Career path: Erica Wagner

Erica Wagner has worked in publishing for over 30 years, starting out as a trainee children’s editor at Penguin Australia and going on to spend 20 years at the helm of Allen & Unwin’s children’s division. Now freelancing, Wagner is also currently a co-manager of independent Melbourne comics and graphic novel publisher Twelve Panels Press, whose book Still Alive (Safdar Ahmed) was recently shortlisted for the 2022 CBCA Book of the Year Awards and NSW Premier’s Literary Awards. Wagner shares her career journey.

When and why did you decide to pursue a career in the book industry?

My first job was crushing boxes at the back of Thesaurus, my local bookshop, when I was 15. I was a voracious reader and my favourite subjects at school were English and art. Books combined those two loves. I completed one year of an arts degree after school, and then deferred to go travelling. I fell in love with a poet in Cornwall, and soon we were married, living in a tent on a tomato farm in North Queensland and having two children in quick succession.

Back in Melbourne, we got to know local writers and were part of the underground poetry scene. I designed the La Mama Poetica poster, hand-lettering it each month, and illustrated a book of poems by Kristin Henry. My interest in kids’ books grew as my children grew. Needing a job, I returned to Thesaurus part time, and became responsible for the children’s section and window displays. It was around this time that I had my epiphany—that I wanted to work with books, but not with the public; that I wanted to be an editor, without actually knowing what an editor did. So I wrote to Penguin Books and asked, what do you have to do to be an editor? Bruce Sims replied, and his advice—to get any job I could in the publishing industry and to work my way up, that secretarial skills would be useful—was gold for me. His reply gave me the courage to apply for a job as a trainee children’s editor at Penguin Australia.

Can you walk us through your various roles and companies to date?

I started at Penguin Books Australia in 1988. Julie Watts saw something in the young woman I was then—25, two little kids, wearing a rainbow-coloured jumper and feather earrings (my smartest outfit), pretending I was just a little rusty with my non-existent typing skills … and I’m eternally grateful to her for giving me my lucky break.

I had so much to learn, and then, as now, I’m so grateful to the colleagues who helped me understand office etiquette, while I read manuscripts and wrote letters, giving my typewriter’s corrector ribbon a hefty workout. I learnt everything about editing through trial and error, my work supervised by Julie and the authors training me with their expressive responses to my editorial notes. What an education. I was fortunate to shadow experienced editor Kay Ronai on Isobelle Carmody’s The Farseekers. That was a seminal learning experience for me—I got my head around that manuscript by reading it aloud with a colleague, while sharing the long commute to the Ringwood offices. Being Melina Marchetta’s editor for Looking for Alibrandi, working with Maureen McCarthy, Judith Clarke, and Paul Jennings, Terry Denton and Ted Greenwood on their brilliant wordplay books, were highlights of those years.

It was a time of rapid growth with a real hunger for Australian stories, and as the children’s list grew from 50 books to 120 a year, I climbed up the editorial ladder, becoming a commissioning editor and later associate publisher, championing authors like Sonya Hartnett, Leigh Hobbs and Boori Monty Pryor, nurturing new voices and advocating for them in house. It was an exciting time. Risks were taken and risqué subject matter was stretching the boundaries of what a children’s book could be. Young adult literature surged—spearheaded by powerhouse Agnes Nieuwenhuizen, whose Booktalkers and Bookgigs and later the Centre for Youth Literature gave new and established writers a platform to reach young readers as well as teachers and librarians.

1999 was a big year—I’d left Penguin at the end of the previous year to establish Silverfish, a children’s list for Duffy & Snellgrove, and also spent three months in the US on the Beatrice Davis Editorial Fellowship. I learnt so much in a short space of time, especially the difference between a large multinational company and a small, more precarious, independent publishing house. After my first five books were published, Allen & Unwin acquired the Silverfish list in February 2000 and I landed alongside Rosalind Price at her handmade table in the A&U Rathdowne Street office.

My initial role at Allen & Unwin was to contribute 10–12 titles per year to the list and this grew to 25–30 titles per year. During those years, I developed a particular passion for illustrated books, graphic novels and picture books for older readers. My relationship with Leigh Hobbs and his idiosyncratic characters continued, and I started working with other illustrators constructing stories in pictures. Working with Gregory Rogers on his wordless ‘Boy Bear’ series and publishing Nicki Greenberg’s graphic adaptations of The Great Gatsby and Hamlet were highlights of this time.

When Rosalind retired in 2007, I took on the top job, responsible for 14 staff and 70 titles. Thank heavens for my excellent colleagues as it was a challenging role, made more so as competition ratcheted up, the book industry was rocked by the GFC, and the market became more volatile and less predictable. My management obligations left me with little time and energy for creative conversations and I worried a lot about the bottom line. Perversely, the more I understood about the business side of publishing, the more risk averse I became. In 2009, with the blessing of A&U CEO Robert Gorman, I stepped back from full-time management to focus solely on publishing again, in a part-time role that gave me space for my own art practice. Almost instantly my publishing joie de vivre returned and as my partner Craig Smith and I travelled to remote parts of central and northern Australia, a passion for facilitating more books about the Aboriginal history of our country led to hugely rewarding projects like Maralinga, the Anangu Story by Yalata and Oak Valley Communities and Christobel Mattingley, Cheeky Dogs, to Lake Nash and Back by Dion Beasley and Johanna Bell, and Mumu Mike Williams’ Kulinmaya, Keep Listening Everybody!

