Vale Bruce Sims 

Editor and publisher Bruce Sims has died, aged 75.

In collaboration with Sims’s partner Peter Ronge, family, friends and publishing colleagues, Bryony Cosgrove writes:  

‘Bruce Sims was a brilliant editor and a shrewd publisher. He encouraged those working with him to follow hunches and ideas, and seemed to know everyone. He could always be found at writers’ festivals and awards functions outside, having a fag and a glass of wine, chatting with writers, journalists and other publishing folk. People enjoyed his company and greatly respected his opinions. He was a generous mentor and supporter to many in the arts world. Most of all, though, he was loved as a caring and kind friend. 

‘Bruce was born and grew up in Melbourne. After graduating from the University of Melbourne with a Bachelor of Arts in French Literature, he completed a Bachelor of Education at La Trobe University, after which he was employed as Activities Officer at La Trobe. He subsequently worked as a teacher at various schools, Collingwood Alternative School being his last teaching post, and for Correct Line Graphics, the publisher of Gay Community News Melbourne. 

‘Bruce was employed by Penguin Books Australia from 1982 to 1995, and during his time there took on the roles of editor, production manager, editorial manager, fiction publisher and adult list publisher, working with a wide range of authors including Henry Reynolds, Pramoedya Ananta Toer and his translator Max Lane, Morris Lurie, Barry Dickins, Sara Dowse, Amy Witting, John Bryson, Thea Astley, Tony Maniaty, Elizabeth Jolley, Julian Davies and Alex Miller. He also managed the McPhee Gribble list from 1994–1995. In 1995, he moved to Broome to take on the role of publishing manager at Magabala Books until 2000, where he expanded the publishing list and increased its marketing potential, working with authors such as Bruce Pascoe, Alexis Wright, Anita Heiss and Connie Nungalla McDonald. During that time, he also co-authored a guide to copyright issues for First Nations artists and writers with Jill Walsh and Colin Golvan. He continued to edit individual titles for Magabala Books as a freelancer. On returning to Melbourne, he established Bruce Sims Books, publishing works by Morris Lurie, Jane Nicholls, Susan Varga and Renata Singer, among others. Bruce tutored for several years in the APA’s Residential Editorial Program for mid-career editors, and he reviewed for a range of newspapers, journals and industry publications. From 2001, he worked as a freelance editor and publishing consultant. He guest-lectured in publishing programs and at writers’ centres around Australia, and presented at writers’ festivals, and he contributed a key chapter on Penguin Books Australia to a research project on Australian publishing headed by Ivor Indyk. He also wrote an essay titled ‘Plot Junkie’ for the Finlay Lloyd collection When Books Die. He read for several award judging panels, maintained active friendships with many authors and was editing until the week he died. 

‘Bruce was a keen traveller and always sent postcards from abroad, often with witty observations. He also loved reading, cooking, birds, theatre and music, and had a special fondness for opera, his favourite being Mozart’s Cosi Fan Tutte. He blogged regularly about his social, political, cultural, culinary, environmental and travelling activities. 

‘Bruce is survived by his partner of 46 years Peter Ronge; his children Kit, Nick and Morgan, and their partners and families; and his sister Julie and family.

‘Many tributes have been received from authors and publishing industry people with whom Bruce worked over the years. Below are just a few of these. His kindness, his sense of humour, his intellect and his editorial skills were widely known and appreciated.’

‘I thought he was amazing, and I trusted him, and his integrity. He helped me to grow as a writer, and he gave me the confidence to stand by my work. Bruce came up to Alice Springs those years ago after he had gone through such a terrible long ordeal in hospital, and I watched more than worked with him, while he turned the Carpentaria manuscript around with his brilliant structural edit while children ran back and forth through my old home up there. It was like watching magic take place with the manuscript. I was blessed to have worked with two of the finest editors in Australia—Bruce Sims and Ivor Indyk—who at different stages in the development of Carpentaria contributed their insight, understanding, and impeccable judgement. Then, when I was worried about the book when it was published—should I have waited, done more etc. etc., Bruce simply said to me, Alexis, it is what it is. And he was right. You can’t look back with regret once a book has been published, and I suppose that applies to many other things in life as well.’  (Alexis Wright, author) 

