I've recently become the proud owner of this early 20th century handbook:
It contains everything you needed to know about everything, from handling your finances to keeping chickens to staining your musical instruments.
|No more excuses for shoddy cement. I'm looking at you, Al Capone.|
Needless to say, I am now significantly more well-informed than the rest of you, and will have a much greater chance of survival during the zombie/vampire/unfinished wood apocalypse.
But I am nothing if not astonishingly magnanimous, so I thought I would share two excerpts that will be particularly useful to writers.
The first, of course, is how to make your own writing desk:
(Click to enlarge.)
|Your homemade desk looks like a million bucks! |
(Literally, with prices adjusted for inflation.)
And when you're done with your desk, you only need to make yourself some new ink, and you're all set to go!
|Beats the heck out of tickling squids.|
That's how they get it, right? Tickling?
So what are you waiting for? The Great American Novel awaits! Here, I'll get you started: Once upon a time, there were two middle-to-upper-class families. Or maybe three. And there were, like, a hundred people in each family, who I will now name one by one, even though you won't be able to keep most of them straight anyway...
Ah. Potassium bicromate, logwood extract, borax, shellac, and ammonia . . . the smell of LITERATURE!