Lindsey Davis

Content (Issue 2)

WELCOME

LINDSEY DAVIS

MATRONS' HOUR

WHEN IN ROME

TURBOTS AND TOGAS

Turbots and Togas: Twelve Years as Lindsey's Editor

It was the summer of 1988 and I had been hired by Sidgwick and Jackson to develop a fiction list. The company was situated a stone's throw from the British Museum and an air of antiquity drifted down Museum Street into the quaintly damp Dickensian offices where we plied our trade amongst decomposing piles of manuscripts and watched the mushrooms growing out of the walls.
I hadn't really counted on publishing any historical novels: my new bosses were more interested in racy thrillers and steamy romances, but of all the books that came my way in the two years of my employment, one stood out in terms of originality, voice and characterisation. It was of course, Lindseys first Falco novel, The Silver Pigs. Sosia the lovely but doomed heroine of the story ran into my life as surely as she ran up the steps of the Forum and (very nearly but not quite) into Falco's arms in the first line of the story.
Though The Silver Pigs didn't fit any of the categories of books I was meant to he buying, it was one of those moments when passion and admiration overcame reason and number-crunching business practices. Luckily it was a gut feeling shared by others, and I always remember the thrill when the late Edith Pargeter/Ellis Peters broke a lifetime's rule and generously gave a rave review for the book which graced the cover of it and all subsequent editions. We are now just about to publish Lindseys thirteenth novel, Ode to a Banker, here at Century and it has been the greatest pleasure and satisfaction in my publishing career to see the small acorn of The Silver Pigs grow into an internationally acclaimed and bestselling series of books.
I never found out what Lindsey felt about the eccentric nature of the Sidgwick offices, but later in a famous dinner to celebrate her third book, Venus in Copper, I visited her then flat in Holdenby Road, Brockley, and was pleased to discover that it bore an uncanny similarity to the description of Falco's walk-up in the Aventine. Past and present sat companionably side by side in the home of Falco's creator. That evening, perched in her miniscule sewing room (to quote: 'the usual party problems: not enough dishes and not enough seats' Venus in Copper, p. 205) we enjoyed one of the most memorable dinners any editor is likely to receive from their author; a dinner literally fit for an Emperor (or a future one, Titus), since it was the same as that served by Falco and Helena in their Aventine apartment ('Salad, The Turbot, More Salad, Fruit'). The Caraway Sauce was 'interesting' as I recall. I remember staring at the magnificent fish that occupied most of our tiny dining room and being told by her that in Roman times a fisherman lucky enough to catch one of these behemoths had hit a piscine jackpot: the price of one of them would be enough to buy a villa on the Island of Capri.
Naturally I was thrilled when Lindsey received a jackpot herself over the succeeding years. With the accolades and sales her books deserved, her circumstances improved, like her creation's, and she moved from that small flat into more spacious surroundings in Greenwich. Sometimes I wonder during my visits to her house, which always seems in a state of refurbishment with not a builder in sight, whether the spirits of Gloccus and Corta, Faleo and Helena's perpetually absentee building contractors, haven't subtly inveigled themselves into Lindsey's confidence, and then taken themselves off for the day 'to buy supplies'. As always, past and present cannot be separated in Lindsey's life and imagination.
The decade or more since that dinner has been one of delightful discovery: each new Falco novel brings fresh insight and knowledge to me, larger than life characters that have assumed such reality that they appear as dear friends. One of the most recent joys has been the acquisition of the rights for Arrow of Lindseys first two Falco books The Silver Pigs and Shadows in Bronze, left behind me at Sidgwick and now come 'home' to the list I edit. There have also been the bestseller lists, the many prizes and accolades which culminated last year with the award of the Ellis Peters CWA Historical Dagger. Lindsey has done more for the reputation and continued success of the historical novel in this country than anyone else in the last twelve years. As an editor one lives vicariously by an author's successes, but I doubt if any editor has gained as much pleasure as I have from Lindsey's success and her friendship over the years. - OLIVER JOHNSON, Editor.

