At a time when the sky is darkening every day with bad news, it grew even darker today with the news of Carolyn Reidy's sudden death.
She was publisher at Simon and Schuster, and its President. "She began her career at Random House in 1974, in the subsidiary rights
department. She sat outside the office of Toni Morrison, who was an
editor in the trade book division at the time and who, by Ms. Reidy’s
account, proved to be an inspiration," says the New York Times.
"She also was never afraid to offer a controversial glimpse into her thinking. At Frankfurt, when asked about Brexit, she made a point of asserting that the advantage the UK market historically has had with its exclusive rights in the European market would be over. Already raised eyebrows shot up even further when she added, 'I still don’t understand why the British think they have India,'" Publishing Perspectives wrote.
Among authors she published in a company that had 17 imprints were Frank McCourt, Stephen King, Hillary Clinton, Bruce Springsteen. And yet, S&S CFO Dennis Eulau notes: "She was equally attentive, on a personal level, to our authors, to whom she sent handwritten notes when they received awards, made the bestseller list, or simply to let them know when she finished reading their books."
This is true. Each time S&S published one of my books, including the very first, she wrote to me after reading it, and her comments showed she read with depth and intelligence and empathy. In 2011, when the Free Press (then a division of S&S) and its wonderful Martha Levin signed on An Atlas of Impossible Longing, by and by I had an email from Carolyn. I did not know who she was at that time and the email came with no pompous designation or job title. It was a while before my inquiries led to an answer about the writer of the email. "I was so captivated that I wanted to write and thank you for giving us a work of such depth and beauty," she wrote. "I was transported to another time and place, felt the oppressive heat and rising waters -- both of nature and of history as time passed."
By the time All the Lives We Never Lived was published, I was not surprised by her detailed and deeply felt reading of it, which followed in due course.
When we met, I had the sense of someone formidable yet democratic and unstuffy. It feels strange and sad to think I will never see her again and that she will not be there as a rock solid presence supporting my books because she had believed in them and taken them on.
"She also was never afraid to offer a controversial glimpse into her thinking. At Frankfurt, when asked about Brexit, she made a point of asserting that the advantage the UK market historically has had with its exclusive rights in the European market would be over. Already raised eyebrows shot up even further when she added, 'I still don’t understand why the British think they have India,'" Publishing Perspectives wrote.
Among authors she published in a company that had 17 imprints were Frank McCourt, Stephen King, Hillary Clinton, Bruce Springsteen. And yet, S&S CFO Dennis Eulau notes: "She was equally attentive, on a personal level, to our authors, to whom she sent handwritten notes when they received awards, made the bestseller list, or simply to let them know when she finished reading their books."
This is true. Each time S&S published one of my books, including the very first, she wrote to me after reading it, and her comments showed she read with depth and intelligence and empathy. In 2011, when the Free Press (then a division of S&S) and its wonderful Martha Levin signed on An Atlas of Impossible Longing, by and by I had an email from Carolyn. I did not know who she was at that time and the email came with no pompous designation or job title. It was a while before my inquiries led to an answer about the writer of the email. "I was so captivated that I wanted to write and thank you for giving us a work of such depth and beauty," she wrote. "I was transported to another time and place, felt the oppressive heat and rising waters -- both of nature and of history as time passed."
By the time All the Lives We Never Lived was published, I was not surprised by her detailed and deeply felt reading of it, which followed in due course.
When we met, I had the sense of someone formidable yet democratic and unstuffy. It feels strange and sad to think I will never see her again and that she will not be there as a rock solid presence supporting my books because she had believed in them and taken them on.