Over at his newsletter, a swimming pool library, PRONK’s publisher reflects on a year of publishing (and what comes next):
It’s been a little over a year since the first launch, in Cape Town, of the Artist Edition of my novel, The President – a hand-made kettle-stitched beauty that comes with a Brett Murray print and is raising funds for the Pride Shelter Trust.
I published The President because I thought it was a good enough story to share with the world, and because I wanted it to make some small contribution for good (so far, we’ve donated ZAR21,000 to the Pride Shelter). But/and also because I wanted to learn publishing by doing it.
For a very long time, my dream of being a publisher seemed like a pie-in-the-sky fantasy, an ambition always deferred beyond the horizon of the possible or probable. But, reading Amelia Greenhall’s Notes on Artist Publishing, attending art book fairs and zine fests, and interviewing publishers all nourished my sense of what is feasible, showing me the barriers to entering publishing were a lot lower than I thought, showing me I should just get on and do it! [Nick Mulgrew, the plucky visionary and blisteringly talented polymath behind uHlanga Press and Batis Books has very much been a print/publishing lodestar, too.]
And so The President – as the first title from my new little press, PRONK – has also been a pilot project, a trial run, a way of learning, iterating, making mistakes (and the occasional break-through) so that I’m better equipped when the time comes for PRONK to publish the work of others. I’ve come a long way in the last 12 months, though I know there is still much to learn.
As a nascent publisher, I’m interested both in creating beautiful, covetable, collectable books AND in making books that are affordable and widely accessible. (I’m also interested in the overlap between these two: in making affordable, beautiful books.) These divergent impulses meant that in addition to a second collectable limited-run edition of The President (the super-cute pocket hardback version that is currently only available from The Common Press in London), I’ve also released two “standard editions” of the novel that are much easier to get hold of in case you haven’t yet read it or would like to give a copy as a gift.
The Standard Editions
Paperback
The President is now available in paperback (ISBN: 9781967449033) from indie bookstores in the United States, as well as the usual online suspects (Bookshop.org, Tertulia, Barnes & Noble and the Oligarchical Goliath That Shalt Not Be Named et al.).
Elsewhere around the world:
- AUSTRALIA: You can purchase it online from retailers including The Nile, Abbey’s and Booktopia
- CANADA: Available from Amazon.ca
- INDIA: Available from Amazon.in
- SOUTH AMERICA: From online retailer Busca Libre
Next month, a new paperback edition for the South African market will be launching in June 2026 (ISBN: 9781049284132). Distributed by Bridge Books/Protea Boekehuis, it’ll be available for purchase from most South African bookstores. And, unlike the international paperback, IT HAS FRENCH FLAPS!
Ebook
You can buy the ebook version (ISBN: 9781967449026) from your preferred e-reading platform from just about anywhere in the world (just search for “Xander Beattie, The President”).
If you’re in the USA and your public library uses Hoopla to lend out digital materials, you can borrow the ebook using that.
What comes next?
My publishing ambitions are not so delusional that I’m aiming for PRONK to gain Penguin-sized market share or Bezos-level wealth. Instead, my hope is that publishing will be a creative practice, a craft – one that is financially sustainable (in other words, costs are covered). One that brings – in collaboration with others – things of beauty, meaning and worth into the world.
I want to publish books, sure, but also smaller, less ambitious, less time-hungry, resource-intensive things. Zines, pamphlets, broadsides and perhaps even the occasional poster. These might be riskier, more experimental – but also lower-stakes. An opportunity for low-cost, high-reward play and collaboration.
The new container for these publishing experiments I’ve christened Dik-Dik Editions. The imprint is named after a petite African antelope and I’m describing it as PRONK’s “publishing laboratory”. A container for more ink-stained “learning by doing”.
