Rowan Magazine 50: Fall preview

Around the middle of summer each year, I get cranky. I am not a summer person, and I do not like hot weather. By the fourth of July I am already eager for cooler weather, back-to-school shopping, and all the fun that fall brings -- with many weeks left to go in our muggy Philly summers. But if there is one redeeming thing about this time of year, when the summer seems all used up and everyone's ready for a change, it's this: ROWAN MAGAZINE TIME!

Every August, just when I'm ready to grab a pitchfork and torch



and march on the school administration building, demanding they start the fall term RIGHT NOW, I get a little blast of refreshment when my new Rowan fall magazine arrives. This year is a special one for Rowan: it's the fiftieth Rowan Magazine to be published. It's fat, it's full of gorgeous patterns, and it is making me so damn happy right now.

Cover featuring Hawthorne Cape (Marie Wallin)
& Beech Mittens (Erika Knight)

The first "story" (as Rowan always calls them) is Wildwood. Now while Wildwood conjures up decidedly un-knitting-like images for many of us Americans who vacation at the Jersey Shore

rest assured that Rowan is talking about whole different kind of Wildwood. Instead of thongs and board shorts, we see "heirloom arans, exquisite florals and handcrafted crochet using the rich autumnal colours of the Briitsh rural countryside."

This section begins with a gorgeous autumnal intarsia sweater by Kaffe Fassett

Holly (Kaffe Fassett)

(is that photography not exquisite?)

a lovely coat with floral motif by Marie Wallin:

Robinia (Marie Wallin)

cabled cape and mittens (shown on the cover), and this lovely stranded design in Felted Tweed:

Maple (Marie Wallin)

My new BFF Martin Storey presents this lovely tunic/vest with more floral motifs

Hornbeam (Martin Storey)

and two sweaters with still more lovely florals, like this one:

Elm (Martin Storey)

I cannot show all 39 designs from the Magazine on this bandwidth but I have to show this scrolling cable number

Laurel (Marie Wallin)

and the lovely stole (also by Kaffe Fassett) which melds colors of KidSilk Haze so beautifully.

Alder Wrap (Kaffe Fassett)

After the first story, you'll find an article about Shetland lace (interesting), and then "Finesse." This group of patterns is inspired by the curve-hugging silhouettes of the 50s and 60s, with more understated design elements. "Betty" features a stranded yoke and cropped shape;

Betty (Marie Wallin)

Bonnie, by Martin Storey, is a very vintage-feeling cabled sweater with lovely lines;

Bonnie (Martin Storey)

You'll find this peekaboo cleavage number

Connie (Jennie Atkinson)

and a design that cleverly uses sheerer mohair for the arms and shoulders but more opaque Cashsoft DK for the bodice.

Molly (Marie Wallin)

The photography, in an historic Derbyshire abbey, is simply smashing.

Next up is an article looking at then and now in the lives of various Rowan designers, and a shorter feature on the virtues of British wool. Then comes "Winter Essentials," the last story, with a neutral color palette and an emphasis on updated, stylish basics. Once again, Martin Storey shines with a tie-front tunic (like the interesting use of cables)

Compassion (Martin Storey)

but I was especially taken with friend-of-GKIYH Sarah Hatton's slightly cropped cabled sweater "Affection"

Affection (Sarah Hatton)

and the chunky-knit "Cordial". (Sarah Hatton is way cool, and I had a blast drinking wine with her at VK Live in New York.)

Cordial (Sarah Hatton)

There are lots of other wonderful sweaters in this story, including the lace tunic by Amanda Crawford

Amour (Amanda Crawford)

a top that uses the drape of Kid Silk Haze to create a cowl-like draped front

Love (Marie Wallin)

and several cardigans that balance style with versatility. (If I make this cardigan, there is a very real danger I will wear it every day.)

Generous (Grace Meville)

After the last of the patterns, there's a sneak preview of the upcoming quilting book by Kaffe Fassett and Liza Prior Lucy featuring Swedish-inspired designs (I'm drooling already) as well as a list of the coming books and booklets by Rowan designers (ditto).

