The Independent Stitch

Computer yes, computing no

Much silence here. I ordered, and have received, a replacement computer with the necessary operating system (the computer that went back to the mothership is still there; no news). However, I can't install several chunks of critical software, including the Adobe Creative Suite that lets me produce books. I am attempting installations, failing, and spending time on the phone with tech support.

Oh, and knitting. But I ripped the knitting back and have started over on that because I was about 5 yards shy of what I needed to complete the project. I'll have pictures some day.

Time to try another installation workaround. Hope everyone else's days are being more obviously productive right now than mine are.

I'm such a grump about editing (it's a terrific book anyway)

Okay, here's the short version: Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin, is well worth reading.

(There'd be a photo here, except that I still don't have a computer that lets me process photos. I hope to be back in the loop by the end of the week . . . the replacement machine is due on Wednesday, and then I can start putting my software tools back in place.)

And here's the long version: I'm an incredible grump about language usage, and Three Cups of Tea is a splendid book in spite of, rather than because of, the level of care it received in the editorial process.

The basic positives

Greg Mortenson is the subject of the book, which is told in third person (about Greg Mortenson) by writer David Oliver Relin, who did an excellent job of tackling and relating a complex story. Mortenson gave Relin access to vast quantities of information, and the freedom to portray the subject in all its human and political complexity. Relin, whose background in both writing and life experience made him a superb collaborator on this project, constructed a sound narrative structure, got the chapters to flow well into each other, and incorporated background  information efficiently when it was needed. The more challenging step called developmental editing was successfully navigated by the author either working solo or in conjunction with a conceptual adviser (most likely, in today's publishing climate, the former). For that: bravo.

The story is worth reading and the work for which Mortenson is the catalyst is some of the most valuable (and gutsy) being done on the face of the earth. There's a lot here about following instincts and having faith and being flexible and not giving up--all conveyed through examples, not platitudes. Read it to hear about someone else's one-step-at-a-time mission to make the world a better place. Read it for tips on how to keep going with your own one one-step-at-a-time mission to make the world a better place, whatever that mission may be. (Mine, for better or worse, is writing and publishing, mostly about traditional textile crafts.)

The language grump's two-bits' worth

It's too bad the publisher's editorial department didn't take slightly sharper pencils to some of the important minutiae of the manuscript.

If the editors had done a bit more thorough job, the reader would have been spared some imprecise word choices. I didn't mark them while I was reading, but here are a couple of examples, one relocated and one just remembered:

• An airport scene: "But the level of panic in the stale air was palpable, as inaudible voices echoed through the terminal, announcing delay after delay." (Page 98.) While palpable comes from a root that means "able to be touched," the word's meaning has expanded to mean "evident" in ways that are not directly tangible; that word choice is marginal. The word that blows that sentence completely away is inaudible. Something that's inaudible can't be heard. If something that's inaudible does echo, no one will notice. I think, therefore, that the inaudible announcement of delay after delay would not increase panic. I think one possible word that might have worked better where inaudible appears is unintelligible, although even then people would not react . . . if they didn't understand, how could they? And I wonder: was it really panic that the crowd was experiencing? Admittedly, it was Christmas and people wanted to catch flights to see relatives. But were they caught up in "sudden fear . . . causing hysterical or irrational behavior"? Or were they perhaps experiencing a mix of frustration, anxiety, anger, resignation, and, perhaps in a few, despair? I would have taken this sentence back to the drawing board. The version that was printed was what I call a "placeholder": good enough for a working draft, but not for the final description.
  
• A reference to "the tenants of Islam," when I think what was meant was the tenets (opinions, doctrines, or principles) and not the tenants (those who pay rent to occupy a space).

The editorial staff might also have cleaned up overwrought, and occasionally mixed, metaphors. They might have straightened out sentences where modifying phrases had slipped out of position. These peculiarities might have been given an editorial pass as quirks of the writer's style, and it does take longer to edit this way than it does to just hit the surface of the text with a blue pencil. However, I think it would have been worthwhile to pay this much attention to the manuscript. I had to read a number of sentences more than once to untangle them, and I found that the personification of mountains and sky, in particular, distracted me from the story instead of enhancing my understanding.

A solid proofreading would have caught a handful of minor glitches, mostly missing letters that  left in place actual words that were not the ones that needed to be there (like "you" instead of "your").

Imprecise words, awkward metaphors, and typographical errors do, alas, cloud meaning and distract the reader from the important information that's being presented. Inaccurate word selection can, in the worst cases, threaten the plausibility of the story being told. While this is not a "worst case," the narrative in Three Cups of Tea deserved, and still deserves, the absolutely highest standards of diction and clarity.

I'm sorry the editorial process did not provide that.

I don't hold the author accountable for these problems. Telling a story of this magnitude requires an extensive set of skills, which he obviously has. He almost certainly wrote under pressure from a deadline that did not permit a lot of reflection (although he managed that) or revision. He reached (and sometimes overreached) for ways to bring the landscape and the political and human forces to life on the page.

Someone who does that and produces an integrated and successful piece of work deserves the help of an editorial staff that will give the project an equal amount of dedicated attention. I'm sorry that didn't happen.

