Sharpening is a necessary evil on the path to making good furniture.
I wrote “Sharpen This” in the hopes of putting it in a time machine and sending it back to 1994 Chris when he first learned to sharpen. Like many woodworkers, 1994 Chris bought way too many sharpening systems, jigs and BS sandwiches peddled by salesmen.
Instead, I wish I’d been able to read this book.
The above video shows a lightning-quick tip that will help you get back to work faster. And it will reduce your grinding chores, save wear on your sharpening equipment and make you sexy to all raccoons.
After Nancy Hiller’s death on Monday and the outpouring of grief, tributes and love from her friends, family and fans, I didn’t know if there was anything left to say about this remarkable woman. But I am willing to find out.
First, what you must know is that everything you’ve already read is true. Nancy was a true trailblazer. And her work will continue as an inspiration for woodworkers in general, and women in particular, for years to come.
My relationship with Nancy was a little different than most people’s. I was a fan, of course. But we were also business partners on three of her books: “Making Things Work,” “Kitchen Think” and “Shop Tails.” And so I got to see how she thought about her place in the woodworking world, including places she didn’t want to go.
As we were finishing up the Lost Art Press edition of “Making Things Work” (she published it first under her own imprint), she said she wanted to change the book’s dust jacket. The edition she printed had a tasteful arrangement of hand tools on the cover. She told me it was an homage to Peter Korn’s book “Why We Make Things and Why it Matters.”
Korn, however, didn’t take the compliment in kind. And he told me at a Lie-Nielsen Toolworks event that Nancy should change her book’s cover.
For those who knew Nancy, this misunderstanding was typical of her complex mind. Even if Nancy was making a statement by comparing her book (and work) to Korn’s book (and work), it came from a place of deep respect. If she commented on your work, it was because it was good in some important way. Or it was strong enough to elicit a serious and well-considered reaction. (If your work was uninteresting, she would just be polite.)
Nancy’s attention was never binary (i.e. I like you, or I don’t). Instead, when she talked about woodworkers she disagreed with, her words were chosen with care. She could love your work or (fill in the blank here) but dislike your (fill in the blank here). And if Nancy liked you, she never let you forget that.
Naturally, someone this wildly intelligent and honest was intensely interesting to others.
For me, what was interesting was trying to piece together what she thought of herself. After we got to know one another, Nancy asked for a high-resolution scan of a French postcard I had published on the blog. It was a photo of Juliette Caron, the first female compagnon carpenter in France. Caron, born in 1882, was such an unusual sight that people would show up on job sites just to watch her work. And there was a series of postcards printed up that showed her working: carrying a wooden beam up a ladder, using an enormous auger and carrying a bisaiguë like a Jedi knight.
We don’t know what Caron thought of her fame. But when I look at the postcards of Caron that I own, I suspect she didn’t give a damn about it.
Nancy thanked me for the image of Caron, printed it out and framed it for her shop’s bathroom. I didn’t give it much thought until years later when we began discussing how to promote her books.
Nancy was traditionally trained as a woodworker in England and received City & Guilds certificates as a result of her training. This certification is helpful in getting a job in a workshop in the U.K. In the United States the certification is solid fried gold marketing fodder.
American readers *love* a woodworker with Old World bona fides. America never had much of an apprentice system for furniture makers, so most of us train informally or are self-taught. So when someone whips out formal certificates of this or that, those papers are almost more important than the person’s work at the bench.
Nancy refused – flatly – to build her career off her training. I repeatedly tried to get her to discuss it. Or allow us to use it when marketing her work. She would have none of it.
She wanted to be judged by her work.
And that’s when I made the connection between Nancy and Juliette.
As an editor, her attitude was frustrating because I thought we could sell more books. But you learned to be frustrated when working with Nancy. And you even came to enjoy it.
When you worked with Nancy, she would do anything and everything to ensure that she was doing her part in the relationship. When I designed her “Kitchen Think” book, I would send her chapters for review at odd hours. Sunday. Maybe at 2 a.m. Maybe three chapters in a day.
It’s how I work. I always get consumed by the project at hand, and I work until I drop. But I don’t expect authors to respond in kind.
Nancy was the only author who has ever kept up with my stupid pace. And, in the case of “Kitchen Think,” she just about wore me out with her detailed notes and suggestions about layout, color and the way I was processing the photos in the book.
Her work ethic was, especially at the end, heartbreaking.
Her book “Shop Tails” has been a slow seller. From the outset, I knew it would be. But I also knew it would be a brilliant work, and so we threw ourselves into the tumultuous editor/writer/designer/publisher storm to get the book done before cancer was done with her.
And we succeeded. But after the first sales numbers for the book came in, Nancy called me, unannounced.
“I think we should do ‘Shop Tails’ as an audio book.”
“Well, OK,” I replied. “I’ll look into finding someone who can read the book for the recording.”
“No,” she said. “I’ll read it.”
I put up a little bit of a fight. “You are finishing chemo for a deadly cancer. Are you sure?” But I knew I would lose the skirmish. She said she would start looking for a studio to do the recording. Or she would figure out how to do the recording at her house.
Within a week, Nancy was behind a microphone where she managed to record hours and hours of emotionally difficult (but hilarious) material. She even recorded a bonus chapter for the audio book.
