Silent Type deadline

As you may know, the deadline for submissions to Silent Type was yesterday. Out of the 25 people who signed up, I have gotten 8 11 submissions in time.

***crickets chirping*****

Lucky for you, I will keep checking the box until July 11th, if you want to put the pedal to the floor. (Do add your name and info to the spreadsheet if you've joined us at the last minute). If you can't make it, I understand. It would be helpful for layout planning purposes however if you could indicate on the spreadsheet that I should not expect an envelope--I'll add a "Withdraw" columm. Hopefully you can make the next issue, if you'd like.

Contributors:

Silent Type will have a table of contents, which will list the title(s) of your pieces, the genre/type of piece, and your name. I will take this information from data you provide on the sign-up sheet. If you are contributing, please visit/revisit this sheet and make sure you have provided title(s), type(s) of work, and your name exactly as you want it listed. (If you have submitted multiple pieces, be clear which title refers to which format, etc.).

I think this is going to turn out to be an interesting/fun publication (that is, if you are a retronerd), so thanks to the participants. I haven't seen one yet where I thought "What the hell was X thinking?!" despite all the sturm und drang over horrrrrible submissions in the comments of certain bloggers cough Speegle cough.

PS: If you know of any artists who want to contribute, please sign them up. We need some visuals to break up all the typin.' I may resort to using my own bad outsider art drawing of a Lettera 22 if I get desperate. (That said, we do have one great illustration and several photographs, so thanks for those y'all).

The Independent Publishing Resource Center (IPRC) Print Camp: block printing and altered books

Darn, it's already been over a week and I still haven't gotten around to posting about my trip to the IPRC in Portland, OR last weekend.

The IPRC makes me really, really sad I don't live in Portland. It is a facility dedicated to self-publishing, and they have a great wealth of resources and tools (page layout software, letterpress equipment, a zine library, a bookbinding machine, work tables, photocopiers, typewriters, mimeograph equipment, art supplies, etc. etc.) that you can access for modest membership and/or classroom fees. The instructors and staff are very kind and open-minded (kind of a Portland trait I gather) and do not make you feel like a doofus about your artistic abilities or lack thereof.

My friend Brandon and I attended Print Camp, which was a weekend-long series of classes including an introduction to letterpress, mimeograph, bookbinding, and block (relief) printing. I'll start with the last two, as there is too much to say about the overall experience for one post.

Block Printing

This PDF link provides a good visual tutorial (unrelated to the IPRC) about what block printing is and looks like. Essentially, block printing involves carving a reverse image into a wood or linoleum block, pressing the block in ink, and then making a print impression.

I wish I could say I was as talented as my friend Brandon in the matter of the visual arts, but alas, I cannot. He did a beautiful, cardworthy octopus print (I forgot my copy of it at the IPRC, perhaps out of jealousy), but you will have to settle for looking at my botched Strikethru design.

If you have never tried block printing, it is very soothing to gouge linoleum with sharp tools. If you are willing to part with $42 dollars and want to give it a try, Speedball makes a block printing kit with all of the supplies.

Altered books

I know I said bookbinding earlier in this post, and that is what this segment of the class was originally supposed to be, but there was an agenda change. Before I proceed, it's time for a little side story.

I have previous experience with bookbinding, which surely I've mentioned here before. If I have, indulge me again. Since it traumatized me, I tend to ramble about it at any opportunity. I took a class here in Seattle several years ago with a nameless book artist in possession of a Jekyll and Hyde personality (which one of those guys was the evil one? Mostly that one) who took to yelling at anyone who did not perfectly duplicate her complex signature-sewing instructions on the first try. One student ran from class in tears (!) and did not return the following day (not sure why I returned myself, actually). Ever since then, I have been afraid of bookbinding (Brandon --who was in that class with me too-- even called ahead to make sure The Evil One was not affiliated with the IPRC). I was willing to get back on the horse at the IPRC, but as it turns out, I didn't have to, as the topic had changed to altered books.

Now, altered books present their own dilemma, more of an ethical one. I have posted about this topic before, related as it is to key-cutting and other acts of destroying 20th century media for the purpose of arts and crafts (or Etsy sales). I am not in reality much of a rebel, however, and wasn't going to be That Kid who refuses to dissect the frog in biology class and ends up on the evening local news, so I took an Xacto knife to an old romance novel, and turned it into a weird collage of pockets and notebooks.



I admit it was kind of fun. Check back in my Etsy store later this week for a lovely assortment of typewriter key cufflinks and pendants.

I'm kidding, people. But really, I find the subject of old media dissection to be fascinating. There has to be some terribly intellectual thing one could say (this has Darren Wershler-Henry written all over it) about what this 21st century artistic compulsion says about our psyches.

