Huge congratulations to Kiran Desai for her book winning the Booker Prize. We were, of course, sad for Teddy St Aubyn but the judges had a really tough job and I'm sure, judging by her speech, that Ms Desai is a great person as well as a great writer. I'm off to India this morning and I have no doubt the country will be celebrating yet another national hero.

I should have known that this particular title would win when, earlier in the evening, I was asked whether Macmillan was committed to publishing literary books. I asked what is meant by a literary book. Apparently it is a work of fiction which loses money. It seemed rather an odd definition and I tried to argue that publishing companies tend to do a better job when they are solvent. In addition I'm not quite sure why literary publishing should deserve more support than, say, educational publishing in Zimbabwe. That said, of course we are committed to literary publishing and to the continued growth of Picador in all its markets - UK, USA, Australia, South Africa, India and most recently Asia. But I should not want to leave future publishers at Macmillan with an inheritance of loss whatever the definition of literature.

During the 1990s the foundations were laid for the terrific success of the Nature Publishing Group. The strategy was to launch the highest-quality 'sister' journals in subjects close to Nature's core expertise and audience. This resulted in many top life science journals being launched - Genetics, Medicine, Cell Biology etc. The group was begining to be seen purely as a life science publisher. This is changing and the recent launch of Nature Nanotechnology prompted me to ask Jason Wilde, its publisher, to describe what is happening in the Nature world of physical sciences.

What a difference a year makes

Over the past year Nature Publishing Group (NPG) has quadrupled its portfolio of physicals science journals by launching three new titles: Nature Chemical Biology, Nature Physics and Nature Nanotechnology. These launches came on the back of Nature Materials (our first physical science research journal) which was launched in 2002 and has become the number 1 research journal in the physical sciences.

The reason for these launches is simple; it is to ensure NPG is at the forefront of serving all of science including the physical science community. Ten years ago NPG expanded its program from just Nature to include 7 primary research journals in the biomedical and life sciences. These became essential titles for each of their fields and ensured that NPG was seen as a leading publisher in the life sciences.

Many people have forgotten that Nature is as strong in the physical sciences as it is in the life sciences publishing a number of firsts including: The discovery of X-Rays (1896); the development of the particle accelerator (1932) and the production of the first LASER (1960). More recently Nature has led the way publishing research on: the formation of C60 (1985); the first paper on electronic ink (1998) and only last year new research from INTEL on LASERs made from silicon.

The launch of Nature Materials, Nature Chemical Biology, Nature Physics, and Nature Nanotechnology ensures we continue this tradition and that NPG provides the physical science community with the same high quality journals that the life sciences have enjoyed for the past decade.

Not only have we launched new titles but we have also expanded our editorial operations to include Asia. The decision to have one of the editors for Nature Nanotechnology in Tokyo reflects the strengths of the Asia-Pacific region. Japan is second only to the US in terms of investment in nanotechnology research, and South Korea is ranked fifth in the world. China is also emerging as a force in nanotechnology and scientific research.

Going to Basingstoke for a series of forecasting and budget meetings, and catch-ups with a number of my colleagues. I remember once a dinner in Gaborone where the Botswanan politician next to me asked what I thought of his city. I said that it was hard to comment as I had just arrived having driven from Johannesburg. But what did you think of the architecture and in particular the ring road? Well, I said, I have to say that it reminds me of a town in England called Basingstoke. Yes, he said, precisely. We decided that Basingstoke was so excellent that we've tried to copy its layout and in particular its roundabouts. I was stunned.

Which is which?

If I get back in time from Basingstoke I'll have to don the penguin and trip off to the Guildhall for the annual Booker prize dinner ordeal. Fingers crossed for Edward St Aubyn. If every reader of this blog could wish him to win.... Essay on book prize dinners tomorrow, tenor dependent on result.

More than thirty years ago Macmillan instituted a scheme to attract the very best people from universities to the publishing industry. Today former graduate recruits hold some of the most senior positions in the company and dozens are working their way up. Some leave immediately when they decide publishing is not for them. Others use the scheme as a way of launching a career - e.g. Nigel Newton and Tim Hely Hutchinson - and going on to great things in the industry.

