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I’ve built up a large catalog of pamphlets and books over the years that I’ve been producing Corvus Editions—so large a catalog that there would be no question of keeping them all in print, even if there were more obvious outlets for the sort of publication that I do. Of course, a significant portion of the Corvus catalog has always been texts that seemed to meet some particular need in the moment and lose much of their interest when that particular moment has passed. But there is a portion of the catalog seems to retain a perennial, if not particularly intense, interest, and I’ve meant for some time to make those titles more accessible. There are also a number of book-length works that fall outside the commercial envelope for even anarchist publishers, but would probably fill a need if I went ahead and prepared them.
After weighing a number of options, I’ve decided to supplement the more DIY side of Corvus Editions with some print-on-demand titles, published through Lulu.
The first of those is An Account of a Voyage from the Arctic to the Antarctic Pole by way of the Center of the Earth, my translation of a 1721 French hollow earth adventure, which is now available for $5 plus postage in a slim trade paperback edition.
More titles will follow in the near future. I’m currently working on an edition of The Apparition of the Air, my collection of journalistic accounts of the 1896 California “mystery airship” scare, as well as the first of several collections of works by Dyer D. Lum. I expect that the economics of the book business will mean that much of my documentation of the early years of anarchist thought will probably be best suited to the print-on-demand format as well, so I’m also working to plot out a publishing strategy for that material. New titles will appear on the Corvus Editions spotlight page at Lulu.
For future releases, I expect that I will be combining some of the DIY spirit of the Corvus Project with the POD character of this new endeavor, providing a limited number of copies of each release with custom dust-jackets, enhanced covers, signatures and numbers, etc. But the Account of a Voyage is a modest first step, with none of those extra bells and whistles. And it is there, in an equally modest, but I hope also an attractive edition, for anyone whose tastes run to imaginary voyages, the hollow earth, the natural history of places that don’t exist or barely tamed run-on sentences. It is a peculiar joy, but a joy nonetheless, so give a click in the sidebar if it sounds like it might be your kind of thing.