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Another is here.

The Circus

Sketches: What If They Lived?

You know, I did the series of thumbnail sketches for this book so long ago (this scan is from late May), that I have only a dim memory of my thought process at that time. But I think the idea of a book title as a question is tremendously appealing, in that it lends itself to the (obvious) element of the question mark. (And there are some very attractive question marks, typographically speaking.) So I did several variations on that approach, along with some slightly more conservative stuff, you know, just in case.

I'll bet I suggested my favorite was the one in the top right corner, because that was what we went with.

When the time came to put together a more formal version of the cover (this time, in late September), I really had only the title to work with, so I put in placeholder text ("Blah blah blah blah") for the rest of the elements. The large question mark was set in Clarendon, at a slight angle to fit the space better. I tried a version with all of the type set in Clarendon, but decided on Bodoni, instead, because I wanted to use the variety of different weights.


I really like that white version of the cover (on the left) — I like white covers, because they seem to be more rare — but I felt that the question mark held together better with the period when the top was white, to match the predominant color of the photo. I mean, yeah, I suppose it works just as well with the black of the photo defining the round edge of the period (and if I keep looking at it, I'll probably change my mind!), but I chose to go with the black version.

Here's the finished cover, which I put together just this morning. I resisted adding lots of color for it's own sake, because I think this design works best in very simple black-and-white — but I also didn't want the cover to look as though it were unfinished. I've introduced a small amount of blue (I tried a few other colors, including red, though that somehow seemed too gory for the subject matter), but I've kept the title in white, because it's important that it be linked with the question mark. And because I like it like that.

The Six-and-a-Half-Hour Bookblock

I did a 400-page bookblock today — 400 pages! —designed it, put it together, adjusted the design a bit, then adjusted the design a bit more, all in a day's work. (Out of deference to the author and publisher, the title of the book will not be disclosed.) Mind you, it had no photos (which is unusual) and it was fairly easy to format — but it was still a labor-intensive process, and it's been a very long day.

Cathedral

My eight-year-old built this. (Actually, this is the second time he built this, or something like it — the first time, it was accidentally destroyed by a clumsy friend before I had the chance to take a picture of it.) He proudly announced to me that this was a cathedral, but that it was not like any other cathedral, and that all the people who don't believe in God come to it. (He went on to describe that the roof opens up for weapons to be pointed at the sky, presumably in the direction of God).

We had been watching "Building The Great Cathedrals" on NOVA not long before this. It's obviously sparked his imagination. He has the general sense of a cathedral as a church, as a place of worship — but I'm still not sure what inspired him to create one for such contrary reasons. I was puzzling over this with a friend, not too long ago, and she gave me a sort of you're-missing-the-obvious look — that had to have come from his parents, of course. But I'm really not so sure.

I tend to keep my opinions on religion mostly to myself, particularly around my son, because I'd like to think of that as a decision he ought to be allowed to come to on his own (and I think eight years old might be too soon to arrive at it). That said, though, as a family, we're not antagonistic to religion, but it's obvious we don't embrace it. The most practical contact he's had with religion has been to admire an old stone church from the outside.

I very gently tried to get him to elaborate a bit on why someone would want to build a cathedral for this purpose, but his interest in the conversation trailed off, and he began to describe a symbol he had built, trying to make the complicated shape with his fingers.

I try to encourage him to understand that not everyone will think or do or believe what he does, and that a certain amount of understanding of those differences (and either tolerating them, or failing that, just keeping quiet) goes a long, long way.

Maybe that's just the nature of eight years old — to be contrary.

Just Blue