Great story . . . despite the editorial lapses

The title comes from a statement attributed to Haji Ali, the chief of the Pakistani village of Korphe, where Greg Mortenson built the first of many local projects to bring education and self-sufficiency to people in rural areas of Central Asia. As Haji Ali explained, "Here we drink three cups of tea to do business: the first you are a stranger, the second you become a friend, and the third, you join our family—and for our family we are prepared to do anything—even die."

Mortenson traveled to the area as a climber, intent on summitting K2. Due to some of the main problems that can occur in mountaineering, he didn't achieve that goal. He ended up lost on descent, spent a night in the open, and became "found" again in the village of Korphe. He vowed that he would come back to build a school.

He kept that vow, and continues with related work in both Pakistan and Afghanistan, including areas from which even Doctors without Borders has withdrawn its services because of the danger (following the killing of five of its aid workers).

If you haven't read the book, do. You won't regret it.

N.B.: I'm not perfect, either

It's true, I've been editing stuff for decades. It's also true that nothing I have ever shepherded into print has ever been perfect (no, wait, there was one magazine article that was perfect . . . it was in 1998 . . . ). And it's also true that the attention to detail that I consider appropriate has not always been the level of detail that my employers have thought was necessary. (I sidestep this problem now by working for myself.)

However, it's also true that the standard I'm describing is always the one I do my human best to grab hold of and hang onto.

Creativity and equipment failure

As I wrote the last two posts on the increasingly severe and frequent computer problems I've been having, I clicked the "creativity" category in addition to "publishing" and "web/tech." I knew it felt right to consider this discussion part of "creativity," although obviously I haven't been talking directly about creativity at all. Yet the critical topic for me is creativity: access to the tools that I need to do the work I have planned, on the one hand, and the need to use creative muscle to get through the logjams, on the other.

Faced with equipment failure or health challenges (or both, as I have been), I could shift directions and be creative in other ways, of course; that would involve abandoning massive amounts of work already done and commitments to other people. My preference is to stay the course.

We need materials and tools, and sometimes we are tied to deadlines and a change of activities will result in major consequences down the road.

I've just ordered a new computer. In terms of cash flow, the timing leaves a whole lot to be desired. In terms of work flow, the timing of not having access to adequate equipment is worse. Fortunately, I just need the box. I've got the monitor and all the other peripherals in place.

I spent some time online and found a computer that was in stock ("ships in 24 hours"), was just a box (i.e., did not require me to buy a whole system), has the appropriate capacity now and some expansion headroom for the future, runs the operating system that I need (no small matter in the current market and not available locally), and, while not budgeted for, was quite a good deal, looked at from a long-term perspective. While it's true that my secondary, not-quite-seven-year-old computer gives me access to e-mail and the web and some basic programs, it's also true that I click on Eudora to pick up my mail in the morning and then go do yoga and have breakfast and read the paper and it might have displayed the messages by the time I get back.

Running an independent publishing company and being a writer are challenging enough. Attempting to do these things without a fundamental set of tools, even for two weeks, is foolish. When the other computer returns, hopefully with all its so-called brain cells intact, it will be moved to a new role, upgrading the image-processing aspect of Nomad Press . . . i.e., it will replace my daughter's nine-year-old desktop with one that's only two years old and still under warranty.

One thought that came up during this overly extended ordeal was that I'd love to take a week or two and make a couple of artist's books. I'll need to keep that idea on the back burner . . . well, maybe in the pantry, to be pulled out later. Right now, I have deadlines. But I should be able to progress with plan-B work options for a few days and then . . . oh, start loading software and fonts again. But onto a different machine.

Meanwhile, I'm looking forward to being able to process photos again. . . .

Computer returns to mothership

There are no pictures today. I don't know when there will be pictures again, although the camera is fine.

The primary business computer has just been boxed up and sent back to the manufacturer. I have learned what on-site tech support means: if the problem can be diagnosed from a distance and requires that an "expert" wield the screwdriver (e.g., replacement of motherboard), then an "expert" with a screwdriver will come here with the part and do that piece of work. If the problem cannot be diagnosed from a distance through the phone support system, the computer has to be shipped across the country for diagnostics. It travels ground and will likely be gone between 10 and 14 days.

I am not exactly sure how to run a business in the interim. I do have the old computer still hooked up—it regularly handles mail and web access—but it cannot manage the business-specific software. That's why I bought the other computer.

The problem at this point may be with:

1. video card
2. processor
3. motherboard
4. voltage issue

Today, working with two different phone support people, Harold and Nancy, I ran it through Stress Prime 2004 (again). It's called a "torture test" for the CPU. It can also test RAM, although we didn't use that version. Harold also had me download a program from Microsoft's web site and burn it to CD, and said when I called back we'd do something with it, but Nancy didn't know about that. I think that was supposed to test the RAM, but we've swapped RAM in and out since October, with no change in the erratic behavior.

The computer did come up with a few new tricks today. I still can't package a document in InDesign. However, in setting up to attempt to do that again I re-installed the font management software and prepared a set of fonts pertinent to the book I'm working on. Font management software is for people who keep many, many fonts on their machines. It lets us activate and deactivate fonts as we need them, so they're not using up system resources.

