We have known the cartoonist Robby Bullen for many years and we can vouch for how damn good he is at his job. He’s a master of the genre, who’s regularly published in Private Eye, The Oldie,and other national and regional media.
He has turned his cartoonist’s eye to another format by producing a short video clip for us to mark the occasion of launching Burnt Toast Editorial as East Dorset’s new publishing consultancy. We think it’s the biz and hope you like it too.
Robby can work on private commissions as well as corporate clients. If you are interested in making contact with him send us an email and we will pass your details on.
The Independent published an article recently about Charles Dickens and his many publishing ventures such as Household Words, Household Narrative and All the Year Round, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Here’s why.
The author of the piece, Jeremy Parrott, ¹ described how he had unravelled the roll call of contributors to these journals which up until his research had largely remained something of a mystery. Within his article he refers to the University of Buckingham’s online digitised archive of these magazines which can be accessed by researchers and the public alike. I was especially intrigued with this extract from the article:
“As well as staff writers for the magazine, Dickens had a small group of regulars including the nigh-indefatigable Walter Thornbury who wrote close to 200 pieces for All the Year Round and Household Words before dying of exhaustion in a mental asylum at the age of 48″. ²
It would seem that in the service of Household Words and All the Year Round Thornbury travelled widely, writing articles that vividly depicted the United States and Palestine, the Iberian Peninsula, and European Turkey. He also wrote a long series of articles in All the Year Round entitled “Old Stories Retold”, where he covered topics such as “Trafalgar in 1805”, “Bombardment of Algiers in 1816”, “The Assassination of Mr. Perceval in 1812”, “The Cato Street Conspiracy in 1820”, “The Two Great Murders in the Ratcliffe Highway in 1811”, and “The Resurrection Men—Burke and Hare, in 1829”.
Apparently the series was curtailed due to Dickens dislike of their sanguinary and salacious content!
You can read more about Walter George Thornbury, Dickens’ indefatigable writer here
² Sadly, Thornbury died of overwork at Camberwell House Asylum, Peckham Road, London, on 11th June 1876, and was buried on the 13th at Nunhead Cemetery. He was survived by a wife and three sons.
Here’s another glorious #wonderword! One you might be forgiven for thinking was the name of a villain in a James Bond film but in fact dégringolade is used either as a verb or a noun to describe a more serious state of affairs – that of a decline or deterioration. Not just any old type of decline but a rapid one. One minute up, next minute down, just like Captain Haddock of Tintin fame whose life is a series of disasters interspersed with acts of comedic heroism. It also brings to mind yesterday’s inglorious tumble in political clout and prestige of the British Prime Minister, Theresa May.
A prime case of semantic drift dégringolade’s etymological origins are Middle French (desgringueler) meaning to tumble and also Middle Dutch (crinkelen) to make curl, similar in fact to the English words of “crinkle” and “crank”. In other words dégringolade indicates not only decline but its speed and trajectory. Got it?
Its first known use was in 1873; perhaps not so surprising as this was but six years before the French Revolution. Although mostly commonly found in French usage it does pop up in English especially in political and financial journalism, for example,
“For a Democratic Party in the depths of political dégringolade, liberal-Progressives throughout DC and the media are expressing a level of bravado that reeks of either an embarrassing feign or a deep level of denial of the message sent to them by the American people.” ¹
Or in the case of the English author Julian Barnes from Nothing to be Frightened of, his maverick twist on the family memoir,
“Though I based the story on a septuagenarian dégringolade I heard about elsewhere, which I then grafted on to my parents’ home life, I didn’t deceive myself about what I was up to. I was retrospectively – posthumously – giving my father a bit of fun, of extra life, of air.” ²
Either way it is a fantastically expressive and imaginative word to be savoured.
¹ Winters, P. M., “Democratic Party Dégringolade”, Dignitas News Service, 6 November 2014.
² Barnes, J, Nothing to be Frightened of, (Jonathan Cape), 2008. For a review of this book written in the New York Times by Garson Keillor click here.
For the pronounciation of dégringolade click here.
Here’s another glorious #wonderword – oleaginous. As you pronounce (olee-a-gee-nus) it’s hard to resist elongating and savouring the sound of this elastic adjectival word.
Its etymological origin is Middle English from the French oléagineux and the Latin oleaginous (“of the olive tree”) and its meaning is two-fold:
1) rich in, covered with, or producing oil;
2) unctuous, exaggeratedly complimentary, fawning, smarmy.
Thus, oleaginous is a perfect combination of meaning and descriptive representation.
