veranda with plants and comfy chairs.

While browsing in The Ivy Bookshop in Baltimore, my eye caught some books with a fascinating appearance. Gorgeously displayed with their covers facing out, these books were clearly all published by the same quirky small publishing company. No large publishing company would dare to do anything so unusual.

The books were paperback with sturdy matte covers. They were just barely smaller than a standard paperback book: large enough to look like a normal book, but small enough to look appealingly petite. They all featured an ampersand symbol (like this, only fancier and with more flourishes: &) in the center of the cover.

But the best thing about these covers is that they had no pictures, only words, and better yet, the words included the title, author, and opening sentences. To indicate a paragraph break, there was a paragraph symbol (¶), allowing the words to continue in a block that took up the bottom half of each cover. The font was sufficiently large that it could be read from several feet away.

I have long felt that the best way to judge whether you will like a book is by reading the first few sentences. This display at The Ivy Bookshop presented me with a unique experience: I was able to do so at a glance, without having to pick up individual books and flip through pages to find the opening lines. This made my browsing experience much easier than usual!

A Small Book from a Small Publishing Company

Joyfully, I read the opening sentences of several books, without moving a muscle. I selected for purchase a book with this on its cover:

“¶ The party was a failure. I can’t even tell you what a failure it was. There are no words. Only a great pain in my chest when I wake up. On the veranda. It’s better when I sit in the chair. Oh, but then I can see around. The gauzy curtains, pushed by the breeze! The glasses on the floor. Little ghosts! Last night the American walked around sniffing at them like a dog. He said, Who would leave all these dead soldiers behind?”

This is my kind of writing. Colloquial and unpretentious, yet strange and puzzling. Vivid and clear, as if I’m there with the embarrassed, sickened protagonist on the veranda amidst the glasses; and yet why are they described as ghosts? And what does the bit about “dead soldiers” even mean? (According to the internet, it’s slang for empty glasses or cans of alcohol. Maybe you knew that already. It was new to me.) I’m imagining a scene like the photo above, except with glasses, formerly full of alcohol, left at random on the beautiful wooden floor, and a hungover woman slumped in one of the fancy chairs, and this is probably taking place in Europe.

The 2024 short story collection Ghost Pains, by Jessi Jezewska Stevens, continues in this colloquial and unpretentious, strange and puzzling way. Take these sentences from the story “Honeymoon”:

“One of the most interesting discoveries about being married, I find, is that those things you choose not to say out loud don’t register at all. No one reads your mind.”

Is this commentary on the irreplaceable closeness of the family in which one grows up? Or commentary on the protagonist having been spoiled by her parents? Or commentary on the lack of connection between the protagonist and her husband? Or commentary on all three? In any case, it is interesting.

My favorite quote from the book is this one, from the story “A New Book of Grotesques”:

“I wondered what percentage of advice I’d received in life was faulty. There is no advice, really, for getting what you want, except to recognize when it arrives. And then to hold on.”

That’s right. There’s nothing wrong with taking advice seriously, but your own path will always be unique. And hidden from even you, until you find it. And even then, still hidden from everyone else.

A Small Publishing Company with a Big Purpose

Speaking of life paths, one great path is to read a book from this small publishing company with uniquely covered books. Based in Sheffield, England, it’s called And Other Stories.

I love this: They offer subscriptions whereby you can receive three books per year for $60 or six books per year for $120. Thus, for only $20 per book, you get a selection of international literary fiction and poetry, some of the books originally written in English and some in translation. You also get your name printed in each of the books you receive, since you are a direct supporter of them.

Why Purchase Books From a Small Publishing Company?

There are many good reasons to support a small publishing company, especially one that jibes with you and your personality.

Many small publishing companies are not companies at all, but nonprofit organizations. And Other Stories is a nonprofit that passes all extra profits to the authors and translators who created the works. This is an organization very different from the publishing companies that produce most books. It is much friendlier to the people who do the creative work.

Also, please know that the most popular fiction books, the ones featured in every bookstore and on every social media platform and in every airport convenience store, must go through a cookie-cutter gauntlet (sorry about that truly terrible mixed metaphor) in order to make it to the top of the bestseller list. These books are faddish, usually exciting and flashy and romantic, and always easy to read. But in many important ways, these books are all the same.

If you’ve had a long day at work, or a tiring day raising kids, or a hair-raising day of watching the news, perhaps you don’t feel like reading anything other than simple, fun books. Trust me, I get it. Please do whatever you need to do to relax in this crazy, f’ed-up world.

But please also make time for all the colors of the rainbow, not just the one popular color. Make time for the vastness and uniqueness of human existence and experience.

Literary presses are small, but they are important. Just because something’s popular doesn’t mean it’s great, profound, insightful, beautiful, or unique. Too often, popularity means it’s none of these things. I am so grateful that small literary presses exist. Their editors actively curate a collection based on the greatness, not the salability, of the writing.

Do you ever buy a fruit you’ve never tasted before, just to experience something different?


Featured in this post: Ghost Pains by Jessi Jezewska Stevens Buy it now