Anyway, there were 21 fonts in this set, which is a working set, not a final (it also doesn't include fonts that I keep activated because I use them very frequently). The fonts were things like:

    Arrows: Right, Left, Up, Down   
    Dingbats
    FFDingbests
    Gill Sans Standard: Regular, Italic, Bold, Bold Italic
    LTC Goudy Sans: Hairline, Regular, Italic, Bold, Light, Light Italic
    LTC Vine Leaves
    Okey Dokey NF
    P22 Chai Tea Pro
    P22 Tulda OT
    TF Neue Neuland Ornaments

When I opened the InDesign file, the system found the fonts it needed but could not locate the links (the images). So I spent about an hour fixing the link problems. I tried to package; the program failed. This forces it to close.

Next time I opened the document, it couldn't find the fonts OR the links. I fixed the links (not the fonts) and tried to package. Nope.

I forget exactly when in here I took a look at the font management software to do something other than just check that my set was activated. I went and looked at the fonts in the set. They were now things like:

    Bauhaus Light
    Bauhaus Bold
    Adobe Janson: Regular, Italic, Bold, Bold Italic
    . . . .

They were still fonts, but they had no relationship to what I'd selected. It was a random collection, and none of the fonts is used in any of my current projects (although yes, they are loaded on the computer in case I want to use them). And none of them was a font that was used in the document I was testing.

At this point, the malfunctioning software on this system included:

•     Adobe InDesign
•     Adobe Illustrator
•     Microsoft Word
•     ACT! 2008
•     Windows Updater
•     Bounceback Professional
•     FontAgent Pro

And the tech support person came back on the line after consulting someone elsewhere (several consultations today with someone elsewhere) and said, "We have other customers who have problems with InDesign and Microsoft Vista. Have you contacted Adobe about this issue?"

Me:"I'm not running Vista. I'm running XP Pro. The problem is not only with InDesign. I am using InDesign to test the system because it's the most important of my tools. All of this software has worked in the past. There is something seriously wrong here and the problem is not with the application software."

(Even though they have been performing a "torture test" on the owner and operator for five full days, I did not raise my voice. I think that's rather remarkable. The CPU didn't overheat and shut down while undergoing Stress Prime 2004, and I didn't overheat and explode while undergoing Stress Subprime 2008.)

After consulting again, they decided they needed to look at the computer. In Miami.

Good things:

1. The manufacturer is paying the shipping both ways. (It's not paying for packing, and of course I don't have the enormous original box any more.)
2. When I almost dropped the machine as I transported it to FedEx Kinko's for packing and shipment and the wind whipped the prepaid label out of my hand and toward six lanes of traffic, a woman coming out of Kinko's stabilized the computer while I chased the label. (Not working = their problem. Broken = my problem.)
3. When Kinko's didn't have the appropriate box (which they had described to me when I called ahead), one of the staffers helped me carry the computer back out to the car so I could take it to another Kinko's that they had called to be sure the right box was there. (The wind tried to remove the prepaid label AGAIN and take it out into the same six lanes of traffic . . . there has been a lot of gusty wind today.)
4. Although the other Kinko's is in a construction zone that has limited most access routes, it was possible to get there.
5. At the other Kinko's, another customer offered to hold the door for me when I carried the machine inside, so I didn't have to hit the handicapped access button with my foot as the staff suggested, and even closed the back of my car for me.
6. The computer is no longer in my office and I trust that I will not be spending the next five days either on the phone with tech support or doing things to the computer so we can test the next thing during the next call.

These are all very good things.

Now. Can I get done what I need to get done in the next almost-two-weeks with a seven-year-old computer onto which I can't load my most important software? Or can I figure out how to get a substitute computer in here and properly configured?

Things I will have to do without until I answer those questions:

•     Adobe InDesign CS2
•     Adobe Photoshop CS2
•     Adobe Illustrator CS2
•     Adobe Acrobat CS2
•     Quickbooks Pro
•     AnyBook (publishing order- and inventory-management software)

I can probably install on the old computer:

•     Remote-access software and security keys for checking distributor's inventory
•     Sweater Wizard
•     Knit Visualizer
•     Old version of Photoshop (ah! there's a cheerful thought! I still have the old version . . . maybe I can do pictures! . . . I have GIMP, but I don't find it easy to use for my routine tasks)

The old machine already runs Microsoft Office 2003, so I haven't lost that. I'll need to move the laser printer back onto to the old system, though.

Anybody who has an IT department that does its job well, this is what those folks are saving you from. You might want to bring them flowers or chocolate or something.

I look forward to being able to talk about knitting and publishing and fun things again.

THUD.

Well, I did not slow down and rest soon enough, much as I was trying to. I've been down with a cold for more than a week. A few things have gotten done; I did meet a deadline, but the work was 99 percent complete, and that was extremely fortunate because I only had to do stuff I can do with a mild, persistent headache and no oomph. I've read a bunch of books, which I'll talk about when I can process photos again (computer problems), and have watched at least one excellent movie.

