Notes from a New Year

What 2025 has in store at Valley Press – plus, 'walkie talkies' with Di Slaney

Hi everyone! You’ll find a long-overdue update from me below; but first, news of a new book (which is why we’re all here, after all).

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January conversations, with dogs

The comma in that title is a particularly crucial one – this is not a seasonal, canine-centric sequel to Doctor Dolittle, but rather conversations near dogs, recounted in sparse, subtle poetry by veteran Valley Press author Di Slaney. It’s a thoughtful, diary-like journey through the longest month, where the fields and the air are cold, but warmth can be found in connections with two and four-legged friends alike.

Di’s careful observations – portraits in their own right – have been further brought to life throughout the pamphlet with gorgeous, full-colour illustrations by fellow poet Jane Burn. It’s a beautiful, tactile little volume, a pleasure just to hold; sewn-bound for extra durability, with thicker-than-usual paper, and shipping with a limited-edition bookmark (pictured below). One of our most giftable publications for sure, and exclusively available from the Valley Press web shop, for the time being.

Here’s Di’s entry for 25th January:

Late out today after taking
husband to hospital
for his operation met
neighbour and grey dog
on the church steps
then my purple friend
who joined me and my dog
we did the whole walk
together we spoke about grief
and how to smell and taste it
she needed a hug after
clearing a wardrobe
touching his jacket she
talked about an acrylics
course painting streaks
of purple on a skyline
how her tutor said
there’s never really grey
in the sky only shades of blue
back down the hill clouds
had the sun behind them
layering the view

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The slow and silent type

I’m determined that, in 2025, this will not become the ‘Jamie’s health’ blog – I wasted far too much of your time and mine talking about that topic in 2024, usually in excessively melodramatic style. I do owe you one last update, though; as a wise man once said, ‘people who live in glass houses have to answer the door’.

It’s now confirmed that the ‘eye thing’ was just one symptom of a broader, long-term fatigue condition, which started at the beginning of June – either a truly epic, apocalyptic case of burnout, or plain old chronic fatigue syndrome. Either way, I am scheduled to get some proper help in the coming months, and I have a new, very forgiving schedule in place that’s helping me stay functional.

In light of this, my new year’s resolution was ‘to do and say less’, which I hope you will interpret as I intend – in a ‘zen’ sense, seeking depth and balance, prioritising quality over quantity – rather than as a commitment to hide away from the world (although I might do a bit of that too!) I admit these goals do slightly conflict with my responsibilities as blogger, but I have three more posts by ‘guest stars’ lined up, so hopefully they will keep you occupied throughout February – then, perhaps I can commit to monthly updates? That’s only ten posts, if we start in March!

Back in the autumn, I had an idea to produce some audio content, and even did a few practice runs, but the sound of me sitting here awkwardly talking to myself (‘er… so I’ve been working on… um…’) seemed like thin gruel for all you loyal subscribers. The thought of bringing guests into the picture, with all the logistics and preparation that involves, is completely out of the question for the time being. My great friend and colleague, Lindsey, has just started a podcast interviewing artists, and it appears to be a truly all-consuming activity if you want to do it well.

So, my agenda for 2025 is as follows:

• write ten vaguely interesting blog posts

• publish twenty-four great books

• spend lots of quality time with my son

… and that’s it, absolutely everything else needs to take a back seat for now. It still feels like an extremely full plate!

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Coming distractions

Last month, I posted a complete list of our forthcoming publications – though I didn’t send it out via email, as it’s just a simple list of authors, titles and genres at the moment, in the order I intend to work on them. The most conspicuous missing detail is any release dates; though as mentioned above, I would love (and fully intend) to publish all twenty-four of them this year.

Last year I managed just fourteen new titles, and missed almost every deadline I set, usually by months. This was partly due to the health issues I described above, but also because running a small press is inherently unpredictable; surprises happen almost every week, disasters and opportunities in equal measure, and when you’re the only person ‘on deck’, you have no choice but to set aside the more tangible, schedulable work of publishing and respond. Even the seemingly predictable challenge of editing or typesetting a certain number of words can be easily expanded or derailed, particularly if more than two stakeholders are involved.

I hope to remedy that this year by outsourcing more of the processes – I’m only planning to edit the five shortest titles myself, for example – but also by not setting release dates until each book is almost finished. This is going to be tough, as authors love deadlines and predictability, and hate waiting around; there’s also a belief that publicity is impossible without a date to work towards. That’s entirely mistaken in my opinion; far better to get your book to an advanced state, almost ready to print – then look at the appropriate reviewers, prizes, press opportunities and festivals, find out their deadlines, and match your schedule to those. Setting release dates too early does nothing but harm, both to the quality of the product – as any kind of rushed printing reduces our options – and to the opportunities for promotion.

That being said, I do intend to deliver the next three books, anthologies in collaboration with

Northern Gravy

, by the end of March; so the next time I speak to you they are likely to be high on the agenda. But who knows how high? Who knows what life, and publishing, really have in store for any of us in 2025? Expect the unexpected, I guess – and as always, thank you for reading.