who served as a freelance reader for Macmillan. Latham had tremendous confidence in Everettâs judgment and wanted a second opinion on Mitchellâs manuscript with a particular focus on what she needed to do to complete it. 54
By July 1935, Mitchell had still not heard back from Latham with his final verdict on whether her story was worth publishing. And, apparently, Cole had followed Lathamâs instructions about not letting the author know of her involvement. After almost three months of no news, Mitchell began to get antsy. She had been mulling over the plot since Latham left Atlanta and wanted to finish the book once and for all. But, because he had the manuscript there was not much she could do. 55 She tried working from memory and with the duplicate chapters she did have but found it impossible. On July 9, she wrote Latham explaining the situation and asking him to return the manuscript. She acknowledged this was a crazy thing for an aspiring author to do but said she could not restrain herself.
Reading perhaps a little too much between the lines, Latham worried that Mitchell wanted the pages back so she could show them to other publishers. He had no intention of letting that happen. 56 The editor replied on July 15, apologizing for the delay in getting back to her. He assured her he remained keenly interested in the book. He thought it had every chance of becoming a considerable success and hoped she would be patient a little longer. 57
That same week, Latham received Everettâs assessment of the manuscript. It was an even more glowing review than Coleâs. The professor thought the book âmagnificentâ and âbreath-taking,â and praised the authorâs control of the plotâs tempo. 58 He recommended Macmillan offer Mitchell a contract immediately and predicted the novel would likely be a bestseller. 59 Despite its rough appearance, the manuscript needed little work before it would be publishable. Everett suggested Mitchell bridge a few gaps in the plot and tone down what he saw as negativity toward Reconstruction. Like Cole, he thought the ending needed to be reworked. However, he took a different approach and recommended pulling Pansy away from the brink of certain doom by leaving open the possibility that Rhett might return someday. Finally, Everett offered a title for the as-yet-unnamed book: âAnother Day.â 60
With Coleâs and Everettâs ringing endorsementsâand having read it himself with great enthusiasmâLatham prepared to convince his boss, Macmillan president George P. Brett, Jr., to buy Mitchellâs manuscript. Brett had recently taken over the reins of Macmillan from his father, George P. Brett, who still sat on the firmâs board. The dynamic between the younger Brett and Latham was an interesting one. Brett had no formal education beyond high school and had joined the firm in 1919 after serving in the U.S. Army in France. 61 He and his younger brother, Richard, the companyâs treasurer, worked their way up the ranks under their fatherâs tutelage. By contrast, Latham had joined the firm after graduating from Columbia University in 1909 and had climbed the ladder on his own. Although there was a mere six-year age difference between him and Brett, they might as well have been father and son. Brett played the role of young and impulsive leader to Lathamâs refined elder statesman. 62
Latham approached Brett and the firmâs editorial council on July 17, 1935, and suggested they offer Mitchell a publishing contract. Certain the book had great potential, the editor predicted Macmillan would make a terrible mistake not publishing it. He wanted to act quickly and stretched the truth to make that happen. Not only did he say that other publishers were after herâa faulty guess on his partâbut he also attempted to paint Mitchell as an established literary figure. Perhaps sensing that the council would be wary about
Janwillem van de Wetering