So, I have finally submitted my book’s text to a freelance editor to start what is called a developmental edit combined with a copy edit. My impression is that this will combine general comments on content and style with language and other corrections. I look forward to receiving the end product and somewhat masochistically would prefer a lot of tracking to not very much.
At the same time I’ve commissioned a freelance designer (based in Italy) to start researching concepts for the book cover. We have discussed my feelings about this and she will try to capture them in some alternative designs. We hope to end up with an attractive proposition which will appeal to my target audience. I’ve hinted at possible titles and sub-headers previously.
Once I have a better idea of progress in these two key areas, hopefully by the end of June, I will be ready to start bringing things together with cleared images and final adjustments to text. The plan is still to publish electronically by end September latest. Hard copies are likely to be print-on-demand.
I have started to think about marketing and indeed my lovely teenage daughter has volunteered to help me with social media. This website is currently the main platform for information about the book, but when I fix a distribution contract I will benefit from whoever runs that, less their cut of any sales revenue – still not sure if I will go for the big players or try someone smaller, more niche, or just plain different.
A mental note is to think about a suitable launch date and venue from mid-October to end November during the Xmas lead up period. It’s likely to be in London and may well link to one of the structures in the book. But it would be good to surprise people …
What is your writing style?
Mine is to edit as I write which I suppose is the luxury of using word processors. Is there an electronic version of the typewriters I once started with, where you can only write and then cover your e-paper with handwritten scribblings?
The problem with the EAYW approach is that you can get bogged down in the minutiae of grammar, spelling, language and facts. This grinds free flowing creativity to a standstill.
Since my book is about engineering and architecture let’s try a building analogy.
If you build a new patio in your garden you have a big choice of finishes you can use: slabs, stones, bricks, concrete, gravel, timber etc. This will be influenced by aesthetics and maintenance.
But what matters before you can appreciate the end product is using the right type and amount of foundations. Without these your finished patio may look superficially great, but over time will lose its beauty and function. Too little support or drainage and slabs will tilt or sink …
Of course people are only going to remember the top layer. So no point perfecting the foundations and then covering them with a cheap finish.
Like many things in life it is about achieving the correct balance between form and function. People who build have always struggled with this and since their finishes are often viewed by many, they open themselves up to public critique as well as adulation.
Read more about this on the blog and eventually in the book.
This was the question I asked a friend recently about my draft text for the book I’m writing.
He has published himself, though not in my genre of historical non-fiction/biography/architecture. Nonetheless I was still interested in his answer.
He told me that for his first book he had written as much as he could and this had ended up at 70,000 words. However in retrospect for his next book he would be happy with just 30,000 words. What matters is quality and whether you have got your main messages across in the text you have written.
This all makes sense to me and I have reached a point where I kind of know how much more I’m going to write. The final amount will depend on a number of factors in my case:
– whether I fill in gaps in content or simply remove a topic
– how many images I include
– how many words I think my editor should be allowed to play with
– what feels just right to me
The last criterion is important as I’m writing the book for myself ultimately. I do want others to enjoy it, but ultimately I am the one who has to be happy with the end product. If I write another book then perhaps my motives will change and my approach will be different. But that’s a whole different story.
Pink Floyd wrote a song about education back in the late 70s called ‘Another Brick in the Wall’.
The implication was that education was another brick or barrier in life that people had to get through, which together with many others built the metaphorical wall after which Floyd’s concept album was named.
I take a different view about modern education. It’s not about bricks any more. Even education and training on building things isn’t about bricks. Nor is it about complete blue skies thinking and creativity. It is about bringing together knowledge with skills to produce individuals who are occupationally competent. This is what happened with Sir John Wolfe Barry’s apprentices back in the 19th century.
They often came from privileged backgrounds with little practical experience but plenty of basic knowledge. This was harnessed through opportunities to work in a variety of environments: the drawing office, archives and out on site or in a factory or workshop setting. Many of them went on to become more skilled than their master: Sir Alexander Gibb is one who comes to mind.
This was real learning by doing. But it would eventually be taken over by an academic type of learning aimed at the legal and managerial classes or to supply staff to the research laboratories of the great universities.
Sadly we have had to go back and reinvent the wheel. I only hope it’s not too late to get young people enthused again by the idea of work-based learning.
In the previous post in this series I referred to a unique office building in Liverpool, England completed in 1864 and how it had influenced architectural thinking about high rise buildings in late 19th Century America.
This post is about the architect Victor Horta.
I knew little about him until recently, when I began researching the origins of Art Nouveau as a revolutionary architectural style which flourished across the turn of the 19th and 20th Centuries. This connects with investigations related to Augustus Pugin, as well as into the relationship between architectural aesthetics and engineering form, some of which is recorded on this website about the civil engineer Sir John Wolfe Barry.
Horta appears to me to have been a remarkable man. But he was also a reflection of the time and place he lived. Born in Ghent, Belgium in 1861, he eventually moved to Brussels, the Belgian capital, where his unique approach to architecture struck a chord with key members of the city community. One particular building stands out for me and many others who have like me appreciated his efforts. This is the Hotel Tassel.
It was to be the home of a professor of geometry who was a Freemason like Horta. It seems the architect was given complete artistic licence. But he approached this, as Morris and Webb had done with their ground-breaking Red House in England, with a philosophical bent which captured the full expression of his talent in design and the detailed application of materials and techniques.
My new project will look at how this created vision still reverberates within the community that is Brussels.
The final post in this series.
Life seems to have two choice of strategies. You either specialise in a niche area or you broaden your outlook and cover all the bases. There are risks with both strategies but it seems to me the generalist one offers the most opportunities.
The construction industry is full of specialists: architects, surveyors, structural engineers, interior designers, builders etc. But it is technically possible to construct your own house. You may need people to check on your work from time to time, and if you make too many mistakes it can prove costly either in money terms or more seriously with implications for the health of the inhabitants. However it can be done.
Specialists come into their own when you want to try something different. A good architect will be able to respond to a challenging design brief by using their creative abilities to blend vision with reality. They in turn will work closely with a structural engineer to provide technical solutions to the new problems that arise from pushing the limits of construction. Materials specialists may also become involved. No generalist could manage this on their own.
Saying that, many project managers are generalists who are able to bring together specialists into combined teams for defined periods of time. They exist in all spheres of life and started to appear in their own right during the 20th Century. John Wolfe Barry might have been a possible candidate for this role if he had been born a century later.
The quick answer to the question in the title of this blog is yes.
The longer answer is yes, but in many cases it’s a risk worth taking.
I’ve been reading about a modern day Brunel who has taken huge risks to push the boundaries of engineering. He has launched his own radical space business to achieve his goal of getting humanity to Mars. This is as big a creative vision as any Brunel or Jobs. And unlike them he’s committed significant amounts of his own money in the enterprise. Why?
Because he believed that his creative vision wouldn’t be achieved unless he took the full burden of financial investment on his shoulders at least in the early stages. He also has the technical confidence to back this. Finally he pushes his employees to come up with creative engineering solutions to his problems by asking for impossible deadlines against very tight budgets. If they succeed they get due acknowledgement for their efforts.
If you don’t know his name by now then let me enlighten you. He is Elon Musk. It would be great to have a female version of him and his predecessors in due course as engineering is still a very male dominated environment.