Sharpen First
Every woodworking teacher says it, and every beginner skips it. A long morning with a chisel and a stone, and why the first hour of any job belongs to the tool.
Slow work, written down.
Longhand is a weekly letter and a small archive of essays about making things properly: wood, paper, thread, flour and the repairs nobody asked for. Free, every Friday.
Latest essay
All essaysFrom the weekly letter
All 8 issues- No.8
Saved for later
What went into the drawer this month: a finished book, an essay on stones, and a short list of small questions.
- No.7
A plane in October
An hour with an old plane and a board of ash, an announcement about what is coming, and a very small confession about a stool.
- No.6
Flour, again
Feeding a starter that does not care about your schedule, a loaf with a lopsided crust, and the finger test.
- No.5
Notes from the book press
The cased book comes out of the press, what the spine remembers, and a small defence of the thing you cannot unmake.
- No.4
What I would mend first
The inventory of a mending drawer, why visible repair beats invisible, and a note about buttons.
Series, 3 parts
A Book in Three Parts
One small hardback, made from loose paper to finished object: folding, sewing, casing in.
-
Folding the Signatures
Grain, folds and a bone folder, and the discovery that a crease is a decision you make once.
-
Sewing the Text Block
Linen thread, a needle, and the quiet discovery that every stitch has to be right before the next one can begin.
-
Casing In
Glue, board and cloth, a night under a weight, and the moment a pile of thread and paper becomes a book.
More essays
The full archive-
Bread Without a Timer
A year of baking one loaf a week taught me that dough is not a recipe but a conversation, and that the clock on the oven is the least informative thing in the kitchen.
-
Imposition, by Script
Printing a small booklet at home means putting the pages in a strange order. A dozen lines of code can do it, and the exercise explains why a folded book reads the way it does.
-
The Weight of a Line
A guest essay from a letterpress printer on why setting a sentence in metal type makes you write it differently, and what a line of lead knows that a screen does not.
-
Mending in Plain Sight
A guest essay from a textile mender on why visible repair is not a trend but a plain statement of fact, and how to darn a hole in a wool sock in four honest steps.
Browse by subject
Search the archiveA quiet letter, once a week.
Four hundred words from the bench, the kitchen or the desk. Written by hand first, then typed, and sent on Friday morning.