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	Content (Issue 2) WELCOME LINDSEY DAVIS MATRONS' HOUR WHEN IN ROME TURBOTS AND TOGAS

	Turbots and Togas: Twelve Years as Lindsey's Editor It was the summer of 1988 and I had been hired by Sidgwick and Jackson to develop a fiction list. The company was situated a stone's throw from the British Museum and an air of antiquity drifted down Museum Street into the quaintly damp Dickensian offices where we plied our trade amongst decomposing piles of manuscripts and watched the mushrooms growing out of the walls. I hadn't really counted on publishing any historical novels: my new bosses were more interested in racy thrillers and steamy romances, but of all the books that came my way in the two years of my employment, one stood out in terms of originality, voice and characterisation. It was of course, Lindseys first Falco novel, The Silver Pigs. Sosia the lovely but doomed heroine of the story ran into my life as surely as she ran up the steps of the Forum and (very nearly but not quite) into Falco's arms in the first line of the story. Though The Silver Pigs didn't fit any of the categories of books I was meant to he buying, it was one of those moments when passion and admiration overcame reason and number-crunching business practices. Luckily it was a gut feeling shared by others, and I always remember the thrill when the late Edith Pargeter/Ellis Peters broke a lifetime's rule and generously gave a rave review for the book which graced the cover of it and all subsequent editions. We are now just about to publish Lindseys thirteenth novel, Ode to a Banker, here at Century and it has been the greatest pleasure and satisfaction in my publishing career to see the small acorn of The Silver Pigs grow into an internationally acclaimed and bestselling series of books. I never found out what Lindsey felt about the eccentric nature of the Sidgwick offices, but later in a famous dinner to celebrate her third book, Venus in Copper, I visited her then flat in Holdenby Road, Brockley, and was pleased to discover that it bore an uncanny similarity to the description of Falco's walk-up in the Aventine. Past and present sat companionably side by side in the home of Falco's creator. That evening, perched in her miniscule sewing room (to quote: 'the usual party problems: not enough dishes and not enough seats' Venus in Copper, p. 205) we enjoyed one of the most memorable dinners any editor is likely to receive from their author; a dinner literally fit for an Emperor (or a future one, Titus), since it was the same as that served by Falco and Helena in their Aventine apartment ('Salad, The Turbot, More Salad, Fruit'). The Caraway Sauce was 'interesting' as I recall. I remember staring at the magnificent fish that occupied most of our tiny dining room and being told by her that in Roman times a fisherman lucky enough to catch one of these behemoths had hit a piscine jackpot: the price of one of them would be enough to buy a villa on the Island of Capri. Naturally I was thrilled when Lindsey received a jackpot herself over the succeeding years. With the accolades and sales her books deserved, her circumstances improved, like her creation's, and she moved from that small flat into more spacious surroundings in Greenwich. Sometimes I wonder during my visits to her house, which always seems in a state of refurbishment with not a builder in sight, whether the spirits of Gloccus and Corta, Faleo and Helena's perpetually absentee building contractors, haven't subtly inveigled themselves into Lindsey's confidence, and then taken themselves off for the day 'to buy supplies'. As always, past and present cannot be separated in Lindsey's life and imagination. The decade or more since that dinner has been one of delightful discovery: each new Falco novel brings fresh insight and knowledge to me, larger than life characters that have assumed such reality that they appear as dear friends. One of the most recent joys has been the acquisition of the rights for Arrow of Lindseys first two Falco books The Silver Pigs and Shadows in Bronze, left behind me at Sidgwick and now come 'home' to the list I edit. There have also been the bestseller lists, the many prizes and accolades which culminated last year with the award of the Ellis Peters CWA Historical Dagger. Lindsey has done more for the reputation and continued success of the historical novel in this country than anyone else in the last twelve years. As an editor one lives vicariously by an author's successes, but I doubt if any editor has gained as much pleasure as I have from Lindsey's success and her friendship over the years. - OLIVER JOHNSON, Editor.
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