The documentary Murderball was recommended to me almost exactly a year ago by, as I recall, Richard Cabe, who carves stone into wonderful forms, and Susan Tweit, who writes magically. Susan and Richard have restored a bit of industrial wasteland, making it into a bit of heaven that I got to visit last year when Donna Druchunas and I drove up into the mountains to give a presentation in a library (both of us), a workshop (Donna), and a couple of appearances in some high school classes (me). If it wasn't St. Patrick's Day weekend, it was just before or after. My calendar's not accessible right now.

My daughter has not wanted to watch Murderball . . . there's always another movie she'd rather see. So I asked her to bring it from the library for me when I knew she'd be out teaching fencing and I'd be home working on getting well instead of working at my desk. Her interest has been piqued now that I've seen it and told her more about it.

 Murderball is about quad rugby—a sport played by quadriplegics in specially constructed wheelchairs—but it's not a sports movie. It's a people movie. Well, yeah, it's a sports movie, But as Roger Ebert said in his 2005 review, linked above, "Although the sports scenes are filled with passion and harrowing wheelchair duels, the heart of the movie is off the court." It would be good preparation for the 2008 Paralympics. (Turns out there's also wheelchair fencing in the Paralympics. . . .)

As I've regained some energy, I've been working to resolve the ongoing computer problems, in large part because now the software refuses to prep a book file to go to press, which means the whole system is useless for an absolutely critical task. It's a good thing I haven't needed to send anything to press recently, but because I'm a publisher that's a rare and unusual situation and not one that can be counted on to last long. In this case, all I wanted to do was get a complete, neat, and tidy backup. In InDesign, which is usually my favorite piece of software, you can do that by "packaging" the document, which is one of the critical things that you do (in addition to preparing a set of specialized PDF files) when it's time to send a project to press.

But the software wouldn't package the book. It hasn't been willing to package a book since some time last fall. I can put together backups manually, and have been doing so since mid-December, but "will not package a document" is not a problem I can afford to have in a month or so. In fact, it's amazing I've made it this far with a tool of this magnitude—the layout software—broken to this extent.

Finally it occurred to me that the problem might not be with the layout software, even though I certainly thought it was and have had similar problems in the past and have noodled my way around them.

Yet if, over the course of about six months, you've experienced problems, from tiny to massive, that have affected at least four major application programs from a variety of sources, it might occur to you, while lying in bed looking at the ceiling and spending hours pitching compressed tissues at a wastebasket, that the problems could be the fault of something other than the individual pieces of application software just behaving bizarrely all independently.

In Illustrator, I sometimes lose (and cannot regain) the ability to alt-drag a symbol to duplicate it . . . which is really, really important to be able to do if you are making knitting charts. This has been happening since late last summer. I've been working around it, grumbling.

During October, InDesign began to have trouble displaying the laid-out pages. I thought this was because I'd begun using Illustrator files for the charts. I mean, the message I got said "out of memory." I thought that was what it was. I increased the RAM, and this helped somewhat, but not as much as it should have.

Yet since at least December, InDesign, as I mentioned, has not been able to package a document. It starts, but it never gets beyond about 20 percent on checking the links.

In mid-January, ACT! quit working and I totally lost the ability to open and use my address-book database. Gone, all access to phone numbers, addresses, and other pretty important information.

In February, I discovered that in Word, I can put highlighting on text, but I cannot remove it. And I can't access the "insert symbol" function.

Now in March I've been experiencing all of these problems, and I've tried everything I can think of. I've installed even more RAM in an attempt to get the packaging process to work (RAM capacity now maxed). I've uninstalled and reinstalled the application software, created new files, removed all extraneous data, and broken down big files into collections of small files, to see whether a smaller file would not invoke the problem or whether I might be able to isolate an offending image or other link that might be causing the hang-up. I've mostly done this type of experimentation with ACT! and InDesign, since those have been the places I've seen the biggest (although not necessarily the most annoying) glitches.

____

Possibilities, according to tech support:

1. RAM failure. (Already changed RAM. Problem persists.)
2. Corruption in operating system.
3. Incipient hard-drive failure.

Below is one of the exciting views that you will get to enjoy for quite a long time if you choose to wipe everything off your hard drive and reformat it (that's what's happening here . . . thrillingly entertaining) in preparation for re-installing the operating system from scratch:

So I did that. EVERYTHING gone from the hard drive: operating system (OS), applications, documents. Total brain-wipe. Reformat. Twice, for reasons I am currently forgetting. This took a while, and several bouts of booting from the Windows recovery CD while hitting the F10 key repeatedly (several times a second for multiple minutes) while the files were loading in order to access some menu that apparently can't be reached another way, or reliably that way.

Then I installed the OS. Then I installed the most basic drivers, the ones for things like the chipset and the graphics card. Then I ran checkdisk (CHKDSK) to see if the hard drive is okay (apparently yes). Then I installed more drivers, for things like the printer and the Wacom tablet. Then I started installing the application software again.

It takes a long time to re-install major software programs. After you install each of them from the original CDs, the newly installed stuff insists on retrieving massive update files from the web and letting them install (which repeatedly requires restarting the computer). Getting the operating system, Microsoft Office, and Adobe Creative Suite reinstalled and correctly updated (with security patches and bug fixes) takes a very, very long time. These incremental updates happen about once a week under normal operation and they're not a big deal. When you start back from the baseline again, they are a big deal.

