In conjunction with Peter Galbert’s “Chairmaker’s Notebook,” we will soon be offering full-size plans of the two chairs shown in the book.
The plans were hand-drawn by Peter at full scale. I’ve been scanning and piecing together all the bits, trying to produce them on the fewest sheets possible. It is taking me longer than I expected.
I don’t have pricing information or a release date yet. We will be using a print-on-demand service to produce and mail them, and I am still working out some details with that company.
We have scientific writers of several kinds, and their number is continually increasing; there is no harm in that, but their studies are mainly directed to form theorists capable of ordering workmen, but unable to put their own hands to the work. Banish to their country seats the most celebrated engineers, and they will be as embarrassed to perform the smallest thing for themselves, as our statesmen, magistrates, professors, poets, painters, and wealthy merchants.
If a lamp leaks, a coffee-pot is broken, a screw lost, a lock damaged, or a chair on three legs—and for a thousand other petty trifles—they must send to the neighboring town. If it is an emergency, a messenger on horseback must be dispatched, with perhaps a kettle round his neck, and a couple of watering-pots in his hand: there is no poor Robinson Crusoe to be found in these oases of luxury and indigence. (more…)
See to it, good farmer friend, that your wife or handy daughter has a kit of tools for her own use. By a “kit,” I mean the very-much-needed articles of your workshop that she has to use and borrow from you (perhaps forgetting to replace them). For instance: Hammer, gimlet, hand-saw, (always kept in good trim), a box of mixed nails and screws, screw-driver, and, strange as it may sound, a mitre-box and a double glue pot.
You will be surprised to find how much of your very valuable time will thus be saved; and you may also be astonished at the amount of good work in carpentering accomplished by the good ladies of your household. A discarded mitre-box and a few feet of molding, left by a busy workman as a donation to the good wife, resulted in a very durable and handsome picture frame that gave great pride to the home manufacturer.
The girl of to-day is beginning to look to cabinetmaking and other branches of industry that heretofore were looked upon as the sole domain of her more favored brother. Well, encourage the girls in the use of necessary tools on a farm. Then perhaps we men folks shall have a few less hingeless, knobless doors to look after on a rainy day. Or perhaps we might get the girls to repair a broken fence if the cattle got out when we were away thrashing.
“He is a writer for the ages – the ages of four to eight.”
— Dorothy Parker
When people ask us about the books we are working on, they usually say something like: “That’s nice, but you should really get <insert name here> to write a book. That would be awesome.”
I can tell you most definitely that book is unlikely to be awesome.
After 25 years of writing, ghostwriting and editing authors of all skill levels, I can say that your world-class woodworking skills have little to do with the quality of book you might write. Many people are incapable of organizing their thoughts into words. Their prose is a diarrhea of overlapping and aimless ideas. They prefer to say something in 1,000 words when 10 would do. They never get to the point.
I’ve worked successfully with these people. I interviewed them (sometimes for days) and distilled their thoughts into a magazine article in their voice. It took about a week to create 2,000 words that way. Books are usually about 100,000 words. I don’t even want to do that math.
Even worse – and there is worse – are people who want to write a book yet have no idea what it should be about.
“Can you give me a topic?” they ask.
“Nope.”
Truth is most authors at Lost Art Press are burning up inside because of an obsession with some aspect of woodworking. They are already writing a book, but they don’t know the mechanics, or they think that only four people would read it.
Here’s what we ask of these people.
Come up with a title. If you cannot summarize the book into a compelling title, you should be worried.
Write a “high-concept” sentence that can describe the book in one sentence of no more than 12 words. Here’s the high concept for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest”: Buy better, but fewer, tools. Build stuff that defies consumerism. Disobey.
Write a “Table of Contents,” what we call the “TOC.” Write a title for each chapter and a sentence that describes what the chapter is about.
If you can do this and we’re excited about the book, chances are good that we can work together (unless you are an arrogant wiener).
All these thoughts are boiling in my brain right now because I am writing up a contract for our 20th potential project – that’s about five years of work we now have stacked up ahead of us. So trust me when I say there is a lot of unexplored ground in our craft – perhaps even a birdhouse book with your name on it.
I had an extra 60 minutes today so I leveled the tabletop, bored the mortises and reamed them. Part of me (the midbrain) likes the rough jack-planed surface now on the tabletop. But the rest of me knows I’m going to make the top as smooth and fine as the legs.
