Sketches: Melchior A La Carte

One more for now. Sometimes, my ideas are not quite so fully formed, and I'll do two or three (or more!) thumbnail sketches to sort out ideas, on how and where type and photos or illustrations might be placed...

My original idea, to compensate for the lack of color images (and for the poor quality of many of the black-and white photographs) was to apply a subtle, but different color treatment to each of them.

But that didn't seem to go over as well as I'd hoped with the author, so I went in a different direction, one that was more simple and bold, based on a suggestion of his.


Now I think I ought to get back to work...

Sketches: Just When You Thought It Was Safe

For another book, this one on the series JAWS films, I wanted to try something unusual and fun with the design. But there are certain limitations: the interior pages are in black-and-white, and everything must fit within specific margins, rather than reaching to the edge of the page. I did a series of thumbnail sketches for the chapter break pages, some of which you'll see below...

Having settled on an idea that I thought could work, I put together a sample page to see how it might look in print. But I had lingering doubts about the legibility of the text, and how the various shades of grey might reproduce on press. In the end, I decided to avoid those questions entirely by staying in black and white (and starting the text on a following page).





You might have noticed that the shark rises slowly toward the top of the page as the book progresses — which is, of course, meant to evoke that iconic image from the cover of the book and poster of the film. I'm not sure how obvious this will be to someone reading the book (most of these pages will be 50-60 pages apart, after all), but I thought it would be amusing, just the same.

From there, the direction I wanted to take with the cover seemed obvious, though I still did a quick sketch to distill my ideas for the back cover...

And this was the result.

Sketches: My Magic Carpet Of Films

I prefer to put pen to paper for my design concepts, before I sit down in front of my computer. There are virtually endless possibilities in digital design — but I find it helpful to focus a bit, narrow down my ideas, and sort of block out the shapes and forms, to avoid spending too much time wandering off down dead ends. I suppose this a habit that remains from having spent time in the world before digital design, where waxed galleys of type and photostats of images were pasted up on ruled boards over a light table, and it all seemed so much more labor-intensive, somehow.

Sometimes, I'll go into the process with a very clear and well-defined idea of what I want to do. Here's a sketch I started with on Sunday...

You probably won't be able to read the notes I've scribbled on the side — those are the colors I wanted to use (red, brown, gold, black, yellow), for the sort of flavor I felt the cover should have. This was the end result, several hours later...

It wasn't exactly as I had planned (I really didn't have any real concept of the back cover, so I went off in a different direction, and I chose slightly different photos for the front) but the structure and color treatment remain more or less the same.

(By the way, that "FPO" over the UPC code is short for For Position Only, as the information in that box was placed there temporarily.)

Why I Love Pre-Code Hollywood

As I write this, I'm watching a favorite film — The Purchase Price, from 1932, directed by William Wellman.

How's this for a plot: nightclub singer Joan Gordon (played by Barbara Stanwyck) breaks off her relationship with a married gangster in order to marry a man from a good family ― only to discover that the family has had her investigated and has discovered her dubious associations. Her hopes dashed, she flees to Montreal, with the gangster in pursuit. Seeking escape, when she learns that the hotel maid has used her picture to meet a man through a matrimonial service, Joan decides to take her place. She travels to North Dakota and marries a farmer (played by George Brent) she's never met, and must build a relationship with him while they face the hardships and difficulties of farm life.

And that's just to set up the story ― all of this seems to take place in the first ten minutes or so, and the film carries along at a brisk pace (as is the case with many films from this era), at just over an hour long. (You can watch the trailer for The Purchase Price here.)

If that sounds like an unusual premise, it's positively tame by comparison to another Barbara Stanwyck film ― Baby Face, released the following year. In it, she plays a woman who uses sex to entrap and control men as she climbs out of poverty to a penthouse apartment. Believe me, it's every bit as provocative as it sounds ― you can imagine how it might have been received in 1933. (You can see the trailer here.)

Baby Face was rejected by the New York State Censorship Board, which resulted in several of the film's more suggestive scenes being cut before release (along with, oddly enough, a reference to Nietzschean philosophy ― and the suggestion that Stanwyck's character go to the city and use what's she got to get what she wants!). The original, unedited version was presumed lost, until a print was discovered in 2004. (The story of that unexpected discovery, and brief audio clips that demonstrate the sort of changes that had to be made to satisfy the censorship board, can be heard here.)

I'm completely, hopelessly in love with the Barbara Stanwyck of this era. Someone once wrote that "she had that wonderful, undefinable combination of plainness bordering on homeliness and an almost feral sexuality." Sigh.