Juliette making it look easy.
All this wasn’t for Nancy’s ego. It was because she didn’t want Lost Art Press to lose money on her book.
I told her the book would eventually make money. And anyway, that’s not why we published it. We published it because it’s a great book, and the work deserved it.
Nancy would have none of that. She wrote me an email saying she wanted to discuss some ideas she had for finding the book’s audience.
I told her to call anytime.
She didn’t call. And that’s because there was only one thing in this world that could stop her. And it got to her in the early hours of Aug. 29.
Though we all knew Nancy’s death was coming, it still feels like she was ripped from our lives mid-sentence. And that’s because she was.
I think this is how I will set our relationship down here on the table. Just me, waiting for her to call with her latest backbreaking but brilliant scheme to uphold her end of our work together.
I’ve kept her number in the contact list in my phone. Because honestly, if anyone could figure out how to make that call, it’s Nancy.
If you order either of these titles before Oct. 1, you will receive a free pdf download of the book(s) at checkout. After Oct. 1, the pdf and book will cost more.
“Euclid’s Door” is Jim and George’s latest exploration of artisan geometry. In this new book they show you how to build a set of highly accurate and beautiful wooden layout tools using simple geometry and common bench tools. This practical application of geometry will train your hands and mind to use this ancient wisdom. And you’ll end up with a fantastic set of useful tools.
After editing all of George and Jim’s books, I thought I had a pretty good handle on the geometry stuff. I was wrong. This book blew my mind a few times with stuff I should have known. (And now I’m glad I do.)
The book is 8.5” x 11” and 120 pages. It is printed in the USA and is built to be a permanent book, with heavy cover boards and a binding that is glued and sewn.
‘Sharpen This’
My latest book, “Sharpen This,” is the book I wish I had when I was learning woodworking. It might have saved me hundreds of dollars of buying sharpening equipment I didn’t need. And saved me time in learning how to grind, hone and polish.
This book is a short and blunt treatise about common bench tools: chisels and planes mostly. (Exotic tools and saws need their own books, really.) It seeks to explain how sharpening really works and what you need to do the job well – and no more.
It is not about one sharpening system. It’s about all of them. It is not trying to sell you some stones or jigs or magic paper. Instead, it is trying to give you the foundational knowledge you need in sharpening so you can make good decisions and – perhaps more importantly – ignore the vast piles of sharpening crap that companies are trying to sell you.
The book is 4” x 6.5” and is 120 pages. The book is printed and bound in the USA using quality materials and a sewn binding. It is designed to last a lifetime. “Sharpen This” is the same trim size as “The Woodworker’s Pocket Book,” and easily fits in the slipcases made by Texas Heritage.
This six-stick comb-back is a significant step forward for me. While I would never call my chairs “Welsh” (I am but 2 percent Welsh and live in Kentucky), this chair is the most Welsh of the chairs I’ve made to date.
What’s different? Mostly the wood for the arms and the comb. The oak’s grain follows the curve of the arm and the comb. While many Welsh chairs would use a curved branch to obtain this curved grain, I used oak from a trunk that had grown incredibly curved. This required a lot of careful cutting and a lot of waste. But I am pleased with the result.
Also Welsh-ish: the color. During my visits to Wales I saw traditional cottages with the doors and woodwork painted red. I am sure I don’t have the correct shade, but it is close to my memory. Plus, I have left many of the tenons slightly proud and burnished them smooth.
The chair is one of the four shown during the filming of our new video about how to build stick chairs, so you will see your chair a few times as it comes together in the background of the video.
I am selling this chair for $1,700 via a random drawing. The price is a little higher than usual because of all the waste – plus the involved finishing process. Instructions on purchasing the chair can be found near the bottom of this blog entry. Here are some more details about its design and construction.
This particular chair is set up for general use. The back is fairly upright at 12° off the seat. And the seat tilts at 4°, giving the chair an overall tilt of 16°. The seat is 16-3/4” off the floor to accommodate both short and tall sitters, and the chair is 39” high overall.
All the straight components of this chair were sawn or split out to be as strong as possible. The arms are made from four pieces of red oak. All of the chair’s major joints were assembled using hide glue, so repairs in the (far) future will be easy.
The chair’s finish was a multi-day process. First, the entire chair was burnished with a chainmail pot scrubber (a detail I learned from John Porritt’s “The Belligerent Finisher”). Then I applied three coats of acrylic paint. Finally, I applied a coat of black wax to fill the pores and mellow the bright red paint.
How to Purchase This Chair
This chair is being sold via a drawing. If you wish to buy the chair, send an email to lapdrawing@lostartpress.com before 3 p.m. (Eastern) on Monday, Sept. 5. In the email please use the subject line “Chair Sale” and include your:
First name and last name
U.S. shipping address
Daytime phone number (this is for the trucking quote only)
After all the emails have arrived on Sept. 5, we will pick a winner that evening.
If you are the “winner,” the chair can be picked up at our storefront for free. Or we can ship it to you via common carrier. The crate is included in the price of the chair. Shipping a chair usually costs about $175 to $300, depending on your location. (I’m sorry but we cannot ship it outside the U.S.)
