April 22nd, 2012
It never ceases to amaze me just how far afield I get from my usual thinking when I’m not overwhelmed by work. Anyone who knows me through this blog or otherwise online, or anyone who simply knows how much I love my part of making books, is probably also aware how when my plate is not overflowing with work(s) in progress, I tend to get edgy, fidgety, antsy, squirrelly—whatever you want to use to refer to the uneasiness I feel when there’s not so much work that it owns me.
For instance, tho’ it wasn’t the reason I began this piece for the blog, in using the word “antsy” in the paragraph above, I reminded myself that I know someone who uses a (I assume) made-up version of the word, yantsy, to mean essentially what “antsy” does. And that led me to look it up in the dictionary—of course, it’s not there—where I found myself lost and wandering for a few minutes.
One of the things I found myself overly interested in, after I finished the work aspect that drew me there was the variety of spine styles—and then the strip options within each style—offered by the printer of one of the two book projects I’m currently working on. I mean, I have worked on both hardcover and paperback books. But I had never gotten overly involved in the details of the printing of any of “my” books.
On this particular book, the publisher is a small city in Texas. The book relates to their centennial and my contact person there is not someone with publishing experience. So I’ve been talking to the printer with some regularity and been involved in decisions on the binding of both a paperback and a hardcover edition of this book. (And it sounds like I’ll begin exploring creating an e-edition of this one, too.)
But I honestly don’t know that I would have continued to explore the subject as far as I have if I were not coming to the end of the two current book projects and I were busier than I am.
Entry Filed under: binding