
Photo: Joel Goodman/The Guardian.
Kevin Duffy has built a publishing business in his home that focuses on ten books a year, many of them prize contenders.
Do you know the Aesop fable in which animal mothers brag about the number of their children? According to MIT Classics, “A controversy prevailed among the beasts of the field as to which of the animals deserved the most credit for producing the greatest number of whelps at a birth. They rushed clamorously into the presence of the Lioness and demanded of her the settlement of the dispute. ‘And you,’ they said, ‘how many sons have you at a birth?’ ”
And the Lioness said, “I have only one. But that one is a lion.”
That is my introduction to a story about a publisher who publishes only ten books a year.
Helen Pidd, North of England editor of the Guardian, writes, “The two-up, two-down terraced house on a cobbled Hebden Bridge street does not look like the headquarters of a multi award-winning publishing house.
“There is no gleaming edifice, no sign and certainly no reception desk. The green front door leads straight into Kevin Duffy’s living room, the nerve centre of Bluemoose books, his independent literary hit factory.
“It is at a cluttered table in the corner that Duffy has built a business with a success rate that billion-pound publishers regard with envy. Each year, Bluemoose puts out no more than 10 titles, but a remarkable number end up in contention for major literary prizes.
“Each author is handpicked by Duffy, 62, a self-confessed ‘control freak’ from Stockport, Greater Manchester, who spent years as a salesperson for big publishers before remortgaging his house to start Bluemoose in 2006. …
“It was Duffy who published Benjamin Myers’ The Gallows Pole, which has been made into a BBC series that was given five stars by the Guardian. …
“In March, Bluemoose won best northern publisher at the Small Press of the Year awards. In April, a Bluemoose title – I Am Not Your Eve, the debut novel by Devika Ponnambalam, which tells the story of Paul Gauguin’s child bride and muse, Teha’amana – was shortlisted for the £25,000 Walter Scott prize for historical fiction. …
“Bluemoose’s current bestselling author is Rónán Hession, a former musician who balances his writing career with being the assistant general secretary of the department of social protection in the Irish government.
“Hession’s 2019 debut Leonard and Hungry Paul, a funny and tender story about kindness, has sold more than 125,000 copies worldwide. A bestseller in Germany, it has also attracted fans in Hollywood – Duffy recalls receiving an email from someone claiming to be Julia Roberts’s agent. …
“ ‘Then her PR person got in touch saying she wanted to get in touch with Rónán because she loved the book. … How wonderful is that? She just wanted to say thank you,’ he said. …
“Another Bluemoose success story with a day job is Stuart Hennigan, a librarian from Leeds. Ghost Signs, an eyewitness account of the impact of the early days of the pandemic on those living in poverty, made the shortlist of the Parliamentary Book awards.
“Duffy shares an anarchic streak with Hennigan, finding it hilarious when he turned up to the Tory-packed ceremony in a T-shirt that said: ‘Still hate Thatcher.’ …
“Duffy remains Bluemoose’s only employee, drawing a ‘tiny’ salary, working with five freelance editors, including his lawyer wife, Hetha.
“He is happy that way. ‘I don’t want to be the next Penguin. I don’t want to be a huge business. I just want to publish eight to 10 books a year, make a bit of a profit and invest it all back into the business to find new writers,’ Duffy said.
“Running Bluemoose is a seven-day-a-week vocation. On an average day, Duffy receives 10-20 unsolicited pitches, usually the first three chapters of a new book, all of which, he insists, he reads. Perhaps four in a month will grab his attention enough for him to ask for the full manuscript.
“Duffy insists that there remains a ‘class ceiling‘ in the publishing of literary fiction. LGBTQ+ writers are being given deals, as well as people of color, he says, but working-class writers are not being heard. …
“ ‘The people making those publishing decisions, because of their educational background and their life background, are not reading books about people in the rest of the country. You know, 93% of the people in this country don’t go to private school. There’s a reading public out there that wants books about themselves and the areas they live in.’
“Myers, he notes, originally signed with Picador, which would not publish Pig Iron, his third novel about a Traveling community in the north-east. ‘Because, they said, “who would be interested in a working-class character from a small northern town?” That small northern town was Durham, theological capital of Europe for 2,500 years.
“ ‘Pig Iron went on to win the inaugural Gordon Burn prize. Ben’s next book, Beastings, won the £10,000 Portico prize. Then The Gallows Pole won the world’s leading prize for historical fiction. Then all the agents were interested,’ he said.”
As a reader who turns to Dickens whenever in doubt, I am surprised to find that I actually have read (and liked) one of these: Leonard and Hungry Paul. That’s because Wendy Greenberg, a prolific UK reader on Goodreads, wrote about it.
More at the Guardian, here.

Bless the small presses. They work hard and deserve their success.
What an impressive record. Definitely a case of quality over quantity. I was especially taken with
“working-class writers are not being heard.” Do you think the same is true in the U.S.? I’m thinking it might be. As far as I can tell, literary fiction in this country tends to revolve around the neurotic troubles of the bourgeoisie.
When I try to think of exceptions, I just come up with authors who wrote about working class characters without being working class. But I don’t read much that’s contemporary.