It's also necessary for the operator to re-register each piece of software (look up long strings of characters and digits and key them in, then wait for the computer to connect to the net and confirm that yes, this entity still has a legal right to use this software). Fortunately, I've got a good organizing process for software and hardware additions to the system, and I have no problem actually finding the original installation disks and the registration codes. That's a blessing.

Late this afternoon, when I hadn't quite gotten to the point of reinstalling the fonts (fortunately backed up in a way that makes them relatively easy to put back in place), and definitely before I'd even begun to think about getting any real work done. . . .

The system started hanging again.

On attempting to install a piece of software, I was stuck for more than ten minutes with a message that said "checking space requirements." (I have to look at the screen during these reinstalls because most of them won't proceed if unattended. They keep wanting minimal but essential operator input. Windows open that you have to click buttons in or the whole process stops. I can knit a little bit on something simple. I can't read or do anything else.) When I tried to close down the installation with "cancel," nothing changed. When I opened Windows task manager and chose "end task," it wouldn't. Some additional auxiliary program I'd never heard of also wouldn't shut down with "end task," although about twenty minutes after the request it did, suddenly (I'd gone off to have dinner). And then the regular shutdown screen with "saving your settings" appeared but it sure took a lot of time for the setting-saving . . . .after a good thirty minutes of no change. . . .

I decided that enough was enough. Time for emergency action. I held down the power button until the system shut down and the screen went black.

And I drove to a coffeehouse and ordered a mug of green tea. I could fix myself tea at home, but I needed to be elsewhere. There's 24-hour phone tech support for the computer, which is still under warranty with on-site service (although I have no idea what good this is), and the folks I've talked with this week have spoken pretty good, if accented, English (Daniel, Stephanie, and Eric), but sometimes it's good not to call while you still feel like dropping the computer in a frozen lake.

A night's sleep may help . . . if it doesn't help the computer, it might at least help the person who juggles the CDs and pitches wadded-up tissues and just wants to get back to doing something that feels productive, like real work.

Maybe the next book I'll publish will be hand-lettered with India ink, and there will only be one copy, bound with handspun silk thread with marbled endpapers and a hand-embroidered cover.

And now I am thinking of Annie Tremmel Wilcox's A Degree of Mastery: A Journey through Book Arts Apprenticeship, which is a far better thing to be occupying my brain with than a recalcitrant computer.

Powering down for today.

Copyright infringement, another opinion: Should we independents "retire" in defeat?

I've received another comment to which I was composing a too-long response, so it's turning into a post of its own.

The topic is copyright infringement and the comment came in on this post.

Here's Michelle's comment:

Ladies, as much as I understand your frustration I wish to respond in a way that is not as supportive as other entries on this page. I am sorry to say that technology is going to grow with or without you. Anyone who expects a business to be protected against website publishing is probably around retirement age. If properly blanketed by a solid, reputable publisher the chances of protection are closer to a guarantee. Perhaps you should invest more time in researching publishers rather than letting everyone know something they already do. We know you have to eat and we know how unfair people can be. Move with the times or retire gals.

And here's my reply:

Hi, Michelle:

The problem is not "website publishing" but stealing of copyrighted material, whether intentional or not.

As a publisher, I have choices about how to present the information that I make available to other people. I publish this primarily through print media, although I certainly evaluate my options on an ongoing basis and have been considering electronic delivery for some future projects.

At present, print still seems like the best way to provide knitting-related information of any length and complexity.

Making the material available exclusively electronically (which I assume is part of what you mean by "technology is going to grow with or without you") would obviate many difficulties of the current print-publishing system, including freight costs, damages and returns, and the other inefficiencies and expenses of today's book distribution, which is, frankly, not in step with the times at all. However, it is a reality as much as is the technology of electronic communication.

Electronic books are not yet easy to read for extended text, and the equipment to display many of the currently available formats is still financially out of many people's reach. PDFs can be displayed on standard computers, to which many people do have access. However, computer-only display of books means the text isn't as portable as a traditional book—no reading on buses or subways, in bed, and so on; even laptops are not yet noticeably convenient in these locations. I think that most readers would consider it an imposition (and not very satisfactory) to have to print out and make some sort of binding for their own copies of books that are several hundred pages long, and that's what they'd have to do to get the flexibility of a bound book from an electronic delivery system. In addition, electronic distribution doesn't solve the problem of piracy, and may make it worse.

I obviously think that not publishing the books that I do would be a loss for the knitting and spinning community, or I wouldn't be doing it, but perhaps that's my personal delusion.

Then again, I'm far from alone. A number of knitting designers (who are not publishers but writers and providers of patterns) are struggling with issues similar to those faced by publishers like me: how best to deliver the information, how best to get paid for the work that gets done to create and present the information. If these problems don't get solved, then these sources of material will dry up. The people who are writing, designing, and publishing (through our own efforts or through association with others) will find a different kind of work to do.

