Jon Roemer is the publisher/senior editor at Outpost19, an award-winning San Francisco-based publisher of fiction and nonfiction books. His own work has appeared in StatORec, Spine, The Millions, The Writer, OZY, SF Chronical Book Review, 3:AM, and elsewhere. His first novel, Five Windows—which Independent Book Review describes as “one part humor, one part ambiguous, and all parts existential”—is the kind of book readers want to share just so they can discuss it with others. We got to talk to Jon not only about Five Windows but also about book publishing generally, living and working in San Francisco, the play and joy in emojis, and even the human spleen!
Your book list at Outpost19 is very impressive, a great mix of fiction and nonfiction titles. How difficult is it to keep things running at an award-winning publishing house while also trying to write your own fiction?
Busy days! But I’m inspired by the work that crosses my desk. Honored to have so much smart work sent my way. I always wish I could publish more, and much of it makes me want to write myself.
How would you best describe the kinds of projects Outpost19 looks for?
I first look for writing that I can’t stop reading. Then I think about other readers. Sometimes what thrills me doesn’t do it for others, so I research, look at trends, keep up with others’ lists, think about the bigger picture, see what I was missing while I was so enthralled.
Your novel Five Windows has been compared to Hitchcock’s 1954 thriller film Rear Window. Is that an apt comparison?
Rear Window was the starting point for Five Windows. Jeff Jeffries’ (aka Jimmy Stewart) has a famously limited view of his neighbors. The paranoia that triggers is an apt comparison for urban life in San Francisco, where I live and where I set Five Windows. But I’m not a fan of Hitchcock’s dead-blonde storylines, so I shifted the tension to real-world issues, like displaced neighbors, wealthy vs. less-wealthy, threats of street violence, and shared catastrophes like fires.
If you were meeting with producers about turning Five Windows into a film, what would your elevator pitch be?
A homebound man falls victim to his own suspicions as the city out his windows shows signs of troubling changes.
Upsetting things are going on all around the narrator in Five Windows. His neighbors are rude and maybe even crazy. Fires keep breaking out in nearby buildings. Gunshots are heard at night. Vandalism is a regular occurrence. And windows in his apartment break during the course of the novel—one from wood rot but others from things being launched at them. Yet the narrator’s interest in these and other events seems mild in proportion to the events themselves. Are you saying something about the normalization of ruination?
Definitely. All of these events are common where I live. I often hear gunshots, I live in a 100-year-old building with a window or two that’s needed repair, and the tension on the street is an everyday topic, mostly tied to the pace of displacement here… In the book, the narrator’s complacency/detachment is meant to build through the story, and hopefully, it becomes disturbing for the reader.
Your narrator is reclusive. Everything he needs is delivered to him, including food. He even has an app that can arrange for repairmen when he needs his windows replaced. It seems kind of bizarre—until you realize that most of us live like that in these times. Do you agree, and if so, where do you think this lack of engagement might lead us?
San Francisco is the birthplace of the tech behind the on-demand economy, and the city has become a poster-child for its ill effects. San Francisco used to be a celebration of the weird and open-minded, a safe place for countercultures, a bohemian haven, a shelter for refuseniks. That’s a bit of a cartoon, but the page has definitely turned. It’s now notorious for its isolation—people sticking to their own because it’s easy because they can because everything they think they need can be delivered to their door. In the book, the regular deliveries are symptomatic, another way for the narrator to reinforce his own isolation.
Like you, the narrator is a book publisher. One of his most successful books is a complete history of the spleen, including its function in myth and literature. Obviously, this is satire, but it calls into question the range of unlikely submissions that must come across your desk. Would you care to comment on that? And strangely enough, because your narrator is so enamored of this spleen book, ultimately it does cause the reader (this one at least) to think, Yeah, spleen, why not? Have you come to feel like that about the fictitious spleen book too?
I’m glad you found humor in the spleen book. It’s supposed to show how you never know what people are going to like. Personally, I’d love that book. I love short books that look intensely at a small, overlooked subject. So masterful and so artful when they’re done right. But I was careful to avoid any actual submissions. None of the books in Five Windows were submitted to me. I am very grateful for the submissions that come my way, and while the flow is intense, the only comment I’ll make generally is that I wish they were even more unexpected and weird.
The cash cow that makes book publishing possible for your narrator is a puppy calendar that he puts out annually. That’s funny, but it also begs the question, Do small publishers need some kind of a gimmick to compete in these times?
Love that question. Small publishers have a hard slog. We’re competing against multinational conglomerates who are very good at selling a lot of mediocre stuff. Which is probably why they’re multinationals and conglomerates. They’re also shameless about gimmicks, so if a small publisher can find one that’s smart and maybe not so compromising… In the real world, that’s still a gambit and one that drains resources from more significant projects. In the book, the calendars are not an example of a gimmick that’s particularly smart.
Your narrator receives one submission from a very well-known author. He can’t figure out why an author this successful would want to be published by his small(er) press. Looking for answers online, he finds YouTubes in which the author is shouting mean things to people who have gathered to hear him speak! One person applauds his behavior, saying it’s about time that people are saying what they’re really thinking. Again, you seem to be tapping into a universal concern, at least among the people who believe it’s best to keep some of our thoughts to ourselves. Yes?
People acting out, behaving explosively, engaging in confrontation—I intended that as a thread throughout the book. The popular author is on the brink of failure and falling apart. The narrator only gets glimpses of it, but the popular author is not a fit business partner.
This same mean fictitious author does say one thing that rings true, something about replacing words with pictures. Should that be a concern for people who love to read? And the people who publish their books?
It’s a complaint I hear often, how visual culture has usurped the written word. People write with emojis instead of complete sentences as if we’re reverting to the caveman’s scrawl. But there’s deep sophistication in our visual culture, a highly refined literacy behind Instagram posts—and the shorthand of everyday texts. I admire, especially, the play and the joy in it. Anything to help people communicate more. But I also have faith in the power of the voice, which is rooted in words and exemplified in the text of well-crafted books.
What are you working on now?
Thank you for asking! I’ve just finished a novel. It shares some of the same concerns but instead of watching one man unravel, it involves a small group of people who come to understand how their lives are intertwined. I’ve always been interested in what one human owes another and the trouble that comes from negotiating those debts.
Where can readers learn more about your work?
http://outpost19.com/FiveWindows