Rowan has recently updated their website and you can now see all of the book's designs here.

It's wonderful to know that in this ever-changing world, one thing has stayed the same: the gorgeous knitwear, terrific styling and amazing photography of a new Rowan fall Magazine. When you consider that you get all of these patterns for less than a buck apiece (the Magazine sells for around US$23 and you get 39 patterns), it is a phenomenal value. More importantly, from an emotional standpoint, with the first day of school still a whole month away, I don't know if I could make it until Labor Day without it.

UPDATE: Thanks Meezermeowy for reminding me to point out that Rowan has greatly expanded its size ranges, with many of the designs going to XXL, to fit 48-50-inch chest size with finished circumferences in the high 50-inch range.

Coming soon: a look at the new fall yarns from Rowan....

A publishing trend?

One thing I've noticed in the last few months, and once again at TNNA, is what seems to be a trend in the knit-publishing world. Looking at recent and future releases, I noticed quite a few books that are re-issues of previously-published works, or compilations of material that has been released before (e.g., a "Best of" selection of items previously published in magazines).

Is this a publishing trend, republishing patterns and content that have already been published before? (Note that I'm leaving out re-editions of books that have long been out of print and are hard to find, like the Alice Starmore books and Principles of Knitting.)

Now let me be clear: I don't think that there is anything wrong or "evil" about this, and I am in no way trying to call out any particular author or publisher. Certainly publishers pay good money for content and I can understand why they want to try to get the most bang for their buck. Repackaging a book is less costly than creating new content -- you just have to take the existing patterns and in many cases you can re-use the photographs, too -- and there's another addition to your catalog. To the extent that you can market the book to an audience that might not be familiar with the prior publications (say, newly-hatched knitters), or freshen up selections to make them more appealing to today's trends, you might do just fine.

But I wonder if this push to publish recycled patterns is ultimately short-sighted. First of all, I have sensed that some knitters feel cheated when they look forward to a new book, only to find that it doesn't contain new content. (If you don't believe me, read some of the Amazon.com reviews for books that don't clearly state they are using pre-published content.)

Second, recycling patterns means that the books aren't reacting to current developments in the knitting world. Admittedly, this may not be a big deal when you are talking about classic styles, or things like socks that don't change much over time.

I wondered if maybe there are very popular patterns that have a loyal following even after the individual magazine is no longer available or is sold out. Maybe compilations are a way for knitters who missed out on the original issue to cherry-pick the best patterns from previous years. But the rise of individual pattern PDF sales means that even if a magazine is sold out, if you really really want a particular pattern, you may be able to purchase it directly from the publisher in PDF form.

Looking at the bigger picture, though, I think that publishers run the risk of making themselves less relevant to knitters by doing this -- and this is a risk that they can't afford to take.

I think there will continue to be a place for knitting design books. Apart from the aesthetic appeal of a beautifully-designed, well-photographed book, and apart from the old-school knitters who prefer books and paper to PDFs and computer screens, there is a built-in economic incentive for the knitter to purchase good knitting books.

Do the math. Buying an individual pattern (paper or PDF) will now cost you $5 or more, depending on the designer and pattern (some complex lace patterns may go up to $12. Again, I am NOT saying these patterns are too expensive, I am just looking at average price). If you buy three individual patterns at five bucks each, you've spent 15 dollars for 3 patterns. Compare the cost of a book: 20 or more patterns, often for that same 15 dollars or less. The per-pattern price is substantially lower for the book. Even if you assume that you might not care for a handful of the patterns in a 20- or 25-pattern book, you're still getting about 15-20 patterns you like for less than a dollar each.

The economics change, however, if I already own some of the patterns in the book. If I already own, say, half of them, then the per-pattern price rises. On a purely emotional level, it just become harder for me to justify buying a book when I already own some of the patterns in it. And again, speaking from an emotional place, I just can't get as excited about a book full of designs I've seen before, even if they're great designs, as I can about the possibilities inherent in a book full of brand-new content.

