One of the best moments in working on beautiful illustrated books is when you see the final product.
When you’re an editor and/or proofreader, you only see the project at certain stages. You can visualise the final book in your imagination, but even when you’ve worked on the proofs it’s a fantastic surprise actually seeing the published book itself.
I’m always in awe of the work of the writer(s), designer, photographer and others, and grateful to have been a part of that team. And I give thanks to the publishing gods that people continue to collaborate and make big, sumptuous books!
Tactile books have been around for a long time. They’re fantastic objects for introducing the magical world of books to very young children who are blind or visually impaired. You can read about the Tactile Book Advancement Group here, and about how to make fabric tactile books here. You can also find out more here about Vision Australia’s Feelix Library. It’s a great Braille book library for children who are blind or have low vision.
It’s Anzac Day today, and here’s a postcard written in February 1915 in Cairo, 99 years ago.
I’ve had this card with me for years, and it’s lovely to share it with you now. I hope that George (the writer) and Elsie (the recipient) are smiling kindly, somewhere under a sky full of blue, at being remembered this way.
And here’s George’s message to Elsie, on the back.
George’s words to Elsie echo what we all write on postcards when we’re far from home and, at that very moment, can’t think what on earth to write about!
They also burn with his need to hear from his loved ones, his longing to know what they’re up to and that they’re thinking of him. It was a common theme with troops stationed so far away from home. Continue reading →
(Members of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities are respectfully advised that a person in a photograph in this post has passed away.)
Researching online can be a bit like taking off on a magic carpet ride.
There’s that sense of wonder at clicking on a website and easily navigating your way to a masterpiece. You can zoom in on the details of brushstrokes, handwriting, gesture. You get to see works that you may never see otherwise.
More prosaically, it certainly helps me to look at artworks closely when I’m editing a text describing them!
Do you ever get used to visiting a digitised treasure chest? I still feel like a genie’s spread the wishes of the world before me: a wealth of treasures … famed works at my fingertips … the power of creativity, right there on screen …