This Marvelous Human Endeavor - Author's Cut

Out of nearly 1,600 articles posted here over 15 years, "This Marvelous Human Endeavor" is the one of which I am most proud (just edging out "To Make Tolerable This Existence" in Volume 6).

When it initially published, I forwarded the link to Jim Mamoulides, editor of The Pennant, and offered to allow the Pen Collectors of America to publish the piece - partly to help promote Volume 8, but mostly because I wanted to share its message with as many readers as possible. Jim was enthusiastic. I was surprised when the editorial team -- typically more reserved -- was likewise enthusiastic.

And then . . . months later, the proof arrived with just a couple days to review and "approve."

I did not approve.

Many of those who do layout think their job is to take an article and make it look pretty. Few of them understand that bad layout can distract from and even diminish an article's content and message. Form must follow function, not impair it.

In my opinion, the initial layout I was sent was a disaster, starting with the most glaring omission of all: this image, the point of the article, was completely left out:

The point of the article, I wrote back, was that during an excursion into an antique mall, I found a few minor things -- nothing significant -- and then I found THIS. The layout grossly overemphasized images of all the stuff I wouldn't normally write home about . . . and the "THIS" was completely left out.

But that image was a grainy cell phone picture, I was told . . . not suitable for publication since it isn't above that arbitrary 300 dots-per-inch threshold the publishing industry prefers. Again, that's part of the story. I didn't have my professional photography studio on hand at the time, and if an image exists at all, it exists to communicate. That somewhat grainy picture conveyed the very real visceral, in-the-moment emotion.

Then there was the disruption in timing. It was clear that pretty pictures came first and the text just filled in the gaps between them. Large images were strewn about the page, interrupting the story itself. 

I'm no armchair critic, and with a few design awards under my belt I thought it more beneficial to light a candle rather than curse the darkness. I edited the PDF I was sent to review, reducing the size of less important images, changed the page breaks to match the timbre of the article, and I sent back an edited version of the PDF. I respect your decision if you decide your designer's version is better, I said.

They decided they liked their version better. Their only concession was to shoehorn a small version of that crucial image into the article -- out of order. 

As you read The Pennant, what was published was not at all what I had in mind. I wanted it to look like this: