A Long & Winding Corridor

A blog dedicated to my thoughts, inspiration, & designs for TTRPGs.

[gender-trash]

publishing companies will be like ~ooh this is a hardcover oooh it's so durable that will be $35~ and then you see the actual book and it's like. "perfect"-bound with endbands glued on crooked and a completely plain paper cover under the dust jacket. my dudes this shit is a mass market paperback with delusions of grandeur

[gender-trash]

now THIS is a hardcover

[just-evo-now]

what does this mean

[gender-trash]

i can explain in more detail with pictures when i get home from work, but executive summary:

both trade paperbacks and mass market paperbacks are usually constructed via perfect binding, where you take a stack of loose-leaf sheets and dunk the spine edge in, basically, hot-melt glue (low-temp thermoplastic with a little flexibility to it). stick a cover on the outside of that bad bitch and you're done. very easy and cheap to manufacture, but not durable; not only does the soft cover provide no protection, pages can fall out individually if the glue fails for whatever reason. (i don't have a picture handy but just grab any mass market paperback off your bookshelf and look at the spine)

typically, or perhaps traditionally, when binding a hardcover ("case-bound") book you assemble the sheets into signatures, which are sewn to each other to form a text block, like so:

(well, admittedly, using both linen tape and french link stitch is sort of the belt-and-suspenders of textblock construction. in my defense though look at the fucking size of this tome) but the point is that even before you've gotten around to gluing anything, the textblock hangs together and functions as a book, albeit an unusually wobbly one -- so if the cover completely falls off or something, the rest of the book still hangs together.

the other method of construction i see on many mass-manufacture hardcovers and some trade paperbacks is that they've folded the signatures and sewn them individually (one at a time, not to each other) -- this is easy to do on a specialized sewing machine -- and *then* potted the spine in glue, like you do for perfect binding. this is less liable to lose pages if you fuck up the spine, because instead of each page being glued in individually, they're sewn together into signatures which provide more glue surface area apiece. (i can post a picture when i get home...)

uhh oh yeah endbands. endbands are the little decorative bits that get glued onto the textblock before it gets cased in -- this is in itself sort of a cheapo mass-manufacture imitation of more traditional sewn endbands, which actually provide some structural stability; modern glued-on endbands are really just decorative. here's a picture of a sewn endband on an example book from the bookbinding museum in sf (left), and a different textblock with endbands glued on (right). (the latter also has mull glued onto it, which is like... starched cheesecloth, kind of? you can use kozo paper here too; it also helps stabilize the spine for extra durability)

anyway on mass-manufacture hardcovers i often see really half-assed endbands that are glued on crooked or slightly undersized or something and i'm like "are you even TRYING" (they are not)

and also usually on recently manufactured books the entire case (the "hard cover" of a case-bound hardcover) is covered in paper, including the hinges, which is a terrible decision because the hinges are the part of the book that MOST needs the durability, being The Primary Moving Part. at least fucking cover the spine and hinges in bookcloth i beg. please. for me

[just-evo-now]

sorry loser you lost me at this

get a real programming language dork.

[gender-trash]

thats why im using it as a clamp and not as a book :p

[gender-trash]

@just-evo-now i am back home! where my books live!! so i can take pictures of the bindings :D

a couple of perfect-bound paperbacks:

the benefit of perfect binding, such as it is, is that all the pages can be aligned with each other and the spine is nice and square. (the other benefit is that it is cheap.) but if you're folding pages into signatures you're always gonna get some creep where the inner pages of the signature extend a little bit further towards the fore-edge [edge opposite the spine] than the outer pages do; you can either leave it like that for a deckled edge or trim it off for a neater finished look. (personally i am not a huge fan of deckled edges but Madame La Guillotine can only handle so much book, you know)

a paperback and a hardcover with the signatures-potted-in-glue style (i wish i knew what it was called):

i quite like the green endband on this hardcover! matches the cover nicely, is an appropriate size, aligned well, etc. (in addition to gluing them on crooked, the other common Endband Sin is to make them too damn short and it looks ridiculous)

the cloth-bound hardcover from the first image in this post, pub date 1978:

as you can see, it has much more flexibility than the potted-in-glue style (which can bend a little bit, but cracks if you open it too far), because the signatures are sewn to each other, with some kind of mystery green paper glued over them for stability (and, deeper in the spine, brown... something. fabric?? some of my other vintage books seem to use thin brown canvas...). no endband, but honestly it doesn't really need one.

