Perigee Bookmarks

There Oughta Be a Word…

Posted by Marian Lizzi

 

As I turned on my computer this morning, I had the following thought: There really should be a word for the heady stew of emotions stirred up by the fact that I have to write yet another blog post this week.

 

But I digress.

 

If you love words like I do (and let’s be honest, we all know that you do), you’ll delight in the obscure, antiquated, and oddly specific elements of our weird language featured in Ammon Shea’s Reading the OED. Yes, the book has been out for a while now. But will gems like the following ever get old? (Please say no, or else this post will be dead in the water.)

 

 

Apricity:  The warmth of the sun in winter.

 

Cimicine:  Smelling like bugs.

 

Jocoserious:  Half serious and half in jest. (Also, how I live my entire life.)

 

Lant: To add urine to ale, in order to make it stronger. (Possibly big in Germany.)

 

Psithurism:  The whispering of leaves moved by the wind.

 

Tacenda:  Things not to be mentioned. Says Ammon: “The incident with the broccoli. Your Aunt Tilly’s first husband. Where that scar really came from.”

 

Yepsen: The amount that can be held in two cupped hands.

 

 

What are your favorite language finds? Comment, email or tweet me. It will happify me greatly!

 

And stay tuned for Ammon’s next engaging tribute to a big book no one reads….wait for it…The Phone Book.

 

 

 

Reading the OED is on sale now.

 

Season's Greetings

Posted by Marian Lizzi

 

It’s summer in publishing—when an editor’s thoughts turn to half-day Fridays, friends who have vacation homes, and…fall books. Here at Perigee, we’re gearing up for the release of a truly gorgeous and fun Mad Men tie-in book (Mad Men: The Illustrated World by Dyna Moe, October 6, 2010).  And speaking personally, I’m experiencing a bit of seasonal anticipation for another Extreme Halloween.

 

What’s an Extreme Halloween? Perhaps you’re not familiar with the power-tool stylings of Tom Nardone, creator of ExtremePumpkins.com and author of three kickass pumpkin-carving guides. (I can say kickass here, right? Come on, it’s summer.)

 

Before I met the mighty Mr. Nardone, I thought Halloween was just for kids (and those people at the office with nothing better to do). But now that my eyes have been opened, every midsummer I start dreaming of puking pumpkins, cannibal pumpkins, snot-shooter pumpkins, Cro-Magnon pumpkins…you get the idea.

 

But the best part of Tom’s oeuvre (did I really just use that word?) is his love of Halloween tricks. That’s right—good old-fashioned pranks. Friends, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a suburban father of three jump out of a big garbage can, wearing the lid as a hat, making a just-scary-enough noise like a…garbage monster.

All this to say that the rumors of summer torpor in the halls of big publishing are somewhat exaggerated. We are working away, ish, and gearing up for the madness of fall.

 

 

 

 

Extreme Pumpkins

 

 

 

Extreme Pumpkins II

 

 

 

Extreme Halloween

A Book by Any Other Name

Posted by John Duff, Publisher

 

Next to the cover design, the copy that appears on one of our books—title, subtitle, selling lines, bursts, and/or violators—is probably the most contentious issue that we face in the packaging process.

 

I am reminded of this daily as editors and authors submit copy ideas and I, like Mad Men’s Don Draper (but with much less confidence and no glass of whiskey to fortify me) have to pronounce judgment on the results of their labors. (I recently completed the Mad Men/AMC online Job Interview Quiz, and when it came to making a decision between two ad pitches for Lucky Strike, I chose the response: “Hmm. Neither of these works for me. Next question….” I was offered the position of Senior Partner for that bit of wisdom.)

 

Crafting just the right message can be frustrating, but when the planets align it can be a beautiful thing. Sometimes this process takes a long time to resolve (it is remarkable, however, how few times we’ve had to go to press with our catalog using a tentative title) and at other times it comes together in a flash.

 

The process actually begins from the moment we consider a book for acquisition.  In one recent instance, an otherwise really first rate proposal carried the somewhat cumbersome title of Own the Language, Own the Room. In short order we discovered the perfect title buried deep in the text. The book is a rather brilliant take on how to influence others inspired by expertise from the worlds of politics, media, law, and marketing. The key points—or as they came to be known, the “powers”—that are the framework of the book helped to inform the eventual title, 27 Powers of Persuasion.  Of course, the success of this book will be based on the combination of its editorial content, the publicity that the author and the house can generate, timing, and a little luck. But having a good title won’t hurt either.