Kristin Annexstad joined us three weeks ago as one of the first of the 2006 intake. Here are her thoughts:

'After being frightened during my undergraduate days with bedtime stories of psychometric testing, in-tray exercises, and absurd scenarios during interviews, and even sitting through interviews designed to make me cry at some of the big boys in the city, the Macmillan applications process was unnervingly easy. During my Christmas holidays I decided that, despite my lack of an English literature background, I would investigate jobs in publishing, something I had considered for some time. I wasn't sure whether my social science background would be appropriate but decided my love of books must count for something. Trawling the internet I discovered Macmillan ran a graduate scheme. Could it be? Was there really an obvious entry into the industry? With five days to go before the deadline I gave it my best but wasn't wildly optimistic, although it was the most sunny and sincere cover letter I had ever written. About a month later I got a phone call asking me to come in for an interview. Fully expecting a battery of proofreading and intense grilling, I instead had a pleasant chat about publishing and books, and the obligatory "give us an example of a time when you..." I left feeling confident - too confident? Had I been too relaxed? Biting my nails, I convinced myself I had seemed arrogant and informal. I didn't hear from them for ages and assumed I was out, but about a month later I was asked to come and see the CEO. Preparing myself for a brutal interrogation I was kept standing in Richard Charkin's office for about ten minutes while he conducted an urgent phone call about a recent golf championship. Finally allowed to sit I was asked why in God's name I wanted to go into publishing, whether I had ever been to the Vietnamese restaurant in my neighbourhood, and abruptly was told I had the job. I wasn't really sure what had just happened but I was pleased. Of course I accepted the job, and turned up in September fresh-faced and bright-eyed, knowing only that I would be working with the Strategy Director, whatever that was. Apparently I was a Research Associate, which sounds very grand, but occasionally means someone who uses Google a lot and counts the number of books in a catalogue. It also means someone who writes reports which get sent to the CEO, which was not a little exciting. Unlike many of my classmates who started graduate schemes in the City I was given real tasks to begin with, and not busywork, which had been my fear. I wasn't quite wined and dined but lunch dates were set up for me with my predecessors and I am promised meetings with division bigwigs to help me figure out my next step, which is apparently decided not just by the powers that be but also based on my own interests and talents. I have even been promised a tour of the warehouse in Basingstoke, which has me feeling very much like Charlie before his trip to the Chocolate Factory. So what do I do all day, my friends ask. I can't talk about it, I say, after having had the fear of God put into me about confidentiality. I try to assure them that I have no delusions of grandeur but that since I work on The Top Floor it's all very hush-hush, don't you know. Finally I look around suspiciously, before tapping my nose and lowering my voice conspiratorially: "I write competitor reports and research the market. Sometimes I count books." But I am very smug that I have been given my own responsibilities, and despite this have never stayed much later than required. Perhaps I should be? I did stay later than the boss once evening last week, which had me feeling very superior. I made sure to email him what I had been working on so that he would know I had been there at 19:30. Unfortunately, in my excitement, I sent the wrong attachment. He was very nice about it though, so no tears shed by me yet. That may, of course, change, should I incur the wrath of RC, who occasionally comes out of his office wtih the sole purpose, seemingly, of intimidating me, or stumping me with obscure facts about the industry. But I am watching and learning, and planning my takeover bid.'

I'm going to take a chance and risk offending all sorts of book retailers by writing about the prize-winning booksellers, The Book People. The company was founded by Ted Smart and Seni Glaister in 1988. I remember the first time I met them when I was at Reed International Books and we had to decide whether to offer them credit terms. We did and I fixed a lunch for Ted and Paul Hamlyn. They got on like a house on fire. At that time a number of major publishers resisted supplying the Book People - concerns about credit-worthiness, impact on book club and trade sales etc. Ted and Seni proved their detractors wrong by consistently generating more sales into channels which had been underdeveloped. Their importance to the book trade (and to many readers who have been introduced to books buying habit) is illustrated by the dinners they host on every evening at Weideman's restaurant during the Frankfurt Book Fair. The guests are everyone with whom they deal on a day-to-day basis (specials sales managers etc) and the high and mighty of the industry who pay homage to Ted and Seni. I can't help thinking back to traditional publishers' attitudes to them in 1988 and I'm sure Ted and Seni do too.

I've managed to upset a very senior civil servant, John Dolan who works at the Museums, Libraries and Archives Council by criticising how the UK public library system is run. In a letter to the Bookseller he accuses me of distorting statistics. I'm not going to reply but this link has generated a lot of interesting debate. It seems to me that the underlying problem of library funding is that we're arguing about statistics and paying consultants to support a point of view rather than getting down to work to sort out what is rapidly becoming a national disgrace.

I leave my 33rd Frankfurt today. As usual, the logistics were impeccable. It's quite amazing how little goes wrong given the complexity, size and innate likelihood of Murphy's Law taking effect.

