Category: The Anarchist’s Tool Chest

Today I signed off on the 11th printing of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.” Since 2011, we have printed nearly 30,000 copies of this book. In big-boy-pants publishing terms, that number represents a total and utter failure. Also a failure: Telling the world how many books you’ve really printed.

But <expletive omitted> that.

Those of you who purchased that book are responsible for laying the foundation blocks for what we do here with Lost Art Press. Had I published that book with another publisher, I’d have made about $10,000 (and would be working in retail by now). Because John and I published it ourselves – and you bought it – we made a publishing company instead.

The 10th anniversary of the book is coming up in 2021. We might have to do a revision or (at least) a redesign….

— Christopher Schwarz

“I try to keep in mind that if I dropped dead tomorrow, all of my acrylic workplace awards would be in the trash the next day, and my job would be posted in the paper before my obituary.”

— Bernie Klinder, a consultant for a large tech company, The New York Times, Jan. 26, 2019

While my colleagues in journalism would like to think we occupy a white-collar profession – like doctors or lawyers – history would disagree. Before the Watergate era, journalism was a trade occupied by people with a high school education or less.

My wife (also a journalist) and I have always embraced the working-class aspect of our jobs and I’m sure it colors the way we write and think (ergo the anti-consumerist “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest”).

My journalism training also colors the way I build furniture.

I’m not interested in high-style furniture – the stuff designed to convey social status and wealth. And I regularly turn down commissions that veer into these well-moneyed waters (though it would be great for our bank account).

But (and thank you for reading this far) it goes beyond furniture style. My training seeps into the way I build thing as well.

While most woodworkers I admire work to a high level of craftsmanship – time be damned – I do the opposite. Everything I build is on the clock. My goal is to see how much near-perfect craftsmanship I can squeeze into that time constraint.

Maybe an example will help. When I saddle the seat of a chair, I allow myself four hours to do the job – start to finish. That four hours ensures I will not lose money or fall behind on other projects. And it forces me to become a better woodworker. I want to saddle a seat as well as Peter Galbert, but if it takes me 16 hours, that’s not helpful.

So while some people try to do something perfect and then get fast at it. I am backwards. I do it as fast as possible and try to get more perfect every time.

What happens if I fail? If the clock hits four hours and the seat sucks? Surprisingly, that rarely happens because I try to be realistic with my time estimates. But if things go sour on the saddle, I grant myself an extra 30 minutes or an hour to bring the seat up to snuff.

The best part of this process is when I finally hit my stride. Today I saddled a maple seat in three hours and now have an hour to work on improving things. I’m trying to get the pommel crisper and have a whole hour to sort that out without losing any money.

I also write my blog entries, books and magazine articles using this system. Blog entries should take 30 minutes. I now have three minutes left to make this blog entry better.

Or maybe I’ll just have another beer.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I built my chest for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” I didn’t include any chest lifts. Why? I don’t know. I had planned on making some intricate rope beckets. But I didn’t. I guess I’m just an idiot.

Months later, Roy Underhill showed me how to make “dog bone” lifts for a chest. He makes them a little differently than I do, but the idea is the same. These are the lifts I use now when I build chests for customers. Here are the steps:

1. Make a handle that looks like a dog bone.
2. Turn down the middle of the dog bone to a cylinder
3. Shape the remainder of the lift with ogees, ovolos, yodas etc.
4. Finish and attach.

For each lift, start with a piece of wood that is 1-3/4” x 3” x 13-1/2”. The handle in the middle is 1” in diameter and 4” long. So saw out the excess material as shown in the photo below:

Now chuck the piece in your lathe and turn down the handle to 1” in diameter. I give the handle a slight barrel shape and incise a couple lines (because I am a fancy lad).

Now saw away the excess and shape the ends. I use an ogee and an ovolo. Then I rasp an 1/8” x 1/8” bevel on the hard arrises. Finally, drill the counterbores and pilot holes for attaching the lifts with four stout steel screws.

Finish the lifts. Attach them.

Note that I want these lifts to look handmade (they are). I am not going for the pattern-routed look. I like the sharp silhouette of the chest with the addition of these slightly earthy-looking handles on the ends. You grab them and they feel smooth and worn. It’s Hobbit-y to me.

— Christopher Schwarz