 

In the world of prescriptive non-fiction publishing, the secret is simplicity and clarity. The message of the book should be front and center. Why should any reader have to work too hard to figure out whether or not they need or want the book? This is a lesson that we have learned over the years, and sometimes too late. Of course, there are countless exceptions, so that a book such as I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, whose title could lead you in many directions, can become a classic in the subject area. In this case, borderline personality disorder.  More often than not the books that really work will sport titles like What to Expect When You’re Expecting or The 4-Hour Work Week where the promise is explicit or implicit but not obscured. (See, I can be generous to other publishers!)

 

Of course, among our successes of the past few years have been The Book of Useless Information (and its several follow-up volumes) and Wreck This Journal. Each, in its own way, has a compelling title that entices readers—either because everyone is overwhelmed and fed up with so much useful information or because, at long last, they have been given permission to rip, tear, burn, and generally destroy a book!

 

Now fiction, which I read but don’t publish, is another matter completely…

 

 

Sadly, publishers rarely do market research, so I’ll do a little ad hoc survey and beg for your comments. Have you ever decided against buying a book because of its title even though the subject matter may be of interest to you? Have you decided to buy one book over another on the same subject because of the title?

 

27 Powers of Persuasion by Chris St. Hilaire with Lynette Padwa will be available September 7.

 

 

 

 

 

The Book of Useless Information by Noel Botham is on sale now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wreck This Journal by Keri Smith is on sale now.

 

 

 

 

 

A new edition of I Hate You, Don't Leave Me by Jerold J. Kreisman, M.D., and Hal Straus will be available December 7.

Meanings of Survival

Posted by Kristin Pintarich, Contributing Editor, The Survivor Personality

 

Al Siebert's The Survivor Personality is itself a story of survival. The book, originally published in 1993, could have gone silently out of print and into used-book oblivion after the death of its author. In response to an endorsement from Ben Sherwood, author of The Survivors Club, in Newsweek, Al had contacted his publisher, John Duff, to inquire about re-promoting the book. Instead, Al and John decided a revised edition was due. But shortly after Al commenced work on the new edition, he was diagnosed with colon cancer, and he passed away within a few months.

 

I had worked side by side with Al as his assistant for many years, and the first question that came to mind after his death was, "what now?" The answer was clear. I knew what needed to be done—the project must move forward. The feedback Al had received over the years from people expressing their appreciation for his work was immeasurable. The information was too important to let disappear. So, with the help of Al’s wife, Molly, who was a passionate supporter of his work during their marriage, we set out to fulfill Al’s final commitment.

 

Revising another person’s book is almost as challenging as writing one from scratch, especially when the author has died. But Molly and I had worked with Al on the previous edition, so we were in the fortunate position of understanding not only the value of the book itself, but the mind of its creator. In the first round of edits, we approached things with a respectfully light touch. But after our publisher sent back his first comments, we knew we'd have to really dig in—just as Al would have done. Even so, it was tough to reword or clarify some of the passages and to introduce compelling and timely anecdotes that would resonate with a new generation of readers. At times we felt hesitant to mess with the "master's" words, but eventually we were able to find a happy balance of old and new.

 

Some things about the revision did come easily. In the previous edition, Al described the feeling of not writing the book but "having" it—how certain elements in the work revealed themselves to him as opposed to him having to struggle to create them. The same held true for this edition. Molly had one of those experiences when visiting a coastal town that had been a favorite place for her and Al. To ease the awkwardness she felt from being alone, she wandered into a local bookstore where she was drawn to a book called Learning to Breathe, Alison Wright’s account of surviving a bus accident in Laos. As Molly thumbed through the book, she recollected that Al had met Alison several years earlier at a survival conference. We contacted Alison, and she agreed to let us use her story for the opening of the chapter “Surviving Emergencies and Crises.” This is just one example of how having an awareness of your current situation and being open to subtle clues can lead you in the right direction.