Charles Dickens’ character Uriah Heep in David Copperfield is arguably the most powerful depiction of someone who’s oleaginous. When Dickens’ eponymous hero first encounters Heep, Dickens holds nothing back in his descriptive powers:
“Heep’s face was quite as cadaverous as it had looked in the window, though in the grain of it there was that tinge of red which is sometimes to be observed in the skins of red-haired people. It belonged to a red-haired person – a youth of fifteen, as I take it now, but looking much older – whose hair was cropped as close as the closest stubble; who had hardly any eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a red-brown, so unsheltered and unshaded, that I remember wondering how he went to sleep.”
“He was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a white wisp of a neckcloth; buttoned up to the throat; and had a long, lank, skeleton hand, which particularly attracted my attention, as he stood at the pony’s head, rubbing his chin with it, and looking up at us in the chaise.”
Like many of Dickens’ villains, Heep is motivated mainly by greed; yet embodied in his character there’s a commentary on the English class system. As the plot of David Copperfield unfolds Heep eventually reveals his lifelong resentment at being the object of charity and low expectations. His thwarted ambition is the driving force behind his cunning and villainy.
Much of Dickens’ fiction was inspired by personal experience and scholars have attributed the inspiration for Uriah Heep as either Hans Christian Andersen, ¹ whom the author met in 1847 shortly before writing David Copperfield or more likely Thomas Powell, a friend of Dickens’ ne’er do well brother Augustus and an employee of Thomas Chapman, a friend of the author. Powell apparently ” … ingratiated himself into the Dickens household” and was duly discovered to be a forger and a thief, having embezzled £10,000 from his employer. He later attacked Dickens in a number of pamphlets, calling particular attention to Dickens’ social class and background. ² So quite a step from olives to embezzlement!
¹ Hawes, Dennis, Who’s Who in Dickens, (Routledge), 1998, p. 109.
² “The Extraordinary Life of Charles Dickens” see http://www.charlesdickensonline.com/Gallery/g322.htm
Click here for a biography of Charles Dickens at the BBC website.
Click here for information about the actor Bransby Williams.
One wouldn’t readily think there’s a literary or publishing connection between J.K. Rowling, author of the world’s most famous wizard since either Oz or Merlin and the late American writer Norman Mailer,¹ an author best known for his pugilistic and bruising intellectualism.
What is it that binds these two unlikely literary behemoths other than their obvious star selling power? The answer is planning the plot; what Tony Buzan would call “mind mapping” or what was known in the 1970s as “idea sunbursting”.
Currently held in the Mailer archive in the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas, ² the mind map of Harlot’s Ghost reveals how its author managed the monumental amount of ideas, events, and characters that propel a novel about the CIA from 1959-1964 to its 1,100 plus pages conclusion. ³
So vast and complex are the strands that pull the story of Mailer’s central character of Harry Hubbard, that each year is worked out in detail with key plot and character developments highlighted with column headings e.g. “Havanna”, “Judith Campbell” (JFK’s mistress), “Hoover and FBI”, and “RFK” (Robert Kennedy). In the column “World Events” you will find amongst many other entries: “Nixon-Kruschev kitchen debate” (1959), “Berlin Wall goes up” (1961), “Glenn first American to orbit Earth” (1962), “Kim Philby named as Soviet spy by British” (1963), and “Sex scandal forces out John Profumo” (1963).
Under the column “Miscellaneous”, Mailer identified contemporaneous keynote detail such as the films La Dolce Vita, Goldfinger, Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf, and Psycho; the publication of books such as A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch, The Tin Drum and Hertzog; and popular music hits as in Moon Riverand Let’s do the Twist. He even made a reference in the “JFK” column to Motown Records and some of their most famous acts of the time − the Supremes, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye.
Yet, Mailer is far from being the only author whose plot planning and story outlines have been captured in formats not entirely dissimilar. Nor is it the first example of plot planning by map, for example Joseph Heller’s plan for Catch 22 was hatched in this fashion. But it is perhaps the most fascinating for its use of historical event to flesh out character and context and clearly demonstrates Mailer’s expertise in this form of literary writing.
Which brings me to J. K. Rowling. A writer whose stories could not be further from those of Norman Mailer – except in one respect – they both write (wrote in the case of Mailer) bumper-sized books with complex plots. Just take a look below at how she mapped out the plot of The Order of the Phoenix, drafted on hole-punched A4 lined paper no less!
