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That's a story that I wanted to get in here; but anyway, continue with Irwin Shaw.

Lazar walked in one day, obviously uncomfortable even for him. It takes a lot to embarrass him. We had this book of Shaw short stories; and after we had announced it, Irwin decided suddenly that one of the stories could be expanded into a short novel. We were not very enthusiastic about this project because it was a good enough short story--not memorable but certainly above average--but padded out to make a novel it didn't stand up. Irwin had complained that we didn't seem very enthusiastic, and he was right. But, as I say, it had already been corrected and proof-read, and Nan Talese, one of our best editors, had gone over it with Irwin, who had come over from Paris for publication. Now Lazar came in and said that Dell had made Irwin a fantastic offer for three books--the so-called novel, the remaining book of short stories, and a big novel which he has talked about writing for the last ten years and hasn't started yet. Lazar said, “Of course if you will match this offer, Irwin will be happy; but if you won't, he knows that you will be decent enough to release him from his contract.”

I hit the roof. First of all, Irwin, after all of these years in close friendship, didn't come in himself but sent Lazar to do his dirty work. Second, it was a palpably dishonest thing to do. The book, as I say, had been corrected already, and sold to the trade.