 

I think Al would have approved of the final product, as his beloved Molly and I tried to embody his teachings on how to bounce back and get through life's toughest challenges. Preparing his book for re-publication may have been a great test for us, but the rewards that have come from this task are incomparable.

 

The Survivor Personality

How to Run a Personal Record, Revisited

Posted by Christina Lundy

 

Note: Earlier this week I registered for my first half marathon, which I wrote about here. 

 

My first long run was an eye opener.  What I mean is that it made me realize you can’t run a half marathon on a cursory flip through a book and some inspiration.  Remember those simple schedules?  I have to actually do the work.  With that in mind I took another look at How to Run a Personal Record, minus the rose-colored glasses.  Here are some things I’ll need to do in the coming weeks.

 

Invest in better running shoes – The clearance shoes I got at Kohl’s two years ago may have been fine for casual running, but they aren’t going to cut it for half-marathon training.  Regardless of distance, shoes need to be replaced fairly often to prevent injury.  Maybe that’s why my knees and shins have been bothering me?

 

Run on soft surfaces – If it wasn’t the shoes, it could be the concrete.  Dave Kuehls describes the surface as “poisonous” for running because the force of each step is brought back into the body.  Many of us don’t have easy access to winding dirt trails, especially when squeezing in a run before work, but whenever possible (and safe) I need to make an effort to at least run on asphalt, which is softer. 

 

Know the importance of long runs – As tempting as it may be to skip ahead to the hill and track workouts, the base work is most important.  This is a good reminder, especially since I’ve hurt myself in the past because I got too eager.

 

Pay attention to nutrition – Running is energy intensive, so I need to increase my food intake with my mileage, especially when it comes to carbohydrates, a major energy source.  Another helping of macaroni?  Don’t mind if I do.  More bread?  Yes, please.

 

I feel ready for my run tonight, but I’m sure I’ll be turning back to the book often in the next few months for information and inspiration as I continue training and logging my miles.  Wish me luck!

 

How to Run a Personal Record by Dave Kuehls

How to Run a Personal Record

Posted by Christina Lundy

 

As Jeanette so aptly pointed out here, we are always finding ourselves running to the Perigee book room when something is going on in our lives.  It is a treasure trove of self help, whether you are planting a vegetable garden, want to dress better, need dinner ideas, or, in my case, you’ve been talked into running a half marathon.

 

I resisted a week’s worth of a friend’s attempts to make a 13-plus mile race sound appealing.  She had her work cut out for her.  No matter how many boas, glasses of champagne, and tiaras you pile on me (it’s a “diva” race, after all), it still involves more than two hours of nonstop running.

 

It's not that I'm new to the sport.  Four years of mediocre running for my high school’s track and cross country teams is enough to make me feel like a certified running expert, but the fact is I’ve only been an occasional runner since then, with a handful of road races (none more than 4 miles) under my belt.  So, after my begrudging assent to participate, I turned to a real expert.

 

Dave Kuehls, author and contributing editor for Runner’s World, makes it sound simple in How to Run a Personal Record.  In a series of neat weekly schedules, he outlines exactly how many miles I need to run each day to be able to physically complete the race in various times.  For now I’m glossing over the 10-milers and focusing on how much sleeping, eating, and resting I’ll need to do to maintain that level of activity.  The information is so straightforward that I’ve already found myself flipping through Four Months to a Four-hour Marathon. 

 

As simple as it may seem, the reality is that I need to start seriously training this week.  I know my body can handle it, but the real challenge will be to convince my brain of that fact.  For that reason, I’m glad Kuehls also tackles the mental part, going beyond what a runner should wear for a race, and including how and what to think about at each stage so it doesn’t seem too overwhelming.  Armed with all of this information, I have no excuses.  Time to get started.

 

Think you’re up for the challenge?  Check out Kuehls’s books below for beginners and runners of all levels. 

 

3 Months to Your First 5k

 

 

 

 

 

How to Run a Personal Record

 

 

 

 

 

Four Months to a Four-hour Marathon

All the "Best"?