¹ Norman Mailer (1923-2007). See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_Mailer
² For the Harlot’s Ghost mind map at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas click http://blog.hrc.utexas.edu/2011/06/16/in-the-galleries-mailers-character-timeline-for-harlots-ghost/
³ Mailer’s original intention was to write a two-volume chronicle of the CIA of which Harlot’s Ghost was the first. The project was never completed.
For an enlarged version of the mind map of Harlot’s Ghost click http://editorial.designtaxi.com/news-outline1505/1big.jpg
For an enlarged version of J. K. Rowling’s plan of The Order of the Phoenix click http://editorial.designtaxi.com/news-outline1505/3big.jpg
To purchase a copy of Harlot’s Ghost click here.
To celebrate #BookLoversDay today we are turning to Erasmus, the fifteenth century Dutch humanist and theologian.
In 1489, he wrote in a letter a description of what he understood to be a lover of books. For him, what distinguished a book lover, is a need to integrate books in their daily lives such as one might food and drink. Ownership is not the point, what counts is continuity and familiarity:
“I consider as lovers of books not those who keep their books hidden in their store-chests and never handle them, but those who, by nightly as well as daily use them, thumb them, batter them, wear them out, who fill out all the margins with annotations of many kinds, and who prefer the marks of a fault they have erased to a neat copy full of faults.” ¹
¹ Letter to an unidentified friend in 1489 as translated in Collected Works of Erasmus. The Correspondence of Erasmus, Schoeck, R.J., and Corrigan, B, (University of Toronto Press), 1974, p. 114.
To read more about Desiderius Erasmus click here
According to The Economist Letterpress is making a comeback. This centuries old method of printing, whereby letters are pounded deep into the paper, is no passing fad for a new generation of artists, graphic designers and others accustomed to the world of digital print. They have “discovered” a printing process barely changed since its invention by Johannes Gutenberg in the mid-fifteenth century, and as a result are basking in the tactile and visual splendour that letterpress brings to their work. It’s a very far cry from the 1980s and 90s when photo-offset and computer printing deemed lead type redundant, and the only letterpress printing left standing were private presses whose handmade books were mostly aimed at bibliophiles.
So what accounts for this resurgence? Apparently, two factors. Firstly, digital fatigue and second and somewhat ironically, technology has made it easier to print letterpress than ever before. An apprentice need no longer spend years learning how to set metal type into rows as a computer design can be turned into a plastic printing plate. Thus, for both the hobbyist and the professional designer, letterpress, be it metal or plastic, is now the latest on-point tool. Those who are returning to letterpress are learning the fundamentals of typography; leading the charge are those trained in the visual arts, such as graphic designers, fine artists and illustrators.
Let’s have more of “what’s old is new”.
For an insight into the history and techniques of letterpress printing you can read Justin Knopp’s fantastic blog TypoReturn at http://blog.typoretum.co.uk/
He has his own letterpress printing business and is also involved in the conservation and restoration of old printing presses.
David Ogilvy CBE (1911-1999) was the doyen of advertising in America in the 1950s and 60s. Whilst his mother was Anglo-Irish, his father was a Gaelic-speaking Scottish Highlander. During the Second World War David Ogilvy worked for the British Intelligence Service at the British Embassy in Washington where he analysed and made recommendations on matters of diplomacy and security.
It was his reputation as a superb wordsmith and communicator on Madison Avenue that established him amongst his peers as the pre-eminent ad-man in America, and his ideas on effective writing and branding are still highly influential. The character of Don Draper in “Mad Men“ is loosely based on Ogilvy and another famous ad-man of the 1960s, Leo Burnett.
On one occasion Ogilvy crafted a memo for his employees at Ogilvy and Mather, identifying 10 “hints” on how to write for maximum clarity and precision:
“The better you write, the higher you go in Ogilvy & Mather. People who think well, write well. Woolly minded people write woolly memos, woolly letters and woolly speeches. Good writing is not a natural gift. You have to learn to write well.
1. Read the Roman-Raphaelson ¹ book on writing. Read it three times.
2. Write the way you talk. Naturally.
3. Use short words, short sentences and short paragraphs.
4. Never use jargon words like reconceptualize, demassification, attitudinally, judgmentally. They are hallmarks of a pretentious ass.
