Julian Writes: first tentative steps to my Audiobook Ambitions

Had lunch alone today (by choice). Spent the hour mapping out what I’m calling Project Serve & Verb™ i.e. the re-imagining of Confessions of An Ageing Tennis Player for the sonic age.

Phase 1: secure producer credit (through charm or proximity).
Phase 2: negotiate subtle but frequent mentions of my name in behind-the-scenes materials.
Phase 3: become the voice of Nick Owen Publishing — literally.
Paul walked past while I was rehearsing the line “Love all, except when it hurts.”
He didn’t comment. He just looked at me in that way illustrators do when they realise someone might soon be paid more than them.
I must protect this idea.
Also: check if HR can trademark my voice.

Julian Writes: the Audiobook as my Journey to Personal Salvation

I overheard Nick on the phone this morning saying the words “audiobook rights.” He said them casually, as if he were asking for milk. I had to leave the office immediately and stand in the stairwell to breathe.

An audiobook changes everything. It’s not just a format — it’s an experience. And experiences are what I market best (I said that once at a conference in Milton Keynes).

I’m already picturing the campaign: “Hear the Sweat. Feel the Spin. Confess Differently.” Could I narrate it myself? My voice has range — somewhere between a BBC continuity announcer and emotional gravel.

Note to self: research microphones. And acting lessons.

Julian Writes: the Mediation

Nick called us both into his office. He looked at me, then at Paul, then at the stack of clashing mock-ups between us.

“Julian,” he said, “you’ve created a bold, forward-thinking identity that risks alienating everyone.” Then to Paul: “And you’ve drawn the marketing team hanging from a racquet.” Paul said, “That was symbolic.” There was a long protracted silence.  It could have felt awkward for some but I felt fine and composed a future email to Paul in my head: “Hey Paul a  good meeting today I thought! I think we found common ground: keeping the humanity but updating the energy. Let’s build from there.”

Some hours later, Paul had responded.

“Sure. I’ll start by sketching humanity. You can add the energy in Helvetica later.” And then threatened to illustrate my PowerPoint. 

I took an extended power nap. Brand direction was clearly going to remain unresolved for some time. But I remain optimistic that the new Helvetica will heal all wounds.

Julian Writes: the Typography Summit

I held what I called a “Visual Values Alignment Session.” Paul called it “a hostage situation in Helvetica.” He objected to my proposed series font, “Bebas Neue,” which he described as “looking like an angry barcode.” I said it communicated discipline. He said it communicated dictatorship. I opted to adopt my reasonable tone.

Me:     Paul, if the eye can’t rest, the mind can’t wander. That’s good branding.

Paul:   Julian, if the eye can’t rest, the book gives you a migraine. That’s bad reading.”

I shrugged but sent over my digital mock-ups for the box set regardless.  Each book now features a minimalist racquet silhouette intersected by diagonal light bars. The subtitle floats above it in bold white. I called it “Motion. Emotion. Devotion.”

Paul replied with an attachment named “Corrected.” It was the same image, except he’d drawn tiny, exhausted cartoon tennis players dangling from the light bars, looking like they wanted to die.  I said  I appreciated his engagement with the concept.

Me:  The dangling players… I love the energy but maybe too they’re too tragicomic for Q4?

Paul:   The dangling players are the concept.

This was going to take a lot longer than I had envisaged.

Julian Writes: On a Mission!

Nick tells me in hushed tones that NOP is preparing to re-launch the four books of the Confessions of an Ageing tennis player series as a box set in time for Christmas. He’s firm about keeping  the brand identity intact but I think this is a great opportunity to completely overhaul the visual content of the books.  This will probably mean overhauling the work of Paul Warren, the company’s illustrator since the year dot but fair heart never won fair lady, no woman no cry and no revolution started without breaking a few eggs. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.

I woke up inspired: “New Christmas. New Look. New Legacy.” I thought, donning my lederhosen for the first time this season.  The Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player series has, frankly, been visually static for years. Paul’s pastel illustrations are charming, but also a bit… heritage-brand tea towel.

I pitched Nick the idea of a total visual overhaul: dynamic typography, minimalist palettes, abstract motion lines, “less village fête, more Vogue Italia.” He nodded slowly and said, “Talk to Paul.” Paul arrived ten minutes later, carrying a sketchbook and a mild air of suspicion.  I don’t remember the conversation too clearly but it went something like:

Me:      Paul, great to see you today! I’m imagining something fresh, energetic, and digitally native. Think Federer meets Bauhaus. Can we move away from pencils toward pixels?

Paul:    Julian, I’ll think on it. Though last time I checked, Federer didn’t play on tracing paper.

Nonplussed, I presented my “Mood Board of Momentum.” Paul stared at it in silence for nearly a minute before asking, “Is this tennis or modern dentistry?” I explained that we were aiming for movement and light, not people and charm. He asked whether readers would recognise the characters if their faces were replaced by gradient circles and then proceeded to rub salt into the wound.

Paul: Julian, I’ve reviewed your concept deck. It appears to feature no human beings, no rackets, and no tennis. Just blue shapes. Is this a metaphor, or a cry for help?”

Me: (hurt)   It’s a visual simplification strategy, Paul. The human mind completes the image. Minimalism equals memory retention.

Paul:       My human mind completed the image. It’s an ad for an insurance firm.

Something was telling me we were not getting along just fine. I decided to organise a Visual Values Alignment Session and trotted off to prise Nick away from the mini-bar in his office and appraise him of my assessment of the situation.