I am excited to reveal the front cover of my new book which will be published by the end of September.
Firstly, I have to make you aware of the credit for the image, written immediately below it, in case by any chance you wish to save it elsewhere (out of politeness you can tell me in the comments section). This must always be included with it.
My Italian cover designer Elisa worked with me on the original photo, hence the share of the credit she gets.
It was an interesting process which started in May and is not quite complete as I still need to finalise the spine width for the print version.
However, for marketing purposes now is the right time to start promoting the book’s front cover.
I will explain a bit more how the front cover came about.
As you can see, the image includes a photo of Tower Bridge which Elisa and I both liked as it was one of the key structures in the book. She helped me turn it into something more usable for a book cover and then we filled in the text, advised by my editor and others who had previously given me feedback on titles and use of cover images etc. I’ve blogged about images for my book.
The final title came from working versions and was adapted to suit search engines and the fit with the graphic. The sub-header is also my tagline for the book, #buildingpassions. My name isn’t prominent as it’s my first book, but hopefully that will change in the future.
Once the text is proofed and indexing complete then I will bring everything together into an electronic version that you will be able to download (at a price I’m afraid!). Not quite there yet though.
One of the most interesting findings from self-publishing my forthcoming book (short title ‘Building Passions’) on the 19th-century Brunels and Barrys is that sourcing images is complicated!
I could probably write a separate book about this but below are some bullets.
- My editor quite rightly advised me to start sourcing images early in the process. It has probably taken me about 4 months and there is still one outstanding one to be licensed.
- People and organisations have different policies for licensing images ranging from free, no hassle to costly and complex! This seems to bear little relevance to the provenance of the image …
- The internet has taken the lead in encouraging the shared use of free images through Creative Commons and similar schemes.
- Certain images of well-known privately-owned buildings e.g. the Burj Khalifa and the Shard are copyrighted, but in the case of the Eiffel Tower while you can use a daytime image freely, you can’t use a nighttime one as the electric lighting is trademarked …
- Non-fiction works are therefore more costly to publish so if you want to spend less, write fiction and include your own illustrations.
I am sympathetic to living producers of genuine artistic objects who need to be recognised and rewarded for their efforts, in order to allow the creative design process to flourish.
However, I am less sympathetic to others outside this category, particularly archives and agencies that charge self-publishers large sums for the reuse of their images, many of which may have outlived their ‘real’ copyright needs.
I think we need to strike a balance here, as with many areas of life. If not, one day perhaps everything we see will be labelled ‘not for reuse’, including ourselves. See this intriguing piece about copyrighting the tattoos of famous sports personalities …
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.