Last time, the time before, I spent a good few sentences throwing my weary arms up about the never-ending nature of January, and now, it seems that I can begin to look at those thirty-one days from over my shoulder, safely, barely.
I think it will require a few weeks of distance; many of the people I know have felt fairly battered by January—a storm of the beastly sort, weather managing to get in through closed windows, or a dust that will not settle, able to see the shadows which grace everything, straining to notice the earlier and earlier rising of the sun, its later sinking; imperceptible, almost. Over-thought thoughts, under-thought thoughts, both of these seemed to saturate the beginning of this year—people attempting to orientate themselves amidst the heavy, complicated events shown to them, the ones they open the door to, that need to be lived alongside.
But then small green plants are able to grow up through snow, the caretaker of the building wishes someone a Happy Friday as they enter the elevator, and for that briefest of moments, all of humanity is made gentle.
WORK-RELATED NEWS:
1. This past week the team at Penguin received some early covers of Eating the Sun from the printer, and consequently I will also be receiving one soon (this is an unfathomable and thrilling prospect, one that sits resting in the middle of my tongue). I'm told that the blacks within the design are especially good-looking, that the yellow of the sun is now more marigold than lemon, and that overall, its uncoated paper is lovely.
2. Another disarmingly nice before-publication review will appear tomorrow (the 3rd) on Kirkus, and believe in their mid-February print edition too.
3. I'm resolved to sort out the availability of prints—I decided a good while ago that I disliked the mass-produced-ness of Society6, but this means that I have deprived you of prints, for Lost in Translation and The Illustrated Book of Sayings, and I'd like to rectify this. I've identified a small, wonderful printer and fulfilment company based in East London, one who ships internationally, and so fingers crossed and all being well and any other vague, hopeful notions you can think of, this will be set up within a week.
4. Final tweaks were made to the Italian cover design, which is different in both obvious ways (like the Italian title above), and tinier ones, like the addition of two half-a-centimeter-tall trees (below), necessary as their edition isn't going to be a hardback, and requires flaps at either end.
THIS WEEK I FELL IN LOVE WITH:
A small selection of muted, memorable photographs from the portfolio of the hugely influential Richard Misrach.
(Thank you, P.)
I think that will probably do, for now, for always and never and for who knows really.
The end.
Copyright © 2019 Ella Frances Sanders, All rights reserved.