Posted by Jeanette Shaw

When I started in publishing in 2004, the world had already transitioned into primarily electronic forms of communication—email, texting, MySpace, blogs—but publishing felt like the last holdout. We still edited hard copy manuscripts. We received numerous proposals in the mail, and sent massive catalog mailings several times a year. A scant six years later, our company has introduced an online production process that virtually eliminates the paper trail, I do all my editing in Word, most submissions come to me via email, and we now send our catalog electronically. I would venture to say our industry, company, and imprint have really embraced the digital transition (to say nothing of the ascent of ebooks).

So it is with chagrin that I relate that I still have problems with that most basic form of electronic communication, specifically: the email. Even more specifically: the email sign-off. The rules I learned growing up for letters was simple: "Sincerely" for acquaintances, "Love" or pretty much whatever you prefer for friends and family. But when it comes to email, all bets seem to be off. "Sincerely" feels stuffy; I'm certainly not close enough with business acquaintances to sign off with love. I thought I had a pretty workable variation: "Best wishes," "Best," or simply my name for out-of-company or formal purposes, a simple "Thanks" for basic in house requests and correspondence. This was based on endless studying of others' emails when I first joined the company; it's always smart to try to fit with the corporate culture. It's also smart to try to keep your communication on the same level as the other person - if I notice that someone consistently only signs emails with his or her name, I will often do the same only with that person, but such a cold (to me) sign-off is not my norm for general purposes. Seems like a pretty basic, nonoffensive system, yes?

But apparently email etiquette is a much grayer area than I realized. Lifehacker, in a roundup of annoying email habits, found a dislike for using "Thanks"—my go-to phrase!—to close an email. (There was also some antipathy for "Cheers," which I don't use but often tickles me because I always then picture the sender to be British.) Even more suprising, a New York Times article from 2006 implied that "Best" is often seen as a brush-off. Really? Is the omission of "wishes" really that much of an implied insult?

(By the way, this whole discussion ignores the often equally troubling question of how to begin an email. Per our highly informative guide to business communication How to Say It at Work, starting an email with "Dear" is discouraged—though I will do it occasionally in very formal circumstances. Beginning with just the person's name is acceptable, but I often prefer "Hi XXX," usually omitting the comma even though I know it's grammatically incorrect—it just looks weird.)

So if I'm running a risk of offense with my usual well-wishes, what are my other options? Well, there's "With warm regards" or "Cordially" (and variations thereof), but none of those feel like me. I like to thank people, sometimes with an exclamation point. I like to wish them the best, though perhaps I will make more of an effort now to add on those extra "wishes." Email has opened up and eased communication and interaction to a degree never seen before, but living our lives entirely through the typewritten word can often lead to second guessing ourselves. This can be a good thing—when your words are irrevocably committed to print it's very important to make sure you're writing what you mean to write (which is why I prefer arguments over the phone, so that you can't go back and reread the hurtful words later—better to let the memory get hazy)—but can also lead us to overthink and come off stuffy, humorless, or cold. So I think I will simply go on signing off in the way that feels right to me, and if anyone gets offended, well, "Cheers" to them.

Or I could just cover all my bases:

With Warmest Best Wishes and Thanks,

Jeanette

Musings on a Mission Statement

Posted by Jeanette Shaw

 

Besides the question “What kinds of books do you work on?” (which Marian discussed so eloquently in a recent post here), the other question I often get as an editor is, “What kinds of books does Perigee publish?” Now, my rote answer is that we publish books that follow our mission statement to “entertain and inform,” or as the line at the top of this site reads, books that are “useful, useless, curious, and creative.” But sometimes I find it hard to articulate exactly what makes Perigee unique as an imprint. How do our books inform readers’ lives differently from other nonfiction publishers?

 

This past week I went down to the Jersey Shore—not the ‘roids and raves shore depicted by MTV, but lovely, peaceful Avalon, where there’s an old time ice cream parlor and a seafood shack on every corner, and all the houses have wraparound porches. Now, having somehow missed out on any of the tanning genes that might have been imparted by my half-Italian ancestry (I guess the pale northern Scottish/Lithuanian side won out), I’m not a huge beach fan, and consequently not the best swimmer. I’m particularly fearful of strong ocean waves. I see little kids jumping the swells all the time, but refuse to let the water go up past my hips, and spend more time sitting at the edge of the water watching the waves break on the shore.

