“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He considered Prentice-Hall a further excellent step upward, a reputable-enough publisher. Tam as editor did not go for his first—or that is, Ruburt’s first presentation, however, but suggested the book that ended up as The Seth Material.

(Long pause at 9:07.) In many ways Tam and Ruburt got along quite well, even though Tam was a good deal younger, where before Ruburt’s editors had been people a good deal older than he. When the book was done Ruburt began another, along with several different attempts. Dreams, Astral Projection and ESP, I believe was to be the title. Ruburt signed for the book but had difficulty with his presentation, and it represented his indecisions, so Tam respectfully at first suggested large alterations.

Ruburt himself recognized the book’s deficiencies, and he and Tam together hit upon the idea of switching my book, Seth Speaks, which was not yet contracted for, instead of Dreams. (Long pause.) Ruburt was therefore impressed to the ears with the necessity of getting a book to market, and of the importance of a decent working relationship with an editor, particularly in the uncertainties of even usual free-lancing writing were taken into consideration.

Ruburt’s subject matter, however, was not routine, particularly back in those times. He felt that its unique nature meant that it could be quite difficult to sell. When he and Tam began to reach a relatively workable relationship, therefore, he began to value this more and more. He felt that in the beginning Tam stood up for him at Prentice several times. And Tam, it seemed, kept his hands away from the manuscript itself in the one way that Ruburt clearly understood: he did not generally change the copy. As the years went by Tam and Ruburt arrived at certain methods of operation that suited Ruburt personally, and that were understood by both of them.

(Long pause at 9:19.) These methods of operation involved certain evidences of play, some social chatter, mutual trust, and left open the doors to a certain kind of unpredictable pattern of development—a pattern in which, for example, Tam could recognize the latent book in the Emir dream, and help fire Ruburt to write it, even though eventually Prentice was not the publisher.

Now overall he wanted an attractive package, of course, yet to him the book was in the copy mainly. (Long pause.) The Bantam photograph covers did displease him, but in a fashion he did not expect any more from the mass paperback situation. For some time he felt competent then in those business dealings. He felt loyalty to Tam, who he felt was loyal to him. At the same time he did not idealize Tam, and was well aware of some of his natural failings.

Many of the typos, for example, did not exist for Ruburt. He valued the good feelings that existed between himself and Tam, and quite preferred for example not to deal with too many other people at Prentice, but to keep the situation as simple as possible. They settled many matters by hastily scribbled notes (pause), and by other methods that sometimes did not even seem to deal with the matter at hand.

(9:38.) He therefore became upset whenever there were difficulties in which you and Prentice disagreed, or you and he disagreed, and he became highly uneasy if you and Tam seemed to disagree. He began to feel less competent in his dealings. He began to feel somewhat humiliated that as a woman he needed his husband to take care of such matters, and he felt threatened not only by such circumstances, but of course by the changes going on at Prentice itself and by Tam’s own growing restlessness.

(Long pause.) The problem with the contracts and the entire translation affair bothered you both deeply. Ruburt felt at times that you were too severe on occasion in your dealings with Tam for a while. (Long pause.) The entire situation bothered him deeply. He valued the relationship with Prentice (long pause), and he valued the idea of distributing the books in foreign lands, even if that venture meant misunderstandings or quite deliberate translations such as the shortening of one book, feeling that Prentice, while negligent, was not deliberately negligent, and that the situation would be righted and the material restored.

That involved the deletion of copy, you see. He agreed with you thoroughly there. Though he did not agree about your opinion of Prentice per se, involving the difficulty, he blamed the foreign publisher. He felt, however, that some of your own anger against the foreign publisher was directed at Tam. Much of this involves simple differences in temperament. He did not deny the fact of your own visually acute behavior. He felt stupid when you became annoyed at typos or misspellings or whatever that he did not even perceive until you mentioned them. He felt between you and Prentice and Tam at various stages, of course, and did not feel certain of his old capacity to set the relationship right. He also began to distrust his own earlier methods of dealing with the situation.