Business seemed pretty well in line with expectations. There were the usual number of non-events, non books of the fair, missed appointments, preening opportunities, job interviews, deals concluded or initiated, authors wandering about looking dazed and wondering why they were there, consultants, ex industry superstars prowling the aisles in search of just one more challenge. And then there are the parties and dinners and late night drinks in smokey (yes, people still smoke in Frankfurt) and crowded bars. The slightly (or hugely) jaded people at breakfast the following morning. The perpetual discussions about stand design and cost. But every year we come back for more. We are a strange industry.

If you're feeling up to it and want a framework in which to think about the changes in publishing today check out this article on Thomas Kuhn. The word 'paradigm' has been debased by over- and inaccurate use but I believe we are seeing the 'normal' way of publishing being challenged from many directions and we are finding it hard to address the issues with our current structures and understandings. We are undergoing a paradigm shift which is what makes our industry so interesting right now. I'm not sure how far we are in developing a new 'theory' to replace the old but I supect we need to find it fast or suffer some harsh consequences.

Have a good weekend.

Postscript on Frankfurt 2006. Not mentioned in any of the statistics issued about the fair (numbers of visitors, deal done, awards granted, parties enjoyed etc) was one significant fact. There is only one postbox in the whole enormous complex. Ten years ago there would have been at least twenty.

Answer: Nature.  Why, you ask?  At the UK Association of Online Publishers awards last night, Nature’s Avian flu Google Earth mashup  won in its category, Best Use of New Digital Platform.

Other winners on the night were mostly from seriously large scale operations, such as the BBC’s Top Gear (Jeremy Clarkson) and The Sun’s bingo site (Rupert Murdoch).

For those of you wondering what on Google Earth a mashup is, it involves one set of data being put into a format that wasn't designed for it.  So, in this case, Nature enables you to obtain information about avian flu by scrolling the various locations of the outbreaks on Google Earth.

The judges singled it out as “perfectly demonstrating the intersection of content and technology” – which is no more than its due. It really is a remarkable resource, and has been noted as such by researchers in the field.

Congratulations to the team involved: Oliver Morton, Angela Bird, Arran Flood and Alex Thurrell, and particularly to Declan Butler, who conceived and produced the mashup.

Further congratulations are in order for Robin Robertson, one of Picador's list of award winning poets (and an ex-colleague of mine from Secker in the olden days of Michelin House ), whose collection Swithering won the Forward Prize for poetry on Wednesday night.

A few months we had a debate here as to whether I should allow Google ads to appear. Those who disapproved told me so. Those who couldn't care less didn't. I decided to let the ads run a bit just to see what happened. I can now report that we've earned a princely $30 from people clicking through - but Google keep the money until we pass $100. They have however forwarded us 40 pence just to check that the system works and I am very proud of this first fruit of a new income stream for Macmillan. The ads rotate but yesterday one in particular caught my eye:

“Buy Macmillan Publishing, Full Range available now online: fast, reliable, secure."

As a colleague remarked, The only thing that matters in publicity is that they spell your name right (which remarkably they have) but are we really fast, reliable and secure?

http://www.auravita.com/ is where to go if you're really interested. These guys could put the investment banks out of business if they succeed in selling us!

For those who have had the honour of never attending the Frankfurt Book Fair it's hard to describe the enormity of the experience. Probably the most worrying statistic is that there are more than 10,000 journalists reporting on the fair - and there really is very little news to report so far. I guess they'll just have to make something up as usual.

There is suprisingly little technology in the main hall and I have had to beg the use of a terminal to write this from the wonderful Thomson team. On the other hand the amount of hot air is at normal levels.

The Macmillan team is assembling. One delay so far where a guinea fowl ran into the engine of a jet leaving Zimbabwe thus delaying our key director's arrival. One other logistical nightmare unfolding is our need to supply large quantities of books for Kurdistani primary schools. Our plans were initially wrecked by the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, made worse by the row between the Turks and the Kurds and finally delayed by the start of Ramadan.

One issue which doesn't seem to be going away is the price differential between US and UK editions of college textbooks. Because of the very high used-book market in the USA publishers need to build in to the price the decline in sales over the life of an edition. The used-book issue in the UK is less severe (although growing at a frightening rate helped on by traders on ebay) and thus prices have been kept down. This disparity will have to close if we are not to see significant international arbitrage and the resulting diminution of authors' royalties. Yet another challenge for our industry to resolve.