A Eureka Moment

Apologies for the break. In case you were wondering something has come up - we're starting a publishing company called Oxygen Books, to publish books about all kinds of journeys.

The Eureka idea came - how corny is this - on the steps of the Acropolis. One minute you're searching for Socrates' suicide spot and the next (well, a bit later) you're in an IPG meeting and facing the joys and horrors of modern publishing.

Seriously, the idea had been mulling for a while and more about it anon. But already we've done our first customer care survey and it isn't looking bad:

1. Nielsen - ISBN - so quick, efficient and pleasant
2. IPG - similarly
3. Web design team - and again ...
4. All our publishing friends - brilliant advice and thanks
5. Art directors who wear those funny glasses - please get back to us with the name of your cover designers ...

But we love you all, honest.

Things You Only Do on Holiday No. 23

Things You Only Do on Holiday No 23:

Deciding to read Proust

cf Moby Dick, Ulysses, the Upanishads. Watch it sit gloatingly on your hotel bedside table as you guiltily read an old Ken Follett the previous occupant left behind.

Although I did read (sorry, not even re-read) The Odyssey on holiday. Visting Mycenae was being in a place where myth, history and natural beauty are totally overwhelming and you reel about wondering if you're really there. And then you're also reading about it in The Odyssey. We even visit Clytemnestra's Tomb: almost ice-cold on a blistering day.

I'd bought the new Vintage edition because it was cheaper (£5.99) than the Penguin Classics: you don't mind the sun-oil stains and dog-eared pages at that price. A nice sunny holiday cover too. Well done Random House.

Things You Only Do on Holiday 147:

Travel for six hours in a stifling coach to stand in an ancient ampitheatre

And sing Baa, Baa Black Sheep

This happened. It wasn't us, honest.

360 Degree Appraisal

Interested in getting an excellent lowdown on what's happening in new fiction? I've found my best bet is the ground floor at Hatchards, Piccadilly. Everything's there, all genres, beautifully arranged around a central table. You just do a 360 degree walk around and in minutes you've got a good overview and have probably brought several books. I've got a piece coming out in the Guardian soon on the new office novel inspired by spotting on display five novels set in offices. I remember being told once that the Queen Mother was a customer and would discreetly look around in case she was there for the new Dick Francis but, alas, now we will never know.

Under the Acropolis

It’s a Sunday morning in Athens and we discover the Athens (or is Thessalonika? we’re never sure which as everybody's bags say the latter) book fair. It’s a long line of covered stalls at the foot of the Acropolis in front of the Theatre of Herrod Atticus. Admittedly the location helps, and the fact that there don’t seem to be that many bookshops in Athens – we counted four although weren’t really looking and weren’t sure about libraries - but it’s certainly popular. You can see the book fair to the left of the picture.

It’s probably a bit like the Paris bouquinistes, who sell books beside the Seine, or the sellers underneath London’s Waterloo Bridge, except that the books here are new and all the major and minor Greek publishers seem to be represented. At least we assume they must be big publishers if they’re publishing Mo Hayder and Karin Slaughter in Greek. Everything from doctor nurse romances and pink glittery fairy books to Gramsci (quelle nostalgie) and Nietzche are here, together with a rather dubious anti-Turkish publisher stall manned by a fierce-looking man.

It just made you feel, well, civilised and we definitely would have done the impulse purchases except we don’t do Greek (admittedly being in such a stupendous place and on holiday helped but it wasn’t just that). It wasn’t slightly desperate the way small publisher fairs can be, but neither was it intimidating and slick like the London Book Fair and there was no threat of being invited to brunch with June Whitfield to celebrate her new book. It also gave you a much bigger selection than at your typical book festival with no threat of muddy fields.

It made you wonder why we don’t have anything like this in Britain. Publishers are always trying to find out who their customers are – and what a wonderful way to get direct feedback and sell some books into the bargain with a great time to be had by all. I’m sure there are good reasons why this can’t be done and I’m just in the throes of post-holiday euphoria but, hey, I’ll be back to metropolitan gloomy soon.

By the way, never ask an Athenian, lovely people as they are, the way anywhere. But that’s another story ....