and! here is a 1945 pocket handbook for engineers (you know, with useful integrals and trig tables and unit conversions and stuff in it) in norwegian, which was falling apart when i got it (i picked it up on the cheap with the intention of hopefully fixing it someday):

the cover is nonfunctional and the stabilizing paper on the spine has gotten so crumbly as to be useless (i got about halfway through peeling it off), but the textblock itself is in pretty good condition, because the signatures are sewn securely to each other -- if you squint you can kinda tell they used kettle stitches on the ends and chain stitches in the middle and i thiiink the chain stitches are where the loose loops on the top came from. anyway, i can pretty much finish peeling off the old crumbly paper stuff and glue on some new kozo paper (and ensure the loose loops are tucked safely away/glued down) and this bad bitch will be ready for a new cover!

[macleod]

I am really going to have to start paying attention to book binding going forward.

[esoanem]

(via @trans-cuchulainn )

[stuckinapril]

At your girl’s house telling her that sometimes things must be done not for the sake of building a resume but for the sake of keeping the heart soft and aglow

[comfortfoodcontent]

1995 Chrono Trigger for Super Famicom Commercial

[windingcorridor]

In January ‘23, my wife was 5 months pregnant with our first child. Our daughter was beginning to kick a lot and my wife had the idea, “You know, she hears me talk all day long at work. Why don’t you read to us at night so she can hear your voice more?”

Redwall was the book I decided to read, and was the first book my daughter ever heard.

I had read most of the series when I was a preteen, since I was lucky enough to go to a grade school that had a library. Most of the books in that now-gone building were your standard middle grade fare: Roald Dahl, Judy Blume, Jack London, that kind of stuff. My school took part in that Pizza Hut BOOK IT! program, so we were incentivized to read and read often. Going through the stacks, 10 year-old me stumbled upon a whole shelf dedicated to this Brian Jacques guy. The cover was neat, too- a mouse? With a sword? “Heck yeah,” I thought. I read one, then another, then another. I ate a lot of pizza that year.

Redwall has become a touch point for so much fiction for a reason. The world is immediately appealing- here we have an abbey built with warm sandstone, populated with mice, badgers, squirrels, moles, etc. They have delicious feasts, talk of legends, have funny dialects, and are good to each other. Their world is then threatened by a horde of evil rats, and the ensuing story is the hero’s journey 101, but is executed wonderfully. There’s a history to Redwall Abbey, and you can feel the world’s promise of deeper lore simmering beneath the surface. Books meant for children aren’t typically this rich, and it’s no surprise Redwall spawned 20+ sequels.

One thing that should be mentioned is that this is story of a war, and that comes with a lot of death. Sometimes, that death is surprisingly violent! Jacques never lingers on it for long and the detail is left mostly up to the reader’s imagination, but for a ten year-old, it did teach me pretty early that violence can be both very cool and very, very awful.

I need to also mention the wonderful chapter head illustrations. More books should have these, in my opinion. Perfect tattoo fodder for, say, a couple looking to commemorate the first story that was read to their newborn daughter?

Speaking of, our daughter, Clover, was born May 2, 2023. Over the course of the last few months, we finished reading Matthias’ story of triumph over the horde of Cluny the Scourge. My wife & I were emotional over the ending, with our daughter cooing between us. Redwall has claimed a forever spot in our hearts.

We immediately started in on Mossflower, the sequel. Here’s to many, many more tales of heroic mice, dastardly villains, and food so delicious you can smell it off the page.

