I let my thumb
delete
the word “spring”

–Sayumi Kamakura, translated by James Shea, Applause for a Cloud (Black Ocean 2025)

Dear Reader,

When people first hear that I work in book publishing, the assumption is always that I’m an editor, as though that’s the only job that exists in the book world: the one that decides what is and isn’t published. And well, yes, in part of my life, I am that gatekeeper for Black Ocean, but in the part of my life that pays the bills, I am someone other—the one whose job it is to talk about books: the publicist. And, talk about books, I do. A LOT.

I thought it might be fun to tell you a little bit about the part of my job that is a mystery to most, and yet, is among the most fun and rewarding (and stressful) things I do: publicity calls. Twice a year, timed with the launch of the new seasonal catalog, I put on my walking shoes and head to my native New York City (and in the pre-pandemic years, DC as well) to talk about books. On my calendar are meetings with journalists, mostly book review editors, as well as the occasional radio producer or event series curator, with whom I have built relationships over my years in publishing. Some are editors I’ve followed in their careers as they’ve moved from publication to publication, and all are gracious enough to take 30-60 minutes out of their day and busy news cycle to chat with me about books. These are editors from publications you know and read, and they are the kinds of publications that can still make a difference for a serious book written for educated general readers (the bread and butter of the university press world)—places like The New Yorker, The New York Review of Books, Harper’s, Lit Hub, The Wall Street Journal, The New Criterion, and The New Republic.

My job is to decide from among the titles in our catalog (which often at the University Chicago Press numbers more than 600 a season when you factor in our client presses) which ones are appropriate for which contact and media outlet, and to come up with a few smart or interesting things to say about each. As you might imagine, I cannot read all or even most of the books I pitch. A few I’m likely working on as the lead publicist, so I have more familiarity, and most I will have encountered at some point during our Editorial Committee cycle, but that may have been months before. Most of my work is done in the week leading up to my trip to New York when I attend our seasonal sales conference in which my editorial colleagues do the incredible work of presenting their books to our sales and marketing team, and I studiously take notes like I’m back in college and everything is riding on the final grade. Then, I will spend the next few days reworking these notes into pitches, perhaps supplemented when I have questions or need clarity by a little reading of the manuscript or its readers’ reports or table of contents, even. Lots of notes, lots of rehearsing and reworking ideas, and pitching books to myself (and to my husband if he lets me) over and over until I am tired of the sound of my own voice. This is part of the fun—every six months, I get a brand new education. I learn a little bit more about economics or constitutional theory or African history or space exploration or factoids about jellyfish or frogs. I love all of the ideas and knowledge I get to gobble up until I am truly full.

Over the course of 15+ years making these publicity trips, however, I’ve had the opportunity firsthand to watch the shifts and transitions in our media landscape. I’ve watched the rise and fall of a lot of digital media and online magazines that, for a while, were the guaranteed home of book-related listicles and slideshow galleries. I’ve watched as one well-known publication’s book review section has become more focused on celebrity memoirs than substantial nonfiction. And, I’ve observed some print publications getting thinner and thinner with declining advertisers but still remaining committed to the cause of books. (Oh yes, and the rise of some newsletter platforms like Substack, where many journalists and writers have found a new home.)

We talk a lot about the atomization of the media when it comes to politics these days, but the same is true of book media and culture media as well. There are significantly more books being published each year than ever before (the number only increasing year to year), and the outlets and space for reviews have not remotely grown to match. At the same time, with the dispersion of media and our attention into more specialized and niche outlets, we’ve lost the power of a common or shared curator of taste. We all have different go-tos for recommendations and criticism, and that diversity is as helpful as it is harmful sometimes. I’ve watched a lot of good books not get the reviews they deserved. And, whether it’s books or music or movies, I know there is good stuff out there I am missing because I don’t have the time to cull through all of the voices in their many formats and platforms offering opinions. The reality is that book reviews are harder and harder to come by, and it takes more of them to have an impact on moving books. It is undoubtedly harder to be a publicist today than it was more than two decades ago when I started working in book marketing.

This makes me even more grateful for the publications and book review editors that have remained committed to covering and engaging with serious literature and nonfiction. And, I want to extend a big thank you to all of you who have taken on the often thankless (and not well compensated) task of reviewer and critic. We need you! And, I need to talk about books with you!

—Carrie

Hot Takes

Reading: I Am a Cat by Soseki Natsume. My Japanese cat-focused reading continues with this early 20th-century satirical novel. While reading a novel from the perspective of a very observant cat charms me greatly, the insight into Japan as it became much more open to the West is an unexpected bonus.

Watching: Welcome to Wrexham. What I lack in athletic ability, I make up for threefold as an avid sports fan. And as someone whose sports fandom involves supporting many of Chicago’s bottom-feeding teams, it’s the profiles of the steadfast but weary Wrexham football (soccer) fans that speak to me. (And, I’m hoping my luck will change as theirs has.)

Listening: Rat Wars by Health. I am a Gen Xer who spends a lot of time missing the 90s. And this album by Health, which I was introduced to as a result of their new collaboration with Chelsea Wolfe, warms my nostalgic heart in a The Crow soundtrack meets The Matrix kind of way.

This Month’s Recipe(s): Ramps & Chives

I’m keeping it simple and keeping it seasonal this May. One of the only upsides to this unseasonable cool spring is that ramps (the beloved stinky onion for which the city of Chicago was named) were still available when the farmers market opened earlier this month. If you’re lucky enough to still snag some, I recommend first making a compound butter with the greens (and pickling the bulbs for later), a butter that you can then use to make a creamy, garlicky, simple pasta (add asparagus and/or peas for an extra spring touch—and get crazy and dollop with stracciatella cheese). Get an easy recipe for the compound butter here.

One of my favorite rituals of spring is harvesting the big purple chive blossoms and turning them into a simple and delicious Japanese-style tempura. Get the recipe here, and be sure to use seltzer water in the batter, which makes it light and fluffy. (And while you’re at it, turn those chive greens into compound butter as well and freeze it for later).

Upcoming Poetry & Biscuits Reading

Mark your calendars! More readers and dates will be added soon. And, I always welcome your suggestions and recommendations for writers who may be traveling through Chicago. Send me your readers!

July 18, 2025: Jenny Browne, MC Hyland, Kristi Maxwell, and David Welch

September 2025: Liam Heneghan, Erika Meitner, Christine Poreba, and Andrew Zawacki

November 21, 2025: Joseph Peterson, Donna Vorreyer