I think there's the risk of knitters getting glazed over when they start to perceive a lot of published books as simply recycled patterns that they've already seen (even if they are rephotographed; even if some portion of new content is added). With the Internet and PDFs and ebooks eating into sales, traditional publishers can't afford to be perceived as less relevant.

These are just my ramblings, from a book-lover with no publishing-company work experience.... Your thoughts and insights are always welcome.

May & June Book Report

Okay, you know the drill: here's what I read in May and June of this year....comments and suggestions always welcome.

I started out May by reading a couple of books in series that I already knew and liked. First up was A Red Herring Without Mustard, by Alan Bradley, the third Flavia de Luce book. I love this quirky series, featuring an eleven-year-old British girl who loves chemistry and hates her big sisters, puttering around a wreck of a manor house in the days following WWII. In this installment, Flavia goes to the village fair intending to have her fortune told by a suitably mysterious Gypsy -- and ends up burning the entire fortunetelling tent down. Mortified, Flavia invites the fortuneteller to park her caravan on Flavia's family's land -- at least until the woman recovers from the smoke she inhaled. During the course of the novel, Flavia discovers who is behind a brutal assault and a murder, investigates the theft of local antiques, and looks into the mystery of a disappearing baby. Very entertaining and enjoyable.

Heartstone and an earlier book (Sovereign), by C.J. Sansom, are part of the Tudor mysteries featuring a hunchbacked lawyer named Matthew Shardlake. I like these mysteries because they are very well-written, with terrific historical detail and great depth of character. In Heartstone, Shardlake has to untangle two complicated mysteries while England prepares for possible invasion by the French; Sovereign is an earlier installment in the series in which Shardlake accompanies King Henry VIII on a progress to York. I liked both, and am sorry I'll have to wait another year or two for the next sequel.

The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht. This was an uncharacteristic impulse purchase for me, after it was highly recommended by the owner of an independent bookshop. It's a foray into magical realism, in which a young doctor, living in a country that sounds a lot like Yugoslavia or Serbia, tries to work through her grief and loss at her beloved grandfather's death, in part by recounting various folk tales that he used to tell (one involves a tiger, hence the title). It is absolutely staggering when the youth of the author registered with me -- she is so young, and that this is her first book is incredible. I enjoyed the book and found it compelling, and was glad I took a chance on it.

While I was breaking out of my mystery rut, I took advantage of the Amazon Vine program to procure a free copy of 22 Britannia Road, also a first novel, by Brit Amanda Hodgkinson. This book is a very affecting story about a couple whose lives are fractured by World War II. Silvana and Janusz are a Polish couple married in the early days of the war. Janusz joins the army, and they are separated for six years. When Janusz finally finds Silvana and their son, he has resettled in England and wants to become as English as he can, looking to the future as a way to get over the past. Silvana and their son Aurek have endured so much in their six years away from Janusz that they are strangers to him. The novel follows their attempts to start a new life together while coping with the unspeakable things each has experienced.

I got a little cocky after breaking out of my rut, and decided to try another free Vine selection that was uncharacteristic for me: Leeches by David Albahari. The plot concerns a writer who witnesses a man slapping a woman and finds himself obsessed with the incident, trying to figure out who the woman is and what happened to her. I should have known better; the book is written in a single paragraph (yes, all 300-some pages continue without a single paragraph break), employs a stream-of-consciousness approach (which I usually loathe), and take lengthy forays into issues relating to Jewish identity and the Kabbalah. It meanders, has an unreliable narrator and is absurdist. I hated it. My bad.

I did try another free Vine book, but stuck more to my traditional choices and opted for The Woodcutter by Reginald Hill (who writes the Dalziel and Pascoe series). This was a stand-alone thriller, and although it was completely conventional by comparison to some of the other stuff I'd read, it was a perfect beach book -- lots of plot, suspense and intrigue, even if not very realistic. Ditto for The Poison Tree by Erin Kelly, which I found at the library. I'd read a good review of this somewhere, and found it to be another plot-heavy, suspenseful thriller, with plot lines that went back and forth from the past to present.

