FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 2000. All Rights Reserved

Books by Lee Shedden In the wake of Expo 1967, an explosion of nationalism fuelled the rise of small literary publishing houses. Prior to the establishment of the Canada Council for the Arts a decade earlier, indigenous Canadian publishing was an exceedingly rare bird. Only a handful of Canadian-owned publishing houses existed, and until the mid-1960s, fewer still published anything that we might call "Canadian literature." In most cases, when Canadian writers were published, they were published by foreign-owned houses. The cultural foment of the late 1960s and early 1970s produced a new generation of writers whose work was too esoteric, or was considered "too regional," to find a home with either the old Canadian guard or with companies whose editors lived in London or New York. Artist-run literary publishers such as House of Anansi, The Coach House Press and Press Porcepic began to emerge. By the mid-1970s, when the noble idea of an indigenous publishing community had become an entrenched reality, writers from outside Central Canada began to bristle at having to send their work to Toronto for validation and publication. Why shouldn't publishers based in Fredericton, Winnipeg and Vancouver publish writers from their own regions, drawing on the energies and talents of local writing communities? Enter NeWest Press, Vehicule, Turnstone – and Coteau Books. This autumn marks Coteau's 25th anniversary, an astonishing milestone for a "regional" publisher to reach, signalling a coming of age. Based in Regina, Coteau began as a collective dedicated to publishing new work by Saskatchewan poets. A quarter-century later, still operating as a collective, it’s a much larger part of the Canadian cultural landscape than might be imagined, considering you've probably never heard of it – Coteau’s authors are spread from Nanaimo to Antigonish, though its emphasis is still on Western Canada. Coteau's production values are superb. To choose just one example, the recent book Sightlines by Leona Theis is gorgeous, as stellar in every way as any comparable volume from a major publisher. Another point of pride is the quality of their editorial work. "The kind of attention we can and do devote (to editorial) is unmatched by those further up the scale. We've had authors say 'Yeah, I get edited, but it's nothing like being edited at Coteau,'" says Nik Burton, Coteau's managing editor. Because small presses often act as the "farm teams" for major houses – discovering and nurturing writers who may achieve fame only after leaving – the list of authors they've sent to major presses becomes, somewhat perversely, a small press's premier symbol of status. In that regard Coteau's stock is high: it published early work by Lorna Crozier; Sharon Butala's and last year's Giller Prize winner Bonnie Burnard's first books; and A Celibate Season, a novel co-authored by Blanche Howard and Carol Shields. Don Dickinson and Warren Cariou are Coteau writers who have more recently entered the major leagues. Calgary's own Fred Stenson, who has just been shortlisted for the Giller prize, had two books published by Coteau. Last Christmas, Gold on Ice: the Story of the Sandra Schmirler Curling Team caught Coteau – and everyone else – off guard by becoming a runaway bestseller. It appeared on national bestseller lists and has sold over 20,000 copies, allowing Coteau to eliminate their debt and update their aging computer system. It has been a godsend: "Technology is what allows us little guys to compete with the big boys in terms of production values," Burton explains. In this age of publishing monoliths, it's encouraging that smaller presses can still carve themselves out a niche then grow from within it. As a testament to that, Coteau has tripled in size since 1995. But despite their national success, they still face significant challenges. "Although Coteau's stature has increased substantially, there are still instances where the reaction of the bookselling and book media communities has been, 'If this book is any good, what's it doing at a little press like Coteau?' Booksellers will shy away from ordering in substantial quantity in a way they won't with a larger publisher." What does the future hold for Coteau? "We're sticking with what got us here, what we do best," Burton says, "and trying new things – not just two fiction, three poetry and two (juvenile novels) every season. We have all kinds of plans. Expect to see some really different books come from us in the next few years, but our primary commitment will always be to bring new and strong literary voices to the people."

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