What you are saying, as I understand it, is that the only people who should be publishing books (or providing pattern designs, and so on) are those who are well-funded enough to have a flotilla of lawyers at their command. That goes against a lot of ideas I care a great deal about—including free speech and free enterprise and being able to choose to work in a basement that I own rather than a cubicle that someone else does.

I know I'm paraphrasing you, but this is what I am hearing in your message: "Life's not fair. No one should act unless that person has lots of money to defend him or herself. Also, you must be old and you should retire." Each of these declarations, whether true or not, misses the point of the primary issue under discussion.

I don't think the problems of copyright infringement have anything to do with age. Young or old, creative people need food, shelter, and clothing, just like corporate drones do. It does sound like you want us all to be corporate drones or to leave the workforce entirely. I put the word "retire" in quotes in the title of this post because "retire" isn't an option for most of the people I know who are doing this work. We need to work for a living, so our only "retirement" would be from doing work that we are unusually qualified to do, and that would not be an age-related decision. I suspect that some of the older people in this field may be active on matters of copyright protection not only for their own sake but also in order to protect future options for the younger folks. And while you address the group as "ladies," not everyone implicated by these issues is female.

Life's unfair—you're right. And no one here has asked it to be.

Yet unfairness may run rampant if we don't name it, and people won't stop doing things that are unfair—or wrong, or illegal—unless and until we do some acknowledging and some educating. When you say "technology is going to grow with you or without you," you may also mean that we should not bother to do whatever is in our power to increase the amount of fairness in the world. Unfair behavior won't go away completely no matter what we do, but simply to succumb to unfairness by saying that nothing can be done about it is defeatist. Inaction also has long-term, serious, negative consequences.

Your statement suggests that "solid, reputable publishers" are either immune to piracy or better able to protect themselves from it. I assume, because of the context of this discussion, that by "solid, reputable publishers" you do not mean the independents but you do mean the imprints of the conglomerates. It is not true that they are immune to piracy, and they may be even less able to protect themselves in some ways. Although the bigger publishers may have lawyers on staff (some do), they also have more titles to keep track of. And if the editors at those corporations cannot produce P&Ls (profit-and-loss statements) that come out in the black more often than not, then their publishing wings will be clipped as well. Those editors, the creative spirits of the publishing houses where they work, will be required to do something else. The big publishers' P&Ls are affected by copyright infringement, as are the P&Ls of the smaller publishers.

Then again, maybe the ability to create new ideas and to share them through publication and to earn a living or a partial living for one's effort doesn't matter—maybe it doesn't matter to you, and maybe it doesn't even matter to human cultural heritage as a whole.

I think it does, and I'm willing to take a stand for it.

The truly positive news that has come out of the discovery of illegally scanned books' availability on the internet is that there are people who would like to have access to this information who apparently cannot obtain it easily and legally. I'd love to find a solution to that problem, whether the fix is electronic or physical. I'm all about supporting creativity, whether of those who provide information or those who use it to spur their own unique projects.

I think that every one of us stands on both sides of that gate from time to time. The trick is in making sure we can see over to the other side, regardless of where we're standing at the moment.

Deb

R & R (& R? M?): Reading, rest, and . . .

Sometimes I just need to stop. That's usually when the workload seems impossible and both spirit and body begin to flag.

Reading helps. Acting as if I were sick helps (staying on the couch or in bed, napping, doing all the things that I'd do if I were really sick, although usually for many fewer days than if the bug caught on for real). I'm usually reminded to do this sort of thing by "start of a cold" signals, which I've been dealing with. And I need to sing in a concert this Friday, so it's a bad time to actually succumb (as if there were a good time).

So I rested all weekend (and should be still; I'm attempting to go at half-speed).

And I read: The Fresco, by Sheri S. Tepper, recommended by my daughter, and The Cuckoo's Egg: Tracking a Spy through the Maze of Computer Espionage, by Clifford Stoll. The first is a science fiction novel, and I enjoyed it. It's complex, with decent characterization and intriguing plot twists. The second is an older book (1989) about tracking computer hackers ("hackers" in the negative sense) that's still relevant and interesting. It was even more of a cliffhanger to read than The Fresco.

I also knitted a bit on the variant I'm making of Evelyn Clark's Landscape shawl, in gifted-to-me Textiles A Mano yarn:

The parenthetical R? or M? in the title of this post is about the felted catnip mice from Donna Druchunas' Kitty Knits, which are about to be shipped to their new homes. They've been delayed by the need to knit and felt two more (the green ones) and a slight delay to determine (as far as I can tell) whether anyone is likely to get in trouble if I ship catnip across the U.S. border (I don't think so, but section 138 of the International Mail Manual tells me I can ship live bees or fully desiccated lizards, and explains how to pack eggs for mailing; it's okay to send live leeches, too . . . oh, and silkworms . . . that might actually be useful). The mice will need to be mailed directly from the post office and I want to get them all in one trip.

The felting, by the way, has taken place through the highly controlled and scientific method of throwing knitted-and-assembled-but-not-stuffed mouse forms in the washer and dryer with a load of towels and jeans. The two green mice were in a different load than the first six and felted a bit smaller and more tightly. When I saw them, I wondered if the first batch were really Rattus spp., but I have known some rats (white) and the profiles are not rat-like. So I think they are just big Mus spp. Fuzzy rodents, regardless. Of a friendly, useful, and nondestructive species, in this case.