One of the things I've been enjoying in the past year is trading books with my 13-year-old -- it seems like there have been so many really well done books classified as "young adult." He recommended The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin to me. I remember reading The Mysterious Disappearance of Leon (I Mean Noel) by the same author as a kid, and liking it, so I gave it a try. It's a quick read, in which a mysterious man builds a fancy apartment complex and then rents it out to a very specific group of people -- a female judge, a podiastrist who moonlights as a bookie, a family that runs a restaurant, a dressmaker....When the mysterious man dies, he leaves his fortune to whichever resident of the building can untangle his puzzle. I enjoyed this book, which won the Newbery award. I learned (by reading the forward to the book) what an interesting woman Ellen Raskin was -- not only was she an award-winning author but she was an illustrator, too, and designed covers for many books (including the first edition of A Wrinkle in Time).

If you are a bibliophile like me, then one of the best things about reading is discovering a new series or author that you really love, and then working your way through the books they've written. I had the good fortune to discover a few new authors and mystery series.

Amazon has been recommending Aaron Elkins to me for a while, so I found one of the earlier books in his Gideon Oliver series, The Dark Place. Gideon Oliver is a forensic anthropologist called in to consult by the FBI. A body (really, a skeleton) has been found and it looks old. There is a spear point embedded in the bones, which intrigues Oliver: he wonders what kind of incredible strength was required to wield a spear so powerfully. Oliver has to untangle the mystery of the murder, set against the backdrop of the forests in the Olympic peninsula of Washington. Lots of atmosphere and a quick read, too.

First Drop by Zoe Sharp was another book recommended to me. It's out-0f-print, I think, but my library was able to order a copy on inter-library loan. This book features Brit Charlie Fox, a former special forces veteran who joins her ex-boyfriend's security company. Her first job is flying to Florida to protect the nerdy teenage son of a software executive. The book is extremely fast-paced and exciting. Part of the charm is seeing how Charlie builds a relationship with the teenager she's guarding, while trying to protect his life.

The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri, is the first of a series of books featuring Sicilian detective Inspector Montalbano. Amazon has been recommending this series to me for a while, and I finally gave it a try. Now I'm hooked. Montalbano is a funny, quirky detective -- impatient, brilliant, cynical, scheming -- and in this book, he is presented with a body locked in a car, pants down. But not all is what it seems, and Montalbano -- along with his amusing co-workers -- get to the bottom of things. Part of the charm of this book is the character of Montalbano; it's hard to come up with a truly original protagonist for a mystery series and yet Camilleri has done so. Another aspect of the books that's interesting is the Sicilian setting (there are actually notes in the back, added by the excellent translator, that explain some of the regional references a non-Italian might not get).

So there you have it: what I read in May and June. Don't be afraid to leave a comment or suggestion (I don't bite!).

FO: Sewing edition

A few weeks ago, while I was in-between projects, I got the urge to sew. I downloaded a very cute pattern for a girl's peasant dress -- Sis Boom's Molly Peasant Dress.


I had some fabric that I'd gotten on sale (from Anna Maria Horner's Innocent Crush collection).



The pattern was easy to follow, and there were only a few pieces to cut out and work with.


The only modification I made was to add a ruffle to the bottom in the same fabric I used for the sleeves. For some reason, the dress seemed to need the ruffle to balance out the proportions. (I just cut a rectangle that was twice as long as the circumference of the skirt, basted it on to get the ruffles right, and sewed it.)



Best of all, the dress fits (although next time I will go up a size) and looks adorable.


P.S. Still plenty of time to use the coupon code TOOHOT for 15% off orders of $25 or more (not including shipping) at Black Bunny Fibers....

The Book Process: part I

I did a blog post a little while back about some of the similarities I noticed between the quilting blog world and the knitting blog world. One thing I've seen on a lot of quilting blogs lately is a "Process Pledge." The Process Pledge is a vow to not just "show finishes or occasionally confess about our moments of indecision, but chat openly and often about our works in progress, our inspirations, and our moments of decision," to quote one blogger.

