boldness, but if her scepticism was welcomed before, it should be welcomed now.
“You’re a young woman. Looking around this office, do we look like the best people to publish a best-selling feminist self-help book?”
It was a question she had asked herself many times before. “You’ve got a point there.”
“I’m glad you agree, because I’m putting you in charge.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Mr. Simmons,” Lydia said slowly. “I mean, Gerald.”
“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he said, unfettered by her concerns. “In that time, I want you to interview some potential authors and pick a few people for the development team. You’ve been here long enough to know the process. This folder has everything you need, and I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
“I’m going to be pretty busy already, arranging TV and radio appearances for the promotional tour and coordinating their transportation and accommodations.” It was the best excuse she could think of. “I don’t know if I’ll have time.”
“Luke’s got you doing all that?” said Gerald, suddenly distracted from the book project. “He can book his own hotels and rental cars.”
“… and tee times,” added Lydia, not realizing she was hurting her own cause.
“I’ll take care of Luke,” said Gerald reassuringly. “He can handle all those details himself, and you’ll have time to work on starting this book.”
“Gerald, I really don’t think that the Christian reader will trust a religious book from a thoroughly secular publisher.” ‘Secular’ was the nicest word she could think of to express what she was thinking.
“We’ll let marketing take care of that,” Gerald replied simply.
“Also from what I know about Jesus, I think the idea of commercializing an airy-fairy self-help book might be hypocritical.”
“Lydia, this is your book now. You make it work for your conscience. It seemed to work out all right for the car salesman here.” Gerald said, pointing toward one of the books he had talked about earlier. His body language made it clear that there was no convincing him.
In a small way Lydia was excited by the prospect of working on her own book, but she still had a number of misgivings. She didn’t even know where to start.