I suspect the green mice will be a bit tougher than the less firmly felted versions, so I've reserved them for two cat-recipients in particular: my mother's formerly feral kit (who may or may not be interested . . . he needs to learn to play, instead of attacking her furniture and rugs) and Mr. A., who is notorious for fiber-destructive tendencies. With Mr. A., the sturdier mouse may last a few seconds longer than one of the others.

___

A friend has just told me that the essay I wrote quite a while ago for the NPR-based "This I Believe" project has just turned up in "The Essay Shuffle" on the "This I Believe" web site. I thought that piece of writing had dropped into the deep, dark crater of oblivion. Apparently not. With luck, the first link (to my essay) will still work when the shuffle moves on to other people's essays.

Publishing: Will work for stickers

We've learned that Ethnic Knitting Discovery by Donna Druchunas is a finalist in the 2007 ForeWord Book of the Year Awards competition! The cover gets to wear a sticker now:

Last year, Donna's Arctic Lace won the silver award in the same competition, and Spinning in the Old Way by Priscilla Gibson-Roberts won the bronze. In other words, Nomad Press knitting books won two of the three top prizes in the Crafts and Hobbies category of the competition sponsored by ForeWord Magazine, the periodical dedicated to independent publishing.

We were pleased then, and we're pleased now. The 2007 winners will be announced at BookExpo America in Los Angeles in June. Although Nomad is usually represented at BEA, this year I'll be here, working to meet deadlines.

Celebrating early and often. . . .

Knitting progress, simple but still progress: socks, chenille, new shawl

Sometimes simple knitting progress is all I can expect (or hope for?).

So far, 2008 has been a humdinger. I've written about a few of the reasons here, but there are others. I'm doing my best not to think about them right now.

As one example, though, before I forcibly turn my attention elsewhere to preserve my sanity, we just finished doing our 2007 tax returns. The Internal Revenue Service is doing okay from my publishing efforts. I think (I don't really want to look, because I don't want to know this for sure) that the IRS is making more money from our efforts than the four authors and publisher combined. (The illustrators get paid up front, so their income doesn't ride on sales.) The publisher (that's me) does have a garage full of books in lieu of income. The idea is that these books will turn into income, but at the moment they're just boxes of books. The IRS won't let publishers deduct printing costs as expenses on a tax return until the books sell, so the government counts the inventory re-stocking as "income" and charges taxes on it, even though piles of books are not much use for paying bills (including the printing bills, by far the largest bills I have and which also get paid up front, so the printers' income doesn't ride on sales, either . . . just the authors' and the publisher's).

The good news is that we've just reprinted three books—Ethnic Knitting Discovery, Knitting in the Old Way, and Spinning in the Old Way—so we have a good stash for a while. If we need to reprint, then it must mean that books are selling, right? So some time we should have some income, right? (Payments for book sales are delayed by 30, 60, 90, 120, or 365 days, depending on the account to which they are sold, so it's hard to mentally connect income to sales. . . . This business operates on a lot of faith, guts, and hard work. . . .)

Moving right along to knitting. . . . Apologies for the funky photos; this morning the choice was "funky" or "nothing."

Here's the cotton chenille cardigan for my acupuncturist, creeping toward the finish line:

I haven't seamed the sleeves because I wanted to try it on her and make sure it fit first. It does. She wanted simple; it's simple. The color's great on her. It would not be great on me! There's no pattern. I'm making it up, based on what she's described that she wants.

HALLELUJAH! I finished the socks I started in . . . October. That's way too long to be working on one pair of socks, and yes, I got tired of them. They'll come in handy and I will like them again. But for now, I'm going to put them in a drawer until I happen across them and they feel new again. There was no pattern for them, either, just my usual Simple Socks process, with a 3/1 rib to keep the ribbing from breaking up the color in the yarn too much on the leg portion. Toe up.

I note by going back to find out whether I really did start those socks that long ago that I was also working on the massive gauge swatch for the chenille sweater in October. My knitting has been feeling too much like delayed gratification. The publishing business is that way and there's nothing I can do about it. Oh. I just realized I was also dealing with computer malfunctions in October that are better but have not been completely resolved yet. Wow, these things drag on. It's a wonder I haven't pitched the computer out the window. Oh, right. I work in a basement. I'd have to heave it UP and out. Too hard.

With knitting, I have a bit more control. Sometimes.

So I chose to begin work on something new and completely different. Not the lovely alpaca shawl that I started last year and that's still in about the same shape it was in then. Nor any of the perhaps dozen other things I've started and then set down, longer ago than last year.

No, I needed something completely fresh. It needed to be interesting and fun to knit, but not too demanding, because my brain is semi-fried by all the other things going on.

My new project is at the upper left right [oy] in that photo with the Almost Endless Socks: it's another Evelyn Clark design, the Landscape shawl, one I'd picked up the pattern for a while ago although it had seemed too simple for my previous knitting needs. It's perfect for now. Since it's a product of Evelyn Clark's mind, it is so nicely thought out that it is both simple and elegant, not only in what it will produce but in the path it takes to get there. The design has a sweet rhythm and enough routine to be comfortable and enough variety not to be boring. Thanks, Evelyn! (Whom I look forward to visiting with in person some day.)

