Dinner, elves and Björk
Last week, I told you how I visited Iceland on a book tour in 1995. I had dinner the first evening with my publishers Ólafur, Pétur and three of their colleagues. On the way, I spotted my first tree! It was, squat, no more than ten feet high, its naked, twisted branches shivering in the front garden of a small house. The house itself seemed to be constructed of white-painted corrugated iron with a red-painted iron roof. Indeed the hill in the centre of Reykjavík seemed to be covered in these brightly painted toy metal houses, gleaming in the evening sunshine. It was all rather jolly. We went to a crowded restaurant and ate delicious fish. By this time, I was becoming used to dinners with publishers. Publishers are by and large well-read, friendly, interesting people. The talk often revolves around books, new and old, and people. Despite the bad press they sometimes get, people in book marketing love books as much as editors do. Elves ...