Inside the factory

I saw my book being born

Julia Raeside holding her newborn at CPI in Chatham, Kent. (Photo: JNR)

Following on from my publishing diary - lightbulb above head all the way to book deal - I decided to go fully nose-to-tail and asked if I could see my hardback rolling off the production line.

I know some authors have no desire to nerd out next to a conveyor belt in high-vis, bursting with pride and happiness as their book becomes a 3D thing. Because they’re cool, and I respect that. But this author absolutely did because she isn’t.

The printing would take place at two sites, luckily both within a couple of hours drive of my house. The second half of the process - the assemblage of the text pages, hard cover and slip cover - was happening at a printworks in Chatham, Kent and I was advised this would be the good bit, the bit I really wanted to see.

And now I know - short of being offered the keys to the whole place - what it feels like to be Charlie Bucket.

My excellent friend, Annemarie, agreed to come with me and “shoot B roll” (I actually said this because I am adorable) while I tried to prevent myself floating up to the ceiling.

Her camera-work was, as it turns out, amazing and she took some very cool time-lapse stuff of conveyor belts.

We met the splendid Justin, who does a lot of these factory tours for curious writers (and is therefore used to the near born-again levels of grinning), and followed him to a boardroom type place where all the components of my soon-to-be book had been laid out for inspection.

Soft cover (top), hardcover with handsome red wibalin (left) and the words themselves (right).

I quietly lost my mind at how beautiful it all looked and, in particular, how my name and the book’s title and the black mic stand were all picked out in a shiny finish. I was told what this was called and then instantly forgot, but it’s something like spot UV. Is that right? Possibly.

Anyway, it looked so vivid and classy and, if you’ll forgive me, actually sexy. We then donned our high-vis jackets and went on a tour of the whole place.

Julia in the AUTHOR high-vis. Do I regret the pose? Perhaps.

We learned (for as long as my memory could hang onto all the information) how ink is applied to aluminium plates and the paper is wound to just the right tension so it prints crisply but doesn’t break.

I do remember that the paper arrives - several times a day - from Sweden and they get through one of the one-tonne rolls about every 20 minutes. I think you can really tell the trees are Swedish in the finished thing.

The tour was timed perfectly so we could get to the final stage of the process to see the first copy of Don’t Make Me Laugh roll off the line. That was a real moment.

It is so hard to describe what it’s like to see a book zooming towards you that represents years of effort, the lonely writing days, the despair, the optimism, the sense of achievement as the feedback started to come in. It was all there in this beautiful package, swiftly followed by a few thousand of its brothers and sisters.

The videos I shot were filmed with over-excited hands. Quite a lot of ‘floor’ and ‘boots’ as I missed the record button altogether. But I did manage to cut together a short montage that partially conveys the head-blowing day we had.

From the TV in reception displaying my name when we arrived to the wall of books by massive, best-selling authors also printed there, the whole day was a surreal blast.

We were treated to lunch while we decompressed back in the boardroom and I gazed at number one - the first hardback off the production line and now the most precious thing I own.

Don’t Make Me Laugh sitting on a big old pile of wibalin. (Photo: Annemarie Cancienne)

Isn’t she a beauty?

Don’t Make Me Laugh is out on 13th February.