5. Never write more than two pages on any subject.
6. Check your quotations.
7. Never send a letter or a memo on the day you write it. Read it aloud the next morning – and then edit it.
8. If it is something important, get a colleague to improve it.
9. Before you send your letter or your memo, make sure it is crystal clear what you want the recipient to do.
10. If you want ACTION, don’t write. Go and tell the guy what you want.”
¹ How to Communicate Effectively in Business, Kenneth Roman and Joel Raphaelson. See: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Writing-That-Works-Communicate-Effectively/dp/0060956437/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332602643&sr=1-1
My parents’ house was full of books, thousands of them; and I have belonged to many public libraries in different countries. But two particular libraries shaped my mind more than any others. The first was in Villa Valverde, in Sicily, where I spent part of my childhood.
The Villa Valverde was a pensione which had been built by my paternal grandfather, Pancrazio Cipolla. He’d spent decades working in London hotels, rising from waiter to manager. He took his savings back to Taormina and built Valverde around 1910, as a luxurious retreat for British tourists. It had all mod cons, including a library of English books. These had all been supplied by a publisher who specialized in such things, and were in a uniform edition of brown leather with gold tooling, proudly stamped with the hotel name and crest. The books were all Victorian and masculine – Sir Walter Scott, Charles Kingsley, Conan Doyle, Fennimore Cooper and the like.
It was here I met Dracula, and Frankenstein’s monster, and Amyas Lee, and Sherlock Holmes and Natty Bumppo, and the ‘Man Who Would Be King.’ Rather heavy going, since I was not yet ten, but I swallowed it all down in huge draughts.
The second library was at my high school, when my peripatetic parents took us from Sicily to South Africa. It was in a decaying part of the school that has long since been knocked down (we used to spear rats there during break, with compasses tied to rulers). The collection itself was large, and consisted mainly of bequests from Old Boys, some of them dating back to Edwardian and Victorian times, and smelling strongly of tobacco and damp. No attempt had been made to catalogue or filter this heterogeneous collection. They were simply in alphabetical order according to author. In my six years there, I must have read almost every volume.
I lugged home bound editions of Punch dating from the 1850s to the First World War, which was where I began to pick up what little modern history I know (and developed a fondness for weak jokes.) I found, and read with wide eyes, Henry Miller (an education of a different kind), Colette (I had to ask my mother what a Lesbian was) and D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley (nothing left to the imagination there).
I read fusty old copies of Sheridan le Fanu, H. Rider Haggard, Sax Rohmer and Robert Louis Stevenson. I ploughed my way through novelists popular in the 20s, 30s and 40s: Sinclair Lewis (I must have read Kingsblood Royal a dozen times), Thornton Wilder, Edgar Wallace; Pearl S. Buck, John Steinbeck (I adored him), J.B. Priestly (very heavy going), Daphne du Maurier, A. J. Cronin, H.G. Wells (where I learned what socialism was); Robert Graves (also pretty hot stuff) and Somerset Maugham.
I read voraciously, sometimes a book a day. I read at night, under the sheets, with a flashlight, till two in the morning. I read on the bus to and from school. I read on the toilet and at the supper table. I read without even knowing why I read at times, so long as the words on the page held me.
A tenacious memory for useless things means that many of these books are still rattling around inside my head, and will surface at odd moments; or, what is worse, half-surface, and lead me a merry dance trying to recall which book and which author, in which library, in which country, in which year…
Marius Gabriel, our guest writer
Marius is the author of eight sagas and historical novels, including the best-sellers The Mask Of Time, The Original Sin, and The Seventh Moon. Cosmopolitan accused him of “Keeping you reading while your dinner burns”. Born in South Africa in 1954, he has lived and worked in many countries, and now divides his time between London and Cairo. He has three grown-up children.
His latest novel, The Ocean Liner is set post-Second World War and published by Lake Union, is available on Amazon or by placing an order with Marius via his website. His next book The Parisans is scheduled for publication later tihis year. You can view all of Marius’s book (and there are many) on his Wiki entry
You may also be interested to read Marius’s GoodReads page where he also writes a blog. If you like cooking Marius is the man for you. Baking bread being a speciality.
P.S. Marius served his author apprenticeship as a student at Newcastle University. To finance his postgraduate research, he wrote 33 Mills & Boon romances under a pseudonym. His identity as a man had to be kept secret until he turned to longer fiction under his own name.
The UK film industry has never been healthier. According to the British Film Institute an income of £1.6bn was generated from film and television production in 2016 with Rogue One and Fantastic Beasts leading the box office. Drama series like Wolf Hall and Downton Abbey continue to enthral viewers on both sides of the Atlantic, highlighting the wealth of acting and technical expertise for which the United Kingdom is renowned.
Generous tax breaks encourage investment into what is generally accepted as a high-risk industry. Film Tax Relief opens the door to big production companies who previously looked to foreign locations to meet their budgets.