Anyway, this post is To Be Continued.

Idols by Tim Gautreaux

Ryan told me that there is a story about a typewriter repairman in the June 22 issue of The New Yorker. I read the story today and quite enjoyed it.

Give it a read, it's online.

The next day, the old man and two high-school boys delivered Julian’s purchases. Upstairs, Mr. Poxley stared at the sagging bedroom ceiling. “Say, what you do for a livin’?”

“I sell and service typewriters on a business route in Memphis.”

“Typewriters,” Mr. Poxley repeated, as if Julian had said buggy whips or steam engines. “We threw our last one out ten years ago.”

“Some places need reliable old models to fill out forms and such.” Julian spread open a sheet over his new mattress. “Antique shops want rare models restored.”

The old man gave the house the once-over, looked down the flaking hall, across the warped pine flooring, gazed up at the cloth-covered wires snaking along the ceiling. “For your sake, I hope typin’ comes back in style.”

Unrelatedly, check out the Daily Show clip about the New York Times in Sotto Voce's post.

--------------Silent Type update-------------

Silent Type update is pretty much going to be a regular feature at the bottom of posts, BTW.

I will indicate whose entries I have received on the spreadsheet, so check it out to make sure yours arrived. (I do not check the PO box every day, so there may be some delay). Thank you to those of you who have sent yours.

I hear tell that some of you are concerned about the quality of your submissions and/or are considering non-participation. I am here to officially declare this silliness, and will be fully expecting to see your submission in the mailbox. **cough MPClemens cough**. It is not too late to send your entries-- please get them in the mail!

If it makes anyone feel better, my own entry is quite half-baked.

Ace Typewriter, Portland Oregon

Links about Ace

Repairing a little bit of the past
Inside Ace Typewriter
The reprieve of Ace's retail location

Weekend update

Random updates while I work on another project for a couple of days:

A friend gave me a Kodaslide tabletop slide viewer from the 1940's. It's this amazing little space-age glowing podlike device. I plan to show some video shortly (it still works!)

Typewriter journal! The deadline is approaching! Now I know from prior 90's era zine experience that it's quite common for people to say they will contribute to your publication, yet have nothing for you at the deadline. Don't let this be you. Last time I unlocked the P.O. box, a cool wind blew through the slot from inside the mailroom, unobstructed by mail of any kind. Oh, and --probably a little late to mention this-- but you're going to want to leave a margin on both (long) sides of your paper, so your art/writing/etc. won't be obscured by the binding. To be entirely technical, I'd say a thumb or a thumb and a half. If you've already done your submission and are now cursing my name, go ahead and mail it anyway and I will figure something out.

Yes, there are adsense ads on my blog now. I would like to think this is not selling out, which I define as a huge honking banner at the top of your page that bumps down all your content. I may backtrack and declare it selling out later on. But clearly, I'm not afraid to try weird blog experiments (see 'foxygate' controversy in the comments of this post).

Anyone out there a freelance writer? I've been investigating those sites that pay you a pittance for creating articles and other types of copy, and am slowly forming an opinion on this that I may share at some point... feel free to preempt my musings with your own thoughts on this one.

That is all.

I made a paper wallet

Paper solves all problems.

My kid likes to dump my wallet out on the floor and rummage through its contents-- good practice for the tween years, I suppose. Problem is, key items from the wallet sometimes end up under the dollhouse in the living room when they should be with me at the grocery check stand.

Thus, in a fit of boredom, I made her a paper wallet today. Try to do that online. Oh, that's right. You can't. Sorry, interweb.






PS: Here is someone elses's design for making a paper wallet-- it looks a little more official than mine. Might give it a try.

Update Here is my attempt.

Typewriter case accessories

So, what kind of typewriter accessories do you have lying around, if any? No, I'm not talking about key chopped cufflinks. You know what I mean-- those little bonus items that come with a particularly well-preserved machine: manuals, keys, brushes, perhaps a bill of sale or other interesting note tucked into the case?

My cursive Hermes 3000 (picture) and my Royal Quiet De Luxe (picture) both came well-appointed: a key and a brush with the Royal, and everything with the Hermes: original manual, two-brush set, key. Here's where the story turns dark: I LOST THE MANUAL.

I know. I either misplaced it or ...unthinkably... recycled it by mistake (constant and mandatory recycling of any shiny or paper-based item not nailed down is a way of life in the Seattle area, as is talking endlessly about one's upcoming weekend marathon and the joys of organic gardening). Have any of you guys seen it lying around?

So tell me about your accessories collection if you have one (could be a daunting exercise for those of you with massive inventory) .

By the way, here's a bigger version of the above picture, with a couple of notes.