 

This year, as I watched the waves break, I remembered some things I learned while reading The Wave Watcher’s Companion. For instance, did you know that when waves “break” (when the top of the wave comes tumbling over) they are actually turning into shock waves? In fact, a lot of the energy coming from the moving water dissipates into heat and sound, instead of continuing as part of the ocean wave. This was surprising news to me, considering I’ve always thought of shock waves in relation to airplanes and lightning. Author Gavin Pretor-Pinney also offers an answer to a recurring question of mine: Why do ocean waves always line up with the beach? The answer there is refraction—the change in the direction of a wave due to a change in speed. The shallower the water becomes as the wave approaches the beach, the slower the wave travels, so if the wave is traveling at an angle, once the closer end hits the shallower water it will begin moving slower, and the entire wave will “turn” to face the land head-on.

 

When I got home from the shore I stopped by my mother’s house to check on my vegetable garden. This was my first year ever attempting to grow my own organic vegetables, and I utilized Annie Spiegelman’s Talking Dirt to do it. Now, it hasn’t been a complete success—my broccoli was a sad casualty—but when I bit into my first sweet, delicious, homegrown cherry tomato this weekend, I felt an inordinate sense of pride. I could have learned to grow vegetables from another book, or from a website, perhaps, but how wonderful to have the perfect guide to doing so right on my office shelves?

 

And this, perhaps, is what I find distinctive about Perigee. Any situation I ever need an answer for, and even ones I never knew I had questions about, is probably covered by one of our books. The books we publish have had such a direct and indirect impact on how I view the world and how I live my life. They’ve made me want to try new things, like gardening or crafting a sock animal, and they’ve made me want to learn more about the everyday things I take for granted, like clouds or waves or the elevator in my apartment building. (Did you know, according to Bubble Gum and Hula Hoops, Louis XV of France had a “flying chair” installed in his apartment in 1743 so he wouldn’t have to climb stairs to visit his mistress, resulting in the first “passenger elevator”?)

 

So the next time I’m asked, “What kinds of books does Perigee publish?” maybe my answer should be simply, “The books you need, whether you realize it or not.”

 

Talking Dirt by Annie Spiegelman

 

 

 

 

 

The Wave Watcher's Companion

by Gavin Pretor-Pinney

Bubble Gum and Hula Hoops

by Harry Oliver

Dutch Baby Dinner

Posted by Maria Gagliano

 

I’d never heard of a Dutch Baby before reading about it in The Lost Art of Real Cooking. It’s a delightful cross between a pancake and an omelet of sorts: A little eggy, a little floury, and perfect with any toppings.

 

After making one last night I imagined how great it would be for a houseful of breakfast guests. Or even better, a houseful of kids.  Rosanna describes how she used to make this as a child on Saturday mornings, devouring it in one sitting with a friend.  That got me thinking: How nice would it be to make this my signature breakfast recipe for tiny guests?

 

I started imagining my little niece Sofia (only one week old, but she’ll eat solids soon enough) coming over for breakfast, asking if I can make that buttery pancake thing that’s so good with Nutella. I wouldn’t mind being associated with the magical smell of melted chocolate and butter. In fact, I think I’d prefer it…

 

It’s another one of the simpler recipes in the book, but so rewarding, especially when you don’t know what to expect. And since I didn’t know what to expect, I made it for dinner before realizing Dutch Babies are so quintessentially breakfast. Even still, there’s nothing wrong with breakfast for dinner. Here’s Rosanna’s take on a Dutch Baby:

 

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Melt a stick of butter in a large cast-iron skillet.

 

In a separate bowl, whisk together four room-temperature eggs, one cup of all-purpose flour, one cup of milk, and a half cup of sugar. I used brown sugar and sprinkled the baby with cinnamon after taking it out of the oven, per Rosanna’s brilliant suggestion.

 

Pour the batter into the melted butter and pop it in the over for something like 20 to 25 minutes. Set the table and put out maple syrup, honey, marmalades, and yogurt.

 

This is an ideal excuse for smearing obscene amounts of Nutella on your dinner. I can’t think of a better Wednesday night meal.

 

Make sure you eat it right out of the oven, at its peak of fluffy perfection.

 

 

 

 

 

The Lost Art of Real Cooking publishes on July 6.