It got me thinking about blogging about the process of writing a knitting book, and since there's been some positive feedback from you, the readers, about me doing that, well, here goes. It's important to remember when you read this that these observations are based mainly on my personal experience, which is limited, and to a lesser extent on my conversations with others in the knitting/crochet industry. Others may have had different experiences. It's probably also worth noting that I don't have any background in the publishing industry. If anyone else wants to chime in by leaving a comment to give a different take on this, please feel free. So here goes.

Part 1: Selling your idea

Every book starts with an idea. It can be a topic that hasn't really been covered before in a book, or one that hasn't yet been covered adequately (I envisioned Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarns because no one had written a book about that topic but so many knitters seemed to struggle with it). Maybe it starts with a sensibility or a very distinct knitting style -- Melanie Falick books do this beautifully. Often an author uses a theme to group projects around, like Kristen Rengren's Vintage Baby Knits, or gathers projects that all use a particular technique, say all fair-isle patterns.

One of the things that's exciting about a creative industry like knitting is seeing the fascinating ideas that people come up with. Stitch 'N Bitch is a great example. By combining her own sensibility (hip, urban chicks with sticks) with a learn-how-t0-knit book, Debbie Stoller came up with a franchise that hit exactly the right spot at the right time. Charmed Knits: Projects for Fans of Harry Potter was published in 2007, but is still selling strong, cleverly sensing the overlap between knitters and Harry Potter fans. There have been knitting books for roller derby fans, a book featuring knit bloggers, two books devoted to punk-themed knits, a book of vampire knits, and coming within the next year is a book of goth knits, knits for self-proclaimed nerds, and who knows what else. There have been books based on Barbara Walker's techniques, socks inspired by oriental rugs, knits in skinny yarns, knits in chunky yarns, and so on.

However, the world of publishing is littered with the carcasses of book ideas that never made it. Sometimes good ideas just don't make good books. Sometimes a trend doesn't have a long enough shelf life to make it through the book-writing process; books take at least a year and often two or more to write from beginning to publication date. If you pitched "Grunge Knits" in 1993, by the time the book came to press in 1995 or 1996, grunge might seem passe. Sometimes an idea is good, but it proves to be difficult to get the people at a publishing company (especially one that doesn't specialize in craft books) to realize it. Or maybe they recently published a book that seems too similar ("we just published a sock book last year'). And sometimes an idea is good, but sadly, it just doesn't make it in front of the right editor at the right time.

In any event, once you've got that idea ("Deep-Sea Knits: 25 Projects Inspired by Jacques Cousteau") you've got to somehow get it in front of a book editor -- specifically an acquisitions editor who has the cool job of reviewing proposals and ideas for books and deciding which ones to pursue.

It can be really hard to get an idea in front of an acquisitions editor (although I can see why -- you know that everybody from their son's softball coach to the bag boy at the supermarket is always trying to sell book ideas to them, so who can blame them for being kind of hard to approach?). If you can manage it, it helps to run an idea by an editor in an informal way to get their reaction before going to the trouble of putting together a proposal. Generally, they either wrinkle their nose and say "I don't think we'd be interested in that" (oh boy, have I seen that nose-wrinkle a million times) or they say "That sounds interesting; do you have a written proposal?"

If you get past the nose-wrinkling test, then you've got to come up with a professional-looking written book proposal. Every editor and publishing company has a slightly different style and format (check the publisher's website; often they have written guidelines to help you) but basically you spell out your idea, tell why you think it's worth writing a book about it, give some analysis of the market (i.e. who do you expect will want to buy it), and provide outlines, sample chapters, sample projects and so on. Putting a written proposal together is a lot of work. Having it look super-polished is well worth the extra time it takes. When I first started mucking around with the idea of writing books, I thought that the strength of the writing and the concept were more important than the packaging; now I think that the packaging of the concept is half the battle. If you think that spending a lot of time crafting a book proposal is too much work, then trust me: you don't really want to write a book.

When your proposal is ready to go, you send it to the acquisitions editor, and wait. And wait. And maybe wait some more.

It's hard to say how long it can take to get a firm answer on a proposal. Sometimes you get a pretty fast no. Sometimes you are contacted and asked more questions, or to provide more material or elaborate on your idea. You might be asked if you are open to a slight change of focus. Sometimes you don't hear for ages and you have no idea why.