Unused

This was from the back cover of a book I designed on the film The Fly. The author was keen on having actor David Hedison's cooperation in promoting the book, but this was apparently a very difficult and arduous scene for him (anyone who has seen the film would recognize it immediately), one that left him with only unpleasant memories. The author thought it best not to remind him, so this was never used.

Monday

Monday has been cancelled. Abandon, reckless or otherwise, will have to wait for another day!

Breastfeeding

There's an interesting piece in The Atlantic this month about the relative merits of breastfeeding, which is commonly assumed to be more beneficial than evidence indicates.

I don't particularly care for the tone (it seems bitter and spiteful as an attempt at provocation), though that might be because I've never bought into the supposed politics of motherhood. (Yeah, I know. I'm not a mother.) Don't misunderstand me, I've no issue with breastfeeding — I'm sure the benefits are of a more intimate, less tangible sort — but I'm always curious to see popular wisdom debunked.

Self-Employment

I've been kept pleasantly busy this week, but only just — I think if I had tried to fit anything more into the past several days, it would have become tense and unpleasant.

Four books are in various states of completion, with two others that await my attention. One-and-a-half covers have been designed (was the other half done last week? Or the week before?), and I'll soon start on another (both halves). Several hours have been spent in research, with several more to come. Miscellaneous paperwork has been attended to.

I'm looking forward to the peace and quiet this weekend will provide, but only because this will allow me to be more productive.

The benefit of self-employment is also the complication of self-employment — I'm free to set my own schedule, but the barrier between work and everything else is flexible, often tenuous.

Limited Liability Corporation

You know, it's not as easy to dissolve a Limited Liability Corporation as I thought — twice now, I've submitted the application and fee, and twice now, it's been returned to me!

That first time, I had to make a best guess at the date that I had filed the original articles of organization. (I'm sure I have the paperwork here, somewhere, but I can't seem to find it.) The Department of State cheerfully provided the missing information when the application was returned — it turned out I had the month right, but the year wrong, and had forgotten the actual day completely.

This time, I have been informed that I also need to include the original name of the company (which is the same, just without the "LLC"). I'm not sure why this error wasn't pointed out when the application was first returned, but this must be what keeps the wheels of bureaucracy ever turning, albeit slowly.

So I'll try again. (Third time's the charm.)

Cereal

I've been terribly tempted to go to Target just for these: cereal boxes with out-of-date package designs! But I'm not all that fond of Trix or Cocoa Puffs, and that box for Lucky Charms seems disappointing, somehow. (I do, however, enjoy the simplicity of Kix, both package and product.)

Minneapolis

There's an interesting story from the New York Times here, about the unusual and alarming rates of more severe forms of autism among the children of the community of Somali immigrants in Minneapolis, Minnesota. (As if on cue, anti-vaccine activists have seized this opportunity to encourage suspicion and mistrust, though there is no more conclusive indication of vaccination as a cause in this instance than there has been on any other occasion. Sadly, these tactics appear to be succeeding, and many in the community are now resisting or delaying vaccinations, which could have terrible consequences in the long term — the article points out that families often return to Somalia, where measles remains a significant threat.)

I don't wish to seem unsympathetic, or even callous (remember, my own child has been diagnosed as autistic), but what I find especially interesting, even hopeful about this is that the opportunity to study this small community might yield some useful information in the long term. Perhaps not the discovery of a cause, but several steps closer to understanding.

More Books

I've discovered what might just be an ideal solution for keeping track of all of the books I've been meaning to read: Next Read. It's an application for the iPhone, designed for ― well, for keeping track of all of the books you've been meaning to read. This ought to be better than the scraps of paper, magazine clippings, and digital notes I've accumulated though the years.

Then again, it may be of no more use than the To Do list I have on my iPhone, which goes ignored for weeks at a time. (The organized method of Getting Things Done has never quite caught on with me ― it may be I'm just not a To Do list person.)

Of course, what would make Next Read even more useful is if it had a function similar to SnapTell, which can identify products from a photo. Or perhaps a method to read UPC codes. I seem to discover most of the books I want to read while I'm buying other books.

If only making it easier to add books to a list could make it easier for me to find the time to read them...

Interrupted

I remember the first time I spent the night with an old girlfriend — though she wasn't an old girlfriend then, of course — her father turned up at the house early the next morning for some reason or other. I remained quietly hidden upstairs, but it seemed to take forever for her to persuade him to leave.

I wonder if he noticed a strange pair of shoes?

Best not to leave the keys to your house with your parents.