[takoxuls]

This year I got to work on a tabletop RPG doing some MonHun inspired characters and it was a ton of fun ✨ The game revolves around the wilders, mutated rangers that try to stop the frenzy, a virus that makes monsters violent and self-destructive. Not only hunters but also chefs! WILDERFEAST is live on kickstarter right now, you can check all about it and support it here!

[windingcorridor]

These vibes are fantastic. More Delicious Dungeon in my TTRPGs please ❤️

[windingcorridor]

Manhunt is a life-changer, the kind of book that shifts your insides around and makes room for itself. I finished it at 3am last night, and have been wandering around the house since. I feel hollowed out. I want to- need to- read it again. Christ.

This book has a ton of Content Warnings, some stemming from genre, most stemming from its premise and perspective. CW: transphobia, dead-naming, cannibalism, dysphoria, rape, implied incest, fatphobia, public execution, slavery, torture, body horror.

Disclaimer: I'm writing this review from my perspective as a man exploring their gender, folding in They/ Them pronouns with my He/ Him. While I have considered in myself whether or not I am a woman, I don't think I am. Do with that info what you will.

I found Manhunt on a recommendation shelf at my local bookstore- shout out to Eagle Eye Books in Decatur, GA- and its cover grabbed me instantly. It's a shocking image, blunt in its implication and color. It's a fitting one, too, echoing the words inside. You're going to get grabbed and the story isn't going to let go until the last.

You can get a synopsis for the thing anywhere, so no need here. Just know that Fran & Beth's story starts with the punchline- "What if being a man turned you into a rage zombie?"- and runs red with it. Being a trans woman is already goddam hard in the real world- now imagine people looking at you the same way people in zombie movies look at people who have been bit. It's a fantastic grounding device, with Felker-Martin using it as a jumping off point to point out how fucked transphobia can get.

Speaking of rage, this book is so full of anger and hatred, righteous and otherwise. It smacks you, not just inside the content but with its construction. Felker-Martin hates transphobes, trustfund child-adults, people who will put a hashtag on their twitter profile but never do anything. She never writes this out explicitly, but the way th`e story is told? Buddy, she makes that very clear.

The characters are deliciously complex. You start with easy sketches- the pretty one, the strong one, the fat one, the TERF, the trans man, etc- but you hop from perspective to perspective often enough that things begin to mold into a rich picture.

(If I have any criticism of the book at all, it's that, occasionally, we shift perspective so fast and often that timelines can get wobbly. I'll think it's only been a few hours in-story, but then a character will mention it's been a few weeks. It course corrects cleanly, though, and never became too much of an issue.)

One of the perspective characters- Ramona- is a part of The Legion, militarized TERFs who have taken over huge swaths of the US in name of eradicating "men wearing womanface." Thing is, Ramona has a thing for trans women. By day, she's an XX chromosome tattoo wearing Nazi, by night she's sleeping with a trans lover in a secret brothel. She hates her hypocrisy (so many of the characters ooze self-hatred), but she is so caught up in the fervor of her movement that she can't slow down.

These contradictions cover the whole cast. At times, I hated them. Others, I loved them. By the end, all I wanted to do is spend more time with them.

It's here I want to say- I love you, Beth. It's obvious that the author loves you, too. Not in the "here's-some-plot-armor" way, the book isn't cheap like that. The author writes Beth and all of the other trans characters with so much empathy, personal history, and heart, it's difficult not to see them as breathing, beautiful people.

When you have a book like this- one that moves at so much force- you worry that there isn't a way in hell that it will stick the ending. Happy to report that as much of a power-drill the last act is, I left the book satisfied. I, alone in my living room, warm forgotten beer on the coffee table, wife and daughter asleep in the next room, muttered, "Whoa," when I read the last paragraph.

So, yeah. Read Manhunt. It isn't for everyone. The best art never is. But if you allow yourself to be taken by it, hold on.

Nick <3