Publisher's Diary: Hard by Design

Apocalypse, burnout and alcohol – it must be summer!

After suggesting last month that blogs might be sporadic for a while, sure enough, here I am again after several weeks of silence – and I must admit, as we head into the height of summer, I don’t see the pace picking up any time soon. Of course, apologising is tiring in itself, not much fun, and probably unnecessary: so let’s just agree that, going forward, posts will come whenever they come, blown in by whatever cool summer breeze happens to drift through my seaside flat. I’ll write when I’m in the mood, you’ll read at your leisure, and thus a fragile balance will be restored.

The title of today’s post is a phrase that’s often been in my head this week, possibly because I was doing an unbelievably complex piece of design work that lasted almost 20 hours – but for a few other reasons too. It comes from a song by the awkwardly-named but excellent American folk band Hiss Golden Messenger, and sung with great soul in the original context – “[life is] hard by design” – it’s one of my favourite lyrics.

I thought of it again when reading Isabelle’s Bookseller article about how “the finances of indie publishing are broken” (and I note she’s lined up a song reference of her own for the main headline). This quote from The West Wing comes to mind too, spoken by an average citizen struggling to make ends meet with two jobs:

“It should be hard. I like that it's hard …
… but it should be just a little easier. In that difference is everything.”

I’m still tinkering with my own version of the “finances” article, but keep finding interesting new stuff to add. You’ll see it one day!

Apocalyptic Landscape

This cheerily-named book, with three cooling towers on the cover, was the cause of my 20-hour design odyssey this week, as I attempted to typeset 100 pages of dense, intricately laid-out, expressionistic poetry about “the crisis of the Anthropocene” as relating to landscapes important to the contributors. If your response to that description was “what??” I do have some sympathy; I have so far struggled to articulate the appeal of this anthology, but it is absolutely incredible, and will be published by Valley Press at the start of October. You can pre-order now.

It’s the brainchild of Steve Ely, a poet and lecturer of much renown – in fact, the top Google result for Steve says he is “exhilarating”, and we all need more people like that in our lives! He is working on a larger research project arguing that Ted Hughes’ best poetry is Expressionist, and then seeking to encourage innovative new poetry informed by Expressionist principles. So, it’s a book of dark, emotional, experimental poetry, including – in a welcome contrast to more typical anthologies – lots of long poems and extended sequences, allowing the reader to spend more time with each writer. (A full list of contributors can be found here; you’ll recognise some names.)

Almost all the contributors have, I can report, discovered the “tab” key on their computers and made extensive use of it to scatter their poems across the pages, with many pieces making an artistic impact before you’ve read a single word. Perhaps the strongest praise I can give is that I really believe those 20 hours were well spent, and there’s not a better way I could have directed my energies this week – I’m deeply proud of the book that’s coming together, and I feel sure the contributors will agree when it turns up this autumn.

Feeling the burn

In my last article, I wrote quite vaguely about a feeling of disruption, and of autism getting in the way of all the great work I could be doing. It has since been gently pointed out to me that what I described was something called “autistic burnout” – a textbook case, in fact – and it’s a very specific issue about which a lot has been written.

I know we have quite the neurodivergent community on this blog, so I’ll share some napkin-sized notes I jotted down which helped me get through that period and back to being my productive, jolly self. (This is by no means comprehensive; please do read up further if you think this sounds like you.)

• Common causes of autistic burnout: overcommitment, sensory overload, social exhaustion, multi-tasking, changes of routine and environment, excessive demands on “executive function”, emotional stress.

• Common symptoms: lack of focus, loss of skills, exhaustion, struggling to verbalise, emotional dysregulation, physical/somatic issues (e.g. for me, unprovoked sneezing and a runny nose).

• Potential cures: rest, peace and quiet, routine/predictability, meditation, engagement with special interests, limiting commitments. (I have an excellent new weekly planning spreadsheet, which means there are only ever three things on my “to-do” list at once.)

I think a lot of people reading this may recognise some of those symptoms, and if so, I’d highly recommend giving those “cures” a try. This could help too…

Goodbye socials

Also last time out, I discussed a desire to take Valley Press entirely off social media (except for this present platform, which we all agree doesn’t count!) This sparked a lively discussion in the comments section, with Jan from Cinnamon Press ultimately sealing the deal by sharing this comprehensive article, and stressing the dangers of being “sucked into things that are not congruent [with your beliefs].”

I had no shortage of emails about the issue, too, with not a single person speaking up for the power and effectiveness of social media as a tool for business – though there was a feeling that to fully delete the accounts, leaving no trace of VP anywhere, might cross the line into unhelpful. So we won’t do that, but the larger decision has been made: as far as social media goes, we’re done, for good. Let the chips fall where they may! (Did you know that idiom is about chopping wood, not gambling? Oh, but talking of vices that involve chips…)

Cooking with Alcohol

Originally published by our ill-fated Lendal Press imprint in 2021, this 300-page full-colour cookbook is one of the fanciest books I’ve ever been involved with. It’s now great value, too, going for just £15 in the Valley Press web shop, and makes a great present for foodies and drunkards alike.

I’ve added it back to the shop this week as the authors, Aaron and Susannah Rickard, appeared on the BBC’s Food Chain podcast (5 min 25 secs in), talking about how they created the 100+ recipes in the book – it was all a question of chemistry, apparently. It’s a fascinating listen; seems the one culinary miracle they couldn’t pull off was putting vodka in coleslaw!

That’s about all for today. I don’t know what the overlap is between readers interested in American folk music, expressionist poetry, neurodivergent self-care and the finer points of gastronomic chemistry – but for those lucky few, good lord, was this the post for you! What a shame you’ll never find it on social media; we could have had some bloody good “hashtags” too. Rows and rows of the things. Oh well.

I hope to be back in your inbox for the first anniversary of this blog at the start of August, though I’m not sure how best to celebrate – ideas welcome! Until then, take care, and as ever, thanks for reading.