If you're lucky, and the proposal ends up in front of the right person at the right time, you'll get a call or email telling you the editor wants to do the book, but first has to present the proposal to a committee of some sort. The committee members may include management and other corporate overlords, marketing people, publicity people, art people, who knows who else? If you're very lucky, and if the acquisitions editor has all the information (s)he needs, your proposal will sail through and you'll get approval. Yay! Hurry up and sign the contract before they change their minds!

If you're not so lucky, the editor will come back with more questions, which may be hard to answer (e.g. "We did a book on beach knits a few years ago; how will Deep-Sea Knitting be different?"). You'll provide more information and hope it goes through the committee next time. Alas, there are times where you and the editor like an idea, but for some strange reason, perhaps a reason that is never articulated fully to you, the committee says no. Could be budget; could be publishing trends; could be a zillion different things. If you really believe in the strength of your idea, take that proposal and send it out to another publisher.

The conventional wisdom says that a prospective author only submits a proposal to one publishing company at a time; after they give you an answer, you then approach another one; and so on. However, if you sign with a literary agent, the agent can submit the proposal to multiple publishers simultaneously. I don't know why it's somehow appropriate to do it one way if you're unrepresented, and another way if you have an agent.

By the end of this process, you will either have a book contract, or will have been turned down by every publisher of craft books known to humankind. You can either try self-publishing, start work on a new proposal, or decide to go in a different direction.

You can see how the process of getting a book contract tends to straddle the line between doing something new and interesting (which seems risky to publishers but has the possible upside of being very popular while being the only or first book to tackle that topic) and doing something tried-and-true (easier to sell because publishers can look at sales figures for similar books and feel more confident there's a market for the topic, but may feel derivative or repetitive). It also explains why a year and a half after "Deep Sea Knits" is published, you might see "Underwater Knits" and "Titanic: 20 Knitting Projects Insipred by the Greatest Shipwreck of All Time" and maybe even "SpongeBob Knits" for the kiddies.

Next in the series: beginning work on a book

St-Denis Magazine Issue 3: Preview

Okay, I'm a little late getting to some of these magazine previews, but what the heck. It's that dead part of summer where the heat in Philadelphia makes everything seem used up and dried out. We need some inspiration, some color, some beauty to perk us up. And when it comes to beautiful knitting patterns, you all know how Véronik Avery is at the tippy-top of my list. One of the best things I got to bring home from TNNA with me was a copy of her latest St-Denis Magazine, Spring 2011, Issue 3. Let's look at the pretty things....

The issue begins with a gorgeous lace stole created by Franklin Habit in honor of his grandmother, Pauline, knit with St-Denis Boréale, in fingering weight:


One other item features lace, Vévé's Lace Weekend socks (love the photo!).

If you're looking for sweaters, you've got several gorgeous options, from Robin Melanson's versatile Woodward Cardigan,

to Laura Grutzeck's wonderful pullover with a detachable cowl,


to Cecily Glowik McDonald's Spicy Rose crossover cardigan,

to Véronik's Dolman

and Market Jacket,

but my absolute favorite might be her Ito Yoked Sweater vest... love it.


For accessories, you've got the aforementioned socks and shawl, along with two lovely pairs of stranded mittens, one by Jared Flood

and one by Kirsten Kapur (which also includes a hat pattern).


Pam Allen and Véronik collaborated on the adorable slippers:


while my Popcorn Muffler is shown on a dead-sexy Justin Timberlake-esque gentleman.


The cover pattern is Robin Melanson's Lucky Seven Beret (aren't those mushrooms around the edge too cute?).


For kids, you've got an adorable bear


and a sweet boy's sweater -- I like how the sweater is interesting to knit but not too cutesy or ornate for a boy to wear. Of course it would look darling in, say, Cyclamen, Magenta or Azalea for a girl....

Last up is the Galaxy Pillow, which I can appreciate even more given my current obsession with patchwork and quilting.

You can purchase St-Denis Magazine either directly from the St-Denis website, or from many fine shops (there's a list on the St-Denis website).