The digital age has revolutionised both the way films are made and the demand for content. Netflix alone invested $3bn on media content in 2014, and plans to spend $6bn over the next three years. Good news indeed for the legion of screenwriters out there, hunched over keypads in dusty garret rooms, looking for a break. Competition is fierce. But the opportunities to pitch unsolicited work are considerable. From the BBC Writersroom to screenwriting contests like the Nicholl Fellowship, ¹ there are no end of resources out there, all on the look out for fresh talent.
You may, of course, wish to bypass the conventional route and make the film yourself. As an incentive to investors, HMRC offers tax relief of up to 50% under SEIS (Seed Enterprise Investment Scheme) Guidelines. Independent production companies can apply for Advanced Assurance, proving their legitimacy to third parties.
Through a chance meeting at a networking event, one such opportunity came my way. I had written a screenplay based on a real-life murder case from 1946, which had generated some interest locally in my home town of Bournemouth. A contact at the networking event introduced me to Martin Spooner, a finance facilitator who specialises in investment for film. I pitched the outline to him and, in August 2014 we agreed to meet.
Since then the project has grown in size and stature. In March 2015, we submitted a 26-page application to HMRC’s Compliance Department, and sat back to await their decision. Several weeks later, we received the good news that West Cliff Productions Ltd had been given Advanced Assurance – in other words, the green light to go out and seek investors.
From a humble writer’s point of view, all this is quite daunting. But the excitement of being involved in something as ambitious and enterprising as a film project far outweighs any reservations I might have.
And now to the screenplay …
Neville Heath was an ex-RAF pilot, hanged for murder in 1946. The case became the subject of huge media interest, with women queuing for up to 14 hours for a glimpse of the charismatic killer from the public gallery.
However, many questions remain unanswered to this day. Who was the real Heath, and what was his motivation for killing? How did he become, in the words of one biographer: “… the most dangerous criminal modern Britain has ever known”?
Such was Heath’s deadly appeal that film-making legend, Alfred Hitchcock, optioned a screenplay based on the case. Horrified at the leading character’s warped persona, studio bosses vetoed the project and the idea was abandoned. So, there you have it.
This is the film that Hitchcock never made!
Our guest writer, Adam Dickson
Adam was a student of Bill Stanton’s Writer’s Tutorial for several years, learning the craft of writing fiction. The Butterfly Collector was his first novel. Drowning by Numbers, his second was published in June 2013.
A lifetime fitness enthusiast, Adam suffered two massive brain seizures in 2003 and was left permanently disabled. In spite of this setback, he took up triathlon and began entering races, competing in Ironman UK in 2007. He co-authored Triathlon – Serious About Your Sport which was published by New Holland in May 2012.
Two more titles on swimming and cycling were published in March 2013. Adam has also written a book on mental health, Surfing the Edge – a survivor’s guide to bipolar disorder, which was published in 2015.
His screenplay, Heart of a Murderer, is based on a real-life murder case that caused a media sensation in England in 1946. Filming is scheduled in Bournemouth and London for Spring 2018.
You can discover more about the Neville Heath film here or email email@example.com
We have used Southampton-based printers Hobbs since 2008 for all our book projects and other print requirements.
It’s always a good feeling to know that people you like and admire are making their mark so we’re jolly happy to announce that our print partner was recognised with two Awards at the International Print Network’s Conference held in Cape Town, South Africa.
The first Award of the two was given for Hobbs’ development of a fully automated Article Reprint solution built for the Institute of Physics Publishing in Bristol. The Award recognised the complexity and intelligence of the solution that allows an academic audience access to over 600,000 articles and the ability to purchase multiple copies of those of interest.
The Institute of Physics Publishing’s Head of Production, Liz Martin, says of Hobbs’ accolade:
“The Hobbs team took a very pragmatic and practical approach to dealing with this complexity and were always proactive in their communication. They were a pleasure to deal with throughout … they were dedicated, solution focused and detail orientated; highlighting many aspects of the project that we had not previously considered.”
“Hobbs successfully delivered on a tight timescale and I am looking forward to working with them on the future development of this system.”
The second was the Outstanding Recognition Award presented to Graham Bromley, Hobbs’ Deputy Managing Operations Director, saluting his contribution to the IPN through management of the IPN Technical conferences and work of the IPN Board. Graham is one of 13 people who make up the Board of the IPN. Members are drawn from partners in the UK, Netherlands, USA, France, Canada and Singapore – a truly international group.
Want to know more about the high calibre work of Hobbs the Printers Ltd? Click here.