Another Anniversary Approaches

12 comments September 24th, 2009

The twenty year mark from when I bought my first Macintosh computer in November of 1989, a IIx, approaches. Before that, from 1985 on, I had been an Apple Computer fan, but I belonged to the family of Apple II users—at first on a IIe and then a IIgs. At that point all I knew was that computers fascinated me, I wanted a personal computer of my own, and I desperately wanted to do something using computers.

Initially, I thought I might learn to program. I fancied the idea that I could imagine and then create some cool program that would be marketable and earn me a living. But gradually it dawned on me that—to borrow from the writer’s canon—I should do something I knew. That led me to thinking about books and publishing. I had been a copy editor and proofreader for some years before and enjoyed a fair idea of how words on the printed page ought to look.

Coincidentally, a friend from my civil service day career, showed me something he had printed on an ImageWriter II dot matrix printer from his Mac Plus. He got remarkably better-looking type than I did from the same printer on my Apple IIgs. My print looked, well … like what it was: dot matrix print. His, thanks to the miracle of Postscript and the Macintosh OS looked very, very nice.

So I got myself the Macintosh IIx, LaserWriter IInt, and began to play with some garage-sale software—Microsoft Word, Excel, and PageMaker. For Christmas that year, I treated myself to full versions of QuarkXPress, Adobe Illustrator and PageMaker, and Adobe Garamond and Futura typeface families. This was before I discovered mail-order software houses and their discounted prices; consequently, I paid noticeably more than necessary.

It took three years before I actually got my first book to lay out. Still more time passed before I jumped from production to design. Now I prefer to lay out books that I design—covers and interiors—so that the vision of a book’s appearance that I execute is my own.

And in all the years since, as my tools and skills improved, a handful of constants grew clear to me.

First, the book designer and the layout artist have one job: to bring the author’s words and any pictures to the reader. Anything else is gravy for the designer, maybe unnecessary, and sometimes a distraction that proves the designer incompetent—no matter how great the book looks.

I often wonder whether anyone can argue this point. Is there a book designer who believes that a book becomes about the designer and less the author once the design process begins.

Next, at least half the occupation of the freelance book designer/layout artist is finding that next paying project.

Does anyone know a way around this? I mean, besides becoming a Chip Kidd or David Carson.

Finally, there is always one more great and interesting book—perhaps saying new things, more likely revisiting things I learned previously and read before—that I will enjoy leafing through and reading.

Anyone who read this blog before my site and everything else was hacked into, costing me my archive—so far—knows the books I rave about: Bringhurst, Hochuli/Kinross, Hendel, and the rest. Anyone name a book I have never mentioned?

* * *

Here’s the thing: I obviously jumped the gun with this 20^th anniversary thing. Mostly because I want to get my readership back. So I am giving away my copy of Andrew Haslam’s Bookdesign, a book that can be something of a textbook about making books or a source of inspiration when starting out on a book design and not having an idea with which to begin.

All you need to do is comment on this blog, or answer one of the questions above, or ask one of your own, from now through Halloween. Around November 1 I will pick someone from the commenters/answererers/askers and send him or her the book. (First I’ll contact the winner for his or her address.)

A mirror image of my desktop now

What I’ve Learned About Marketing, So Far

Add comment June 15th, 2009

I cannot say it enough times: Fully half of a freelancer’s work is finding work. At least before one has enough work to be self-sufficient or, at least, satisfied with the activity level. If you’re me, the next question would be, So when are you satisfied enough that you stop looking for work, stop marketing yourself?

The answer, only coincidentally cribbed from an old New Yorker cartoon, is: “How about never?”

Originally, going back seventeen years now, I did not have an Internet connection. I pursued freelance work by poring through the classified ads in the Sunday newspapers—in my case that meant the New York Times and Newsday. Any ad that remotely mentioned graphic design and publishing, not advertising, I answered, making sure to mention that I was looking to freelance from my own studio. I got only the tiniest number of responses from this method, and an even tinier percentage resulted in interviews. In retrospect, I suppose the project of trekking into Manhattan from home on Long Island was more than an inconvenience, so it was a thrill to take my job search online.

As I have mentioned in this blog before, once I found the Internet my marketing efforts took the form of twice-yearly, cold emails to every publisher in the current year’s Writer’s Market. I alternated between attaching a compressed archive of work samples. I still go thru this process. It sometimes takes years before I get a response and the offer of a project. Parenthetically, that is the reason I periodically repeat this whole message recounting my history of promotion.

The last two years, I have also sent out postcards. After noticing that some people swear by direct mail, and with my own preference for email, I elect to do both. In fact, I just began sending the latest postcard out about three or four weeks ago, before taking a vacation trip. So far 125 postcards have been mailed. Two have been returned for bad addresses—out of 2009’s Writer’s Market.

Now, back from my trip, I’ll continue sending postcards out to the publishers on my list. And wait for the offers to pour in. (Here’s the point where a winking emoticon would be appropriate.)