The yarn is a gift from a friend. It's from her stash. I'm ever so grateful. The colors and texture are just what I need right now. . . . It's by Textiles A Mano, devised by Laura Macagno-Shang. I don't know, nor do I care right now, exactly which yarn it is, but I think it's Sanibel, custom-dyed. It looks and feels like it's predominantly rayon. It's nice on the needles and on the eyes.

I've made one modification in the pattern: a mistake turned into a design feature. Evelyn's shawl has picots along its edges, worked on two out of every four rows. I was tired when I began the shawl and ended up misreading the pattern and working the little frills on every row. When I discovered my error (on about row 8), I decided I liked what was happening and did not want to rip, even though it will take more yarn, and more time, to work twice as many bumps along the edges. There's been too much ripping throughout my life lately, of knitting and other things. The extra bits are fun to knit; doing them on EVERY row means there's one less thing for me to keep track of (a very good thing right now); and I think I will like the slightly weighted edge on the finished shawl.

How big will the shawl be?

Dunno. I'll knit until I am close to running out of yarn, then figure out some finishing sequence that looks intentional, based on the course Evelyn Clark has laid out for me in her pattern. She's like the scout or guide for this knitting trip I'm taking (or maybe the lifeguard, considering I've been feeling like I've been either bushwhacking or drowning for the past several weeks). My guess is that I'll end up with something between her shawl and her scarf dimensions. If I'm feeling like it, I might play with the shaping she uses on the long edge of her scarf, but since I want to use all of this yarn and I don't want to run out halfway through the shaping process, I'll probably keep it simple.

And then maybe knit another one.

But one thing at a time. (Those who know me may laugh loudly here.)

Blog tour: Kitty Knits, with a guest appearance by our ancient cat

Donna Druchunas has a new book out from Martingale Press: Kitty Knits: Projects for Cats and Their People. I'm part of the blog tour, and we've been asked to talk about our cats. Ms. Bit will thus be making quite an appearance in a moment, but right now here's what the book looks like, and I have a small story to tell about how part of it came together.

As Nomad Press, I publish some of Donna's books—those that are on traditional and ethnic knitting and that don't (so far) require color printing. (Nomad may be able to do color in the future, but currently doesn't for both environmental and financial reasons. So we're glad to see Donna's work that needs color coming out from other presses.)

Anyway, that lovely pink sweater on the cover was threatened with not being in the manuscript for this book, for several reasons. So I ended up helping Donna tech edit the pattern (she was at one of those "I'm tired of looking at this" stages we all reach) and then, when the project was at risk of being cut because time was running out and there was no model garment, I volunteered to knit the body. Another knitter did the sleeves, and Donna assembled the pieces and added the trim and embroidery. It's not at all my style or color of sweater, which made it fun to knit.

It's nice to see it (1) finished and (2) looking so fine there on the cover.

For the work, Donna swapped me a outdated but still perfectly useful digital camera so I could play with getting this blog started. I've since gotten a different camera that doesn't store its images on 3.5-inch diskettes, but by being able to use that one (which Donna's husband Dom used to take the Alaska photos for Arctic Lace ) I learned that I did like doing the pictures and the blog.

Here's another project from the book, being modeled by Donna's older cat:

And, finally because the Empress of the Universe always gets star billing, here is our 20.75-year-old cat, Little Bit (who was named before we had any way to know she would stay small, which she certainly did):

She's checking out a half-dozen of the felted mice from Kitty Knits. The purple one must have run out of the photo.

Here are all the mice the day before, in unfelted and unstuffed form:

They're made from leftover scraps of Brown Sheep wool, Cascade 220, and Lion Brand Lion Wool. (Are they a quick knit? I didn't have time to make a phone call this week to schedule an essential appointment, but in bits of time that were otherwise semi-occupied, I made these six mice. I threw them in the washer with a load of towels, dumped the whole lot in the dryer, and what came out is what you see, now stuffed and catnipped. They don't have eyes or noses yet, but they will.)

Want one of these mice for your cat? If you're one of the first six people to request one in the comments, I'll send you one. Let me know if you have color preferences, although I can't guarantee first choices (pink, red, white, greenish-heather, bright blue, purple). 3/3/08 All six have been spoken for! If you missed the opportunity, they are really quick to knit from Donna's instructions. The shaping is great. They'd be a super project to teach someone techniques with, too (you or someone else).

Ms. Bit likes the mice, but prefers to harrass the dogs. Due to her advanced age, she gets away with more than she used to. She confuses Tussah:

by coming in right under the dog's nose to eat the Wrong Kind of Chow:

Tussah has been taught not to growl, with reassurances that there is plenty more chow for everyone. Note the gray-sock-clad toe tipping the bowl at the perfect angle in BOTH photos. That isn't me.

The fluff on the carpet and the piles of papers and books are, however, my fault. I'm in the middle of yet another project with impossible deadlines. It got a little messier than usual around here last weekend.

The Empress was not, however, inconvenienced, so all was well.

Naptime.