A fellow former acquisitions editor for a local publishing house sent me the following link to one of Garrison Kiellor's former posts.
Interesting (fairly brief) column by Garrison Keillor on publishing.
We were acquisitions editors once; now we've moved on to new career paths, some might say more respectable, depending on the publishing house, I suppose. I responded to my colleague and to Garrison with my own take on the fate of traditional publishing and the acquisition of authors for "house stable":
We almost traveled in that world, you and I, when the likes of inspiring religious authors like Paul C. awaited our calls and emails, rolling new ideas around in their minds so to be ready to let them roll and flow off their tongues hoping to grab our interest, land a contract with three figure author advances and escalating royalties on the first 500 copies flying off the shelves to those readers oh so eager to find a path to heightened spiritual awareness and answers to the questions burning in their hearts and souls, but now others sit in our places at the cocktail parties in Barnhart smiling coyly across the table near the door at GiGi's writing down every word uttered by this being of higher thought and pure holiness, like Joe K., Joan C., Sean M., Andrew C. W., and so many others, watching the cars pass along the freeway of Jefferson County under the crystal blue skies just north of Crystal City in America's heartland where people still read books because the internet has not yet come over power lines, cable wires, and cell phone towers, home of the brave and last remaining Christians, not many of whom are Roman in their beliefs, and at the end of the shared meal, bread broken, hearts stirred, the new editors shake hands, maybe hugging with the pastorally correct one arm, those monks, brothers, sisters, and clergy, a few lay Christian writers, promising to call or email and invite them for further conservations which will certainly include the marketing minds ever vigilant to sell the five-hundred and first copy for which the author will earn extra royalties and be able to buy an extra gallon of gasoline, as prices for fuel rise faster than the incense upon the altars of worship of which they write.