I also worked closely with the Little Big Bookclub in a partnership project with A&U to produce a number of picture books with First Nations creators, involving mentoring and ongoing support for first time authors and illustrators. I could see that better pathways were needed for people outside the major cities to connect with publishers, and that time and workload pressures on editors and publishers precluded much of the nurturing, developmental work on projects with potential that had been possible earlier in my career.

Serendipity stepped in again with Johanna Bell inviting me to Darwin for six months in 2019 to co-facilitate the inaugural Octopus Story Camp with a diverse group of 24 writers and artists. This model, involving four workshops over six months and individual mentoring in between was enormously satisfying, professionally and personally, with several books incubated as part of Octopus now published or in the pipeline. This was another life-changing time, introducing me (early) to the idea of working remotely. On my return, I knew it was time for a new chapter and I retired from my role as executive publisher at Allen & Unwin in early 2020.

Now working freelance, I move between project-managing books for publishers from concept to finished book; mentoring and supporting creators developing picture books; co-managing, with Bernard Caleo and Elizabeth MacFarlane, the publishing and distribution of Twelve Panels Press, our tiny graphic novel publishing venture; and … working on illustrations for my first picture book.

What has been the most valuable thing you have learned throughout your career?

I’ve learnt so much from every book I’ve ever worked on. But if I have to choose one thing, it’s the team. The team is the most important thing about publishing. The bookmaking team is a crucible, in which the manuscript is pushed and pulled into shape, illustration, design, production choices are made—and stories transform into printed objects. The author and illustrator have done their best, the editor has to hold it all together, and the publisher’s job is to keep the energy flowing, keep the team buoyant and resilient through the inevitable highs and lows, advocating, cajoling, pushing, persuading and trying to make sure everything happens on time and on budget…

Trusting those you work with, trusting the creative process, listening to your instincts, making lists and being organised, hoping for the best, preparing for the worst—all these things are important. Every book is different; the process can’t be done by rote; there are always unexpected challenges. Finding creative ways to stay calm and/or release the tension … feel the fear and do it anyway!

What is your proudest career achievement so far?

I love it when good things happen to books and authors I’ve worked with, when there is recognition, rights sales, shortlistings, prizes. When an author after years of effort strikes it lucky … When I know how much work has gone into a book—the author doggedly pursuing the idea, refining words, draft after draft, when illustrations are roughed out and realised in stunning final form, and then a real live child is absorbed in that book, poring over the pictures, wanting to hear the story again and again. When it’s clear that the right balance has been found between the author’s work, the commercial product, and the intended reader. That magic is addictive … which is why I’m still doing it!

It meant a lot to me to be awarded the Dromkeen Medal in 2017 and the Pixie O’Harris in 2020. Part of what made those moments so special was the chance to thank everyone who has helped me along the way. Nothing happens in isolation.

What do you enjoy most about your current role?

I love the freedom to organise my time to suit myself, and the release from the day-to-day pressures and responsibilities of working in-house. I like the entrepreneurial aspect of working freelance and the nitty gritty of running a micro-press. For example, right now, I’m very engaged with boxes again (full circle, after 45 years), packing and posting parcels for Twelve Panels Press after a rush of orders following the CBCA shortlisting of our second book, Still Alive by Safdar Ahmed.

I’m grateful that I can focus on the aspects of publishing I love the most: seeing a seed of potential in a manuscript and working with the author or illustrator to make it the best it can be. Working in small teams with highly skilled amazing people who I’d trust with my life. Getting excited about new authors and illustrators and having the chance to help them on their path to future success.

As I wrestle with my own creative projects, I find myself looking to others to give me that same clear-eyed engagement: honest feedback and space for me to find my own solutions. It’s a powerful thing to have someone in your corner. When you find this, grab it—it’s gold.

What are the most significant changes you’ve seen during your time in the industry?

The technological changes are huge—from paper and pencils, typewriters, scalpels and glue to top notch computers for all, and everything happening on screen. The power to make one thousand changes right up to the last minute and beyond; advances in reproduction and printing technology making it possible to print books of different shapes and sizes and page extents and swish finishes relatively economically.

Pressure seems to have ratcheted up, but then, looking back, in publishing things were always hard and getting harder. There is always tension between going for what’s worked before and taking a chance on the strange new thing wanting to burst through. Trends are definitely cyclical—you just have to try and catch the wave at the right time.

It is not a neat industry. We want breadth and opportunity for all, but publishers need commercial successes to stay afloat. Maybe things are leaner and meaner than when I first started, but I am an optimist and from my spot, I think writing, illustrating and publishing in Australia—especially in my area, books for children and young adults—is as healthy as it’s ever been.

What does the industry still need to do better?

Pay rates for staff and creators have not increased for years and excessive workloads remain an ongoing issue, leading to burn-out. This is an issue that should be addressed as publishers work at making the industry more attractive to people from diverse backgrounds.

Telling the story of how publishers think and explaining to the public (and politicians) why books are important and how the book industry works is an ongoing PR task. I remember when there was a Book Bounty, support towards production costs for books that were of cultural significance. Can we start a movement to bring that back?

Finally, fearlessness in publishing is needed always, and now more than ever. In these increasingly censorious and litigious times, we need to amplify the voices of writers and artists who reflect back to us the contradictions in our society, calling out hypocrisy and injustice and in some parts of the world putting their lives on the line, asking us to listen, to defend, and to engage with the big ideas that might just change the future for the better.

What advice do you have for those aspiring to a career in books?

Do it! It is still an amazingly flexible, creative industry. There is room for you. You’ll be at the cutting edge of culture, part of a dynamic community full of fierce, funny, warm and clever people.

Pictured: Erica Wagner. Credit: Craig Smith.

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Category: Features