Parisian Phoenix Publishing

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: E.H. Jacobs’ debut political drama will be released in September, in time for the 2024 Presidential Election and the third anniversary of Parisian Phoenix Publishing. I have invited him to share his thoughts on the process and here is the first installment.

By E.H. Jacobs

As I begin this post, I’m struck by two paradoxes.

1. Everything these days seems to be a journey, so much so that it has become a cliche, a cliche I don’t like, but one that I find apt for my sentiments here. So, even cliches have their place.
2. For a writer, there is no end to the journey. There is no end to writing, there are no finished products (“a work of art is never finished, only abandoned,” which has been attributed, in some form or other, to E.M. Forster, Leonardo DaVinci and Paul Valery). There are only pauses for submissions and then, perhaps, regret. 

So, the “end” to which I am referring, this “pause” in my pursuits, refers to the upcoming publication of my first novel this fall by Parisian Phoenix.

Just writing that last sentence fills me with feelings so cliched that, as wondrous as they are, would be embarrassing to describe. Although I have been writing for decades and have published two non-fiction books and several short stories, poems and memoir pieces, I have put my heart, soul and much of the vanishing time I have left on this earth into two-and-a-half novels which have been sitting in my computer, unpublished, read and loved by myself, friends and family, but not out in the world.

Several people have asked: “Why don’t you just self-publish?”

But, as much as I valued my own work, I wanted a real publisher to appreciate it with its imprimatur, with the message: “Yes, this is worthwhile.”

For me as a writer, it is a thrill, a rush, a jolt of ecstasy to have found a publisher who was immediately taken by my work, who said something like: “This is the kind of writing I love,” which made all the frustration and uncertainty along this path worth it. Although – and here’s another paradox for you all – to write and to value writing, to value one’s creativity and its ensuing creations, the path must be worth it regardless of whether it ends in publication. 

But there is no denying that there is a sweetness in publication that, aside from the writing, is something to cherish in itself.

And that sweetness is heightened by the fact that this publisher did not accept my manuscript saying: “I could sell this,” or, “I could make money on this,” but just that she loved the writing and the story.

I do hope the book is successful commercially for my publisher, that my publisher profits both financially and in reputation from this work, for what this has given me has been invaluable.