Meminisse

I often collect reminders of the places I've been — it's a habit I just can't seem to give up. When I walk in the woods, or along the water, I'll pick up interesting and beautiful rocks, or shells, or acorn crowns, or pine cones, or whatever else catches my eye (and will fit in my pocket). Some of these collect on a shelf in my office, or in a small container in the recesses of my desk. Others remain hidden in coat pockets, to be rediscovered when the seasons change, because I really can't think of anything better to do with them.

I have several inches of purple ribbon in one of the pockets of a winter coat. It means absolutely nothing to anyone else but m — I'm not even sure I could explain why I've saved it. I also have a plastic egg of iridescent purple Silly Putty in that same pocket, along with a polished stone (I can no longer remember where it came from, or why I have it).

And there are letters and notes. Tickets. Bookmarks. Scraps of paper. Many of these seem to come to rest in my wallet.

I have a small yellow Post-It Note, with the handwriting of a friend. It's just the sort of memento I would compulsively save — yet I was surprised at my initial impulse to throw it away. It seems innocuous, and offers only the slightest hint of it's circumstances, though it would be far better if kept out of sight. In the end, I couldn't bring myself not to save it.

Almost.

My son almost went to school today. Almost. He'd been out of sorts over the weekend, but he was feeling better, and I did my best to encourage and persuade him that he ought to try. But ten minutes before the bus was due to pick him up, he put on a magnificent display of not feeling well. I probably shouldn't have let it pass, but I did.

I think every kid should have at least one "get-out-of-jail-free" pass for days like this, when you're not quite ill, but not quite well. (Maybe even two.) Don't you?

Predatory

One of my cats, always eager to steal through an open door whenever the opportunity presents itself, slipped out back as I was bringing food for the deer, who were (predictably) waiting for me. (This one never gets all that far, though, and reasonably is easy to catch.) To my surprise, he began to stalk the deer who were lingering just a few feet away! At first they were merely unsettled — though they quickly fled when he charged at them.

It was as though he somehow thought he was a much larger, more menacing animal — not just an average-sized house cat.

Exegesis

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.

— Blaise Pascal

Dilated

I had the good fortune to have drops to dilate my pupils on a day that was grey and overcast.

For the discriminating six-year-old's iPod...

When I bought my son an iPod Touch, it wasn't just for the movies, television shows and songs he enjoys watching and listening to — there were applications he had enjoyed playing with on my iPhone from time to time, and I knew he'd enjoy them on a device all his own.

Many of them are musical instruments of one form or another — a xylophone, for example, or a drum set. Even a rain stick. (Cat Piano might not qualify as an instrument if it didn't also have the function of a piano.) And I'm sure I've already mentioned Bloom.

My favorite applications encourage creativity. SpinArt is deceptively simple — perhaps it is just simple, but that's what makes it so much fun to play with. (I have it on my iPhone, as well.)

More Toast is just silly — you put toast (or bagels, or english muffins, or in the most recent version, waffles) in a toaster, and wait a moment for it to pop up. When it does, you apply your toppings of choice — or, make more toast! What could be better? My son adores it.

iBonsai is brilliant and elegant. With the tap of a finger, a small tree begins to grow, delicately rendered in the sumi-e style of Japanese brush painting. You can guide the tree as it grows, or allow it to develop at random. As it grows, the image can be rotated, and viewed from all angles. It is both enigmatic and relaxing.

It's difficult to explain the appeal of Tesla. I know why my six-year-old enjoys it, though I'm not entirely sure why I do. Touch the screen with one finger and nothing happens — use two fingers, and a surge of electricity crackles between them. You cannot resist.

There's really no point to Jiggle Balls, either. It's just fun to play with.

On the other hand, I imagine Chirp! will be put to much good use as the weather becomes warmer. It features photos and sounds of common backyard birds, and can use the built-in location functions of the iPhone to show you the birds of your geographical location. We need never wonder about the call of the Yellow-rumped Warbler again.

And for no particular reason — Service Bell. It says what it does!

Most of these applications cost no more than 99 cents — many were free. And each week it seems there's something new, something I just know he'll have fun with.

Wordplay

My six-year-old was eating a cup of mandarin orange sections. As he twirled his fork in the air, idly, I asked him, "What would you have if that fell on the floor?"

"A floorange!" he cheerfully replied, without so much as a moment's pause.

I'm not at all surprised that he has my sense of humor, but I thought I'd have at least few more years before he was so quick-witted.

