A Thinking Man

Strange things do happen. There was a white envelope. I recognised the logo. It belonged to one of my publishers that I hadn’t heard from in at least 10 years. I was expecting the standard letter. “Dear Mr Xyzabc, we regret to inform you that despite monumental efforts by our promotions staff, the sales of your book Some Amazing Title have dropped off in recent months and we will not be re-publishing it. You may purchase extra copies from the remainders at a discount …”

But it wasn’t that. It was about a book that I had published in 1992, which diligent research has shown is still available from Amazon at £0.49 (a bargain, if ever there was one), but the letter contained the momentous news that despite its age, my publishers had persuaded a Korean publisher to buy it and that it would soon be hitting the streets in Seoul. A cheque for £170 in advance royalties would follow (eat your heart out J.K.Rowling). The thought of Korean devotees paying to read my English was slightly amusing, and the cheque would be very welcome.

As odd as this may seem, it isn’t the first time that something odd and amusing like this has happened. My first book published in 1982 - an academic tome with an obscure title as long as a Henry James sentence and a worthiness as heavy as very thick lead - also hit the Asian market. Although when published I dreamed of it being distributed in the States and all the financial rewards that that would entail, it wasn’t, and it slipped into obscurity on library bookshelves. However, the one bright (and amusing outcome) was that a distributor in Japan picked it up and ordered 400 copies. The thought of Japanese trying to pronounce my text seemed surreal - as would be my attempted pronunciations of their Japanese works.

However, this morning’s letter, which normally would have produced unmitigated joy, also brought with it a dilemma. I am pleased to say it was only temporary. The dilemma was this. The book in question was a Christian volume that I wrote when I was a practising evangelical. As the church in Korea is growing at a phenomenal rate and has some of the largest congregations in the world, the book would meet part of the demand in that country for Christian literature. (Yes, I know they ought to write their own and I am sure that they do and will do so more, but at the moment they are importing as well.) It would be used to ‘build up the flock’. As I am now a humanist and atheist I had a few, slight twinges about making money out of something that I no longer believe in. My work will be used to promote something I actually believe to be unhelpful to people as it is one way of keeping them from facing ultimate reality.

I couldn’t withdraw the book. The legal contract I had signed in 1991 meant that I had handed over rights to my publisher to exploit the material in the best ways they could (and they had done their job well - literally surprisingly well). A train of events had been set in motion years ago, and although I didn’t like the turn they were taking, I felt powerless to stop them. I considered my options:

• I could choose not cash the cheque. However, they are a business with paid people in suits to reconcile bank statements. I would eventually be found out and they would keep writing to me.
• I could give the money away. I thought the National Secular Society might be an appropriate cause.

In the end I reasoned myself into acceptance. First, a labourer is worthy of his or her hire. I had spent two years writing the book and had received very little in the way of royalties to date (under four figures). I had effectively been employed by the publisher (my 10 per cent) to help them make money (their 30 per cent). This money was simply a just reward for labour I had undertaken in good faith at the time.

Secondly, I decided to invest it in a humanist project. Today is my birthday - yes I know, I was the strangest Valentine present my mother ever got. At the weekend I will be celebrating with four male friends. One will continue to pray for my reconversion on a daily basis, and one will continue to try to get me drunk every time we meet. They are people who have laughed and cried with me during some very great highs and some very black lows. I value their friendship and enjoy their humanity. The church in Korea will be unwittingly paying for that human ‘fellowship’ and celebration. Personally I think that is rather ‘neat’.

Tags: atheist, birthday, book, celebration, Christian, church, evangelical, humanist, Japan, Korean, publisher, Seoul, Valentine