‘A dear, dear friend. One of the unsung heroes of the publishing world … and what an editor he was. Thank you for everything, Bruce. Your friendship, your generosity, your wit and sensitive shepherding of writers through the peaks and hollows of our work. You are missed more than you could ever know.’ (Sara Dowse, author) 

‘A lovely, generous man with no ego to spoil his charm. A giver, not a taker, and Penguin and all of us were fortunate to have him in our lives.’ (Bob Sessions, former publishing director, Penguin Books Australia) 

‘Bruce was such a wonderful surprise to me when he first joined us at Penguin—how bright and collaborative he was; how quickly he became indispensable—in so many roles, and for so long! He continued to be a special person to all his colleagues and friends for all these many years since.’ (Jackie Yowell, former managing editor, Penguin Books Australia) 

‘Bruce came to Magabala Books in 1995. I met him the first time just above Cable Beach. From a distance, he seemed formidable, his hair flowing down his back. It was like Poseidon surfacing. Bruce invested his heart (enormous), his intellect (prodigious) and his editorial skill (unparalleled) into Magabala for the next four and a half years. It wasn’t easy for Bruce as his longstanding partner, Peter Ronge, remained in Melbourne. Bruce immersed himself in the work, and most importantly, set about deftly infusing confidence in everyone at Magabala, particularly the younger Aboriginal staff in-house. Bruce could be brusque. He had no tolerance of political or professional acts of stupidity, self-interest or greed. He was prescient about writers, manuscripts, colleagues and people close to him. He had a phenomenal skill to identify potential. This was Bruce at his gentlest, capable of the lightest touch. His gift was to encourage a manuscript to be its best book; family, colleagues and friends to seize opportunities. Ultimately, Bruce left Broome to return to Melbourne, Peter and his family. What ensued were years of important editorial freelancing work. He maintained his connection with Magabala Books and its publisher, Rachel Bin Salleh, who was a young Magabala editor when Bruce first came. The Australian book industry has lost a Penguin and a bush banana (Magabala) and champion. Australia has lost an insightful and copious intellect. Those who love and admire Bruce can’t fathom his loss. His legacy will live on in every life he touched.’ (Jill Walsh, former manager, Magabala Books) 

‘I first went to Penguin as a trainee editor for a few weeks. At that time, Bruce was head of fiction, and made everything he did look effortless. He possessed extraordinary compassion and understanding, as he helped guide a shy, awkward and shabby First Nations random into being heard. We would share a lifetime of friendship that went beyond words, and he would become part of my DNA. When Bruce came to work at Magabala, he pulled up in his Kombi van, cracker dust billowing through the doors, and would alight with his tatts, his colourful man-bag, his thongs and that Bruce shuffle. He taught me to keep an open mind about the passage of any title, as it is bound to the journey of its creator.  He taught me that authenticity of voice, especially First Nations voices, was okay to keep and that truth-telling, in its various guises was perfectly acceptable. He also taught me that ‘cultural Stalinists’ could be found anywhere—and it wasn’t a colour thing. He taught me that it was okay to be a contrarian, and he encouraged it. He embodied subversion in wonderfully organic ways and showed that the heavy-handed nature of editing didn’t necessarily have a place in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander storytelling. He schooled me in the nuances that mainstream autobiography was probably the greatest fiction of all. Bruce was the walking embodiment of a bullshit detector. And Lordy, Did. We. Laugh. About everything ‘bullshitty’ that came our way. Bruce did so with his loaded chuckle, ‘I can smell a rat …’ and he’d be off, bloodyminded in his pursuit of the truth. He was a brotha from another mutha. Magabala is in the position it is today due to the early work and the lifelong friendships that Bruce brought with him. His legacy is in the memory-keepers that stayed to continue his good work and who retain parts of Bruce, during the everyday. There are many who come and go in our lives, and then there are those who never leave. Bruce’s many gifts will persist in the fabric of who we are and in the stories that he helped craft. His legacy is immeasurable, and I know he will be missed for an eternity. No words can explain how much he meant to so many, or the hole he will leave in our lives.’ (Rachel Bin Salleh, publisher, Magabala Books) 

Pictured: Bruce Sims in Cezanne’s studio in Aix-en-Provence

Category: Obituaries