Fawn

I'd been out this morning, wandering. (Even straying, you might say.) When I peered over my computer just now, to look through my office window, I saw an adorable little fawn, the smallest of the deer who regularly visit the backyard (one so small I've been concerned that she might not survive the cold winter months) looking back at me, expectantly. (At first, I thought she might be alone, but I soon discovered her mother and several others relaxing, hidden among the dry leaves that remain from autumn.)

It's easy, far too easy to anthropomorphise such behavior — but the deer have seen me emerge from the back door often enough that many now peer in to look for me when food has not been left.

Business

I've enjoyed building my own publishing business. I've worked hard to bring books back into print that I felt were especially deserving, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished. And the experience stretched my mind in new and unexpected ways. (Business development, expenditures, forecasts — all that stuff looks impressive on a resume, for whatever it's worth. I even researched and wrote my own contracts. Or part of them, anyway.) It's been great fun.

I didn't even much mind what many people would, I'm sure, consider to be the onerous day-to-day responsibilities — paying the bills, balancing the books, and the like. As far as I was concerned, it was all good. (I'm still trying to sort out my accounting software, though.)

But over the past several years, as business interests have had to be put aside (for reasons too complex to explain), I've had less time for it, and a good deal less interest. It seems as though it's taken weeks to get the necessary paperwork together to have my taxes prepared. I've been putting off royalty statements that should have been sent out at the beginning of the year.

Not too long ago, I submitted the paperwork to officially dissolve the LLC (Limited Liability Corporation) I had formed some five years before. (This isn't a formal end to the business, just a change to the legal status.) I should have done this years ago — the only reason I took this step was the hope that I would be able to borrow money to invest in further publishing projects without putting personal assets at risk, but that never quite worked out. (If only I had known I'd I have to pay a very large fee for the privilege the following year.)

I wish my business had been more successful, more self-sustaining than it has been. I'd do it all over again given half the chance. Perhaps one day.

Slow

Some projects seem to move much more quickly than others, the work so captivating that I'll lose all track of time. The book I've been working on today, however, was not one of them. It was a struggle, an uphill climb to finish.

It's ironic, really. This was an unusually simple book (a collection of fiction, with annotations by the author), with only a few illustrations. But the illustrations were virtually all of very poor quality, beset with scratches and damage, and there wasn't much I could do to improve them. This exhausted whatever enthusiasm I might have had, and I found myself eager for even the slightest distraction.

I'm Confused

What time is it, really?

Books to look out for tomorrow (or any other day)

A good friend introduced me to Griffin & Sabine not too long ago, and to a word I'd somehow never come across before: epistolary, essentially a story told through a series of correspondence. I'd rather not say more, as this is a book best read rather than read about — but it is delightful and enchanting, and I've been meaning to look for the two books that followed...

Library Books

I love Library Book Sales. I love that element of unpredictability, the sense that, while you might find that book you've been meaning to read, you're more likely to find a fascinating book (or several fascinating books) you've never, ever heard of.

According to one estimate, approximately 80,000 books will be on sale at the one I'll attend tomorrow — all priced below $2.00! The odds are undoubtedly in my favor.

Happy Birthday!

It's Guy Kibbee's birthday today!

Eyes

I never seem to make things easy for optometrists. (Perhaps this is because I see the world as ever-so-slightly out of focus.)

Remember that part of the exam where they'll try a series of different combinations of lenses to determine which improves your vision, changing them in small steps and asking which is better? I almost never give an unqualified response. ("That might be better, but not so much that it makes a difference.") I'm sure a simple, definitive answer would be more useful, but I just can't manage it.

Even then, I'll have them switch back and forth between the two choices at least once more — sometimes twice — so I can be sure. The degree of difference often just seems too slight.

I once had an experience, it must have been more than ten years ago, where a new pair of glasses just didn't seem right, somehow. The optometrist agreed to examine me again (it turned out the prescription he had written wasn't properly followed), but the inability to correct my vision to 20/20 became a sort of challenge. This led to a weeks-long series of different tests with all kinds of interesting equipment, and to my pupils being dilated with drops so that he could examine my eyes more closely. They were in fine health — though It's been so many years that I have no recollection how that was ever resolved. (He might have just given up.)

Another optometrist was left bewildered this afternoon, unable to correct my vision to 20/20. I probably should have told her that I hadn't been getting enough sleep this week — instead, I agreed to come back in a week for another examination (and to have my pupils dilated).

Nor'easter

One last snow day! The six-year-old within is excited, while the adult in me is anxious about the work that I had wanted to attend to today — and excited!

Sunday

The day's penny was spent much more frivolously than I had expected, but I did learn one thing — Key Lime was not a good choice for a soda flavor.