Artist Story: Zach Plague
What is featherproof books? What is Bleached Whale Design? And how do they interact?

Zach Plague, photo: Nathan Kirkman
Bleached Whale came first. It is a design studio I started with Keith Streble in 2004. featherproof was started in 2005, by Jonathan Messinger and myself, over a falafel lunch break from our day jobs. I was a designer at TimeOut Chicago, and Jonathan is still the books editor there. I wanted to bring more design to literature. Jonathan brought important things like spelling and grammar, so it ended up being a good match. I sold my car, a '68 volvo, to fund the start up. And though I miss it, I have to say: it's been worth it.
Bleached Whale always gets the design credits for featherproof books, but really its just me, designing for my own projects.
With such a wide range of outlets and mediums, are you ultimately looking for a single form of visual/literal communication?
I think that'd be like trying to find the unified theory: something that's beyond my grasp. With the boring book, I was interested in seeing the ways that design and writing could be combined and contrasted to create a new experience for a reader. But I'm really fascinated by the range of communication options and how the mode of delivery can change the message. It was really interesting to put the book out in different formats: as posters, as an audio book, as a website, etc. and see how the various forms exerted their own influence on the story at the core of the book. I don't think I'd ever want there to be a single form of communication.
How long did it take you to write the book and how long did it take you to design it? And which came first, the words or the design?
The words first, definitely. It was written in spurts, over the course of four or five years. I would write things down as they happened to me, or even record one-liners or funny things that I might’ve overheard. When the pile seemed to be of sufficient height, I sat down and tried to start putting it in order. I spread hundreds of ‘plot point’ note-cards across a hardwood floor. I merged characters, tore others in half. I think some of that pastiche technique shows though, and the fractured storytelling somehow goes with the content. There were some happy coincidences in the end, the text did come together, in its own weird way.
So, I didn't start the design until I was happy with the text. I wanted each to stand on its own, even though the final form would be a convergence of the two. As long as the writing took, the design went really quickly. Basically a Chicago winter, a pink slip, and a lot of coffee got the job done. I learned that I design a lot faster than I write.
How did the typographical quirks of the book evolve? Why did you want to use so many different fonts?
I suppose they evolved from looking at text through a designer's eye. I think, with books, it’s often assumed that the communication is the text, and so the typography should be invisible. But, as a designer, the type is never invisible to me; it always has a character. It’s always saying something, sometimes even contradicting the raw text. Since typefaces have their own personalities, each character in my book has his or her own typeface. I used different weights and styles within the typefaces to emphasize cadence or meaning within sentences. Rather than ignore such a powerful tool, I wanted design to come to the forefront, and add to the communication of the book. I’m sure some people will find it ‘hard to read,’ and I’m prepared for that criticism. It is unusual. It asks the reader to do some work.
Can you talk about the design details of the book cover a bit?
Sure. I was really excited to use this great photo by Mary Sledd, which I think really captures the mood of the book, all these disaffected slouching teenagers, standing around bored, all dressed exactly the same. I was really happy with how it came out, but I've gotten in a bit of trouble. The cover for 'boring boring…' is a wrap-around, with cut off text, and the full title and author name doesn't appear on the front, but a barcode does. In short, it never would've gotten past a marketing department. Our distributor was against a black and white cover, because color does better in stores. And I got slapped on the wrist by a major chain, because the barcode wasn't in the 'standard' place, on the back. But, for me, the cover is an important artistic part, or maybe extension, of a book. The primary thing I think about when designing a cover is whether or not it's true to the book. Covers that capture the mood and content of an entire story in one image are the most successful covers. So that's what I try and focus on when doing any of the featherproof covers. I hope that I achieved some of that with my own cover.
There seems to be a very tight knit group of other artists and collectives working in the same mode as yourself. Do you work together for a common purpose, or how do you (if you) influence each other?
There's certainly no formal structure. I do love to collaborate with other writers, artists, and designers that I admire. There is so much great stuff happening in this city right now. The dynamic reading scene in Chicago definitely spurred the creation of featherproof. Series like Jonathan's Dollar Store, and the new and awesome Quickies at the Innertown Pub are good examples. When we started featherproof there weren’t too many outlets for publishing, but the past few years have seen a lot of great journals and presses and websites launch. There's an artists' bookstore opening in Pilsen, called No Coast that I'm excited about. The atmosphere in Chicago is very supportive. If you want to start your own thing, there are people who want to check it out. Curiosity is a fantastic thing, and it’s great to have so many curious and creative people in one place.
How will starting at the School of the Art Institute change your creative output?
I'm not sure yet. In a good way I hope! Really, the decision to go back to school was based on a desire to write another book. The last one took me so long, and it was written very casually, whenever I felt like it. I think I need someone to hold my nose to the grindstone a bit, and I hope that school can provide that structure for me. I'm also eager to have more conversations with other artists and writers while making my own stuff. I'm hoping no one notices the irony of writing a satire about art school students, and then shortly thereafter becoming one.
Zach Plague's hybrid typo/graphic novel, boring boring boring boring boring boring boring, was released in August. Bits and parts have appeared in Opium, Proximity, THE2NDHAND, Bagazine, and Take the Handle. The audio version was co-released on Flameshovel Records. In 2007 he was named to Newcity's Top 50 Literary Figures in Chicago, which is where he lives.



