Almost a year and a half ago, my good friend Stu reached out one morning with a
question:
Could I, indeed! I had not too long before started teaching myself bookbinding
techniques by watching DAS
Bookbinding videos on YouTube, and
had taken a few tentativesteps myself, acquiring or making
tools and supplies to do it.
Stu's project was certainly bigger, but I felt up for the task, and readily
agreed. I ordered the book off eBay and some additional supplies I anticipated
needing and set to work assessing the state of the book. It would prove to be
eighteen months of learning, false starts, and procrastination before
ultimately coming together just before attending the most recent Geek Flea in
Stu's hometown.
Around this time, I discovered Four Key Book
Arts, another YouTube channel and
Dennis had recently posted a
three-partseries on restoring a book
of very nearly the same vintage as Sea & Land. It was the perfect tutorial as I
had to perform almost exactly the same repairs.
Assessing the cover
The book arrived, and I was immediately impressed by its bulk, despite its
small stature. The front cover and spine were completely separated, and the
back cover was hanging on literally by a few threads.
Removing the cover
A deft stroke with a razor blade and the back cover was off. I was reasonably
certain by this point that the original cover wouldn't be, uh, recoverable.
With the text block fully free, it was time to look at their overall condition.
Examining the signatures
The signatures all looked complete, and I could tell that they'd undergone a
rounding process before that left a thick shoulder consistent with the
thickness of the cover. But once they all came apart, they'd need to be
re-flattened, or "knocked down".
Hidden treasures
Looking through the book itself, I came across an original note from some
previous owner's sibling, as well as a few pressed flowers and plants.
Matching the endpapers
Given the title of the book, I decided to go with a gold and blue marbled
paper. I felt it would match the period in looks and suit the theme well.
Building the lying press
The first side quest! In order to perform many of the actions I'd signed up
for, I knew I needed at least a lying press. Basically a modified Moxon Vise,
it would need to be beefy enough to handle an 800-page book and strong enough
to apply the pressures needed for treating the text block as a solid unit. I
was, at this point, tuned into a number of YouTube creators, and Darbin Orvar
had a wonderful video
detailing the creation of a book vise (lying press) and book plough.
Separating the signatures
With the press made, it was time to resume deconstructing the text block. I'd
spread a mixture of methylcellulose on the spine to loosen the remaining glue
and paper sediment, and to my surprise found staples holding the signatures
together, rather than thread as I'd expected. While delicate, they all were
more or less solid and bent easily with some tweezers and patience. I didn't
understand the pattern of the staples, and ultimately it wouldn't matter as I'd
decided I was going to sew the text block back together.
Knocking down the signatures
Before I could reassemble them (or even guard the folds), I needed to remove
any curve at the spine edge of the signatures. This is a process called
"knocking down", and it usually involves a very flat, very sturdy iron. You lay
the spine edge on the iron and gently whack the signature with a broad, flat
hammer. Just enough to remove the curve and leave the signature more or less
flat. I could tell it would be most important with the first and last
signatures.
Guarding the signatures
Since these signatures had been stapled and I saw no sign of tape or banding
across the spine, I knew I'd be punching new holes in the signatures to
accommodate them. That would require reinforcing, or "guarding" each signature
with a small strip of thin but sturdy cloth, just one per signature would be
enough, so long as the inner-most sheet of the signature's fold was secure.
These were brushed with a coat of methylcellulose and applied along the spine
of each signature, then carefully folded over and set aside to dry.
Burnishing the endpapers
To elevate the endpapers a bit, I applied a light coating of beeswax and
burnished it into the paper, giving it a glossy sheen, as well as a delightful
smell. This would protect the endpaper and give it a little moisture
protection. Usually you would use an agate burnisher, but since I didn't have
one, I used the smooth face of the hammer I'd used for knocking down the
signatures.
Marking the text block
With the signatures all dried and trimmed, I lined them up, double checking the
order several times, and drew layout lines where the initial sewing holes would
be as well as where the tapes would lie across the spine.
Punching the signatures
Second side quest! To more easily ensure common placement for the signature
sewing holes, I built a signature cradle. A v-shaped trough with one reference
edge. Place a signature folded open along the bottom, push the head (or tail,
but be consistent) against the reference edge, and using a template, punch
holes using an awl cleanly through the fold of the signature. The two wings of
the cradle have a gap at the bottom a few millimeters wide to allow the awl to
pass through the papers completely. When all the signatures were punched, I
added a reference line across the spine to ensure correct ordering (I should
have done it earlier).
Sewing the text block
Third side quest! I ended up building, but not using (at least for this
project), a sewing frame. I found it easier ultimately to elevate the text
block and manually align and adjust the signatures. I chose a relatively thick
thread and applied a very thin layer of beeswax to help it smoothly travel
through the holes in the signatures. I knew that a properly sewn text block
should be able to withstand 20-25% swell on the spine side, but this thread
ended up being too thick when applied to each signature, and clocked in at 30%
swell. So I put the project aside for a while to consider alternate approaches.
Undoing the text block
I had to completely undo the entire text block and carefully remove all the
stitching to ensure the holes weren't torn or made too loose.
Resewing the text block
I watched DAS's video on
two-on sewing several times to make sure I understood the process. Basically,
it's a technique that allows for less swell at the expense of a slightly less
secure text block by attaching multiple signatures on each run up or down the
spine. In my case, with fifty signatures, I chose an alternating pattern of
two-on and three-on binding. I figured once the spine was glued, under mull,
and bound, it would still prove to be secure. In the end, it was a success, and
brought the swell at the spine down to 18%! Much easier and fully within
optimal range.
Gluing the spine
The text block was back together and strong and secure, despite the change in
sewing technique, and it was time to strengthen and reinforce it with glue. It
was important to avoid the tapes so the back could be properly rounded later.
Rounding the text block
In order to round the text block, you would normally have shouldering irons
that would catch the force of the blows applied to the signatures and help fold
them over, forming the shoulder. I didn't have shouldering irons, so I made
some. Two lengths of steel plate, pre-drilled, were screwed to some rabbets I
routered out of a pair of plywood boards. In the end, I went pretty easy on the
text block as I was afraid to put too much stress on the spine.
Strengthening the spine, pt 1
Now it was time for the first round of spine strengthening. A layer of glue, then mull laid down on it, then sandwiched with more glue, impregnated the mull and tapes with glue, forming a solid layer from head to tail.
Sewing the bands
The first time I bound a book, I made decorative head and tail bands, but they
weren't very structural. For this book, I felt it needed as much support and
reinforcement as I could give it. Plus, sewn head and tail bands would be more
period appropriate and be an opportunity to again show off some theming. I
chose blue and green threads (sea and land) and firmed up some paper cord with
PVA glue to act as the core of the bands. I identified the centers of the
signatures, and started the wrapping process. If you've ever made friendship
bracelets as a kid, you'd probably recognize the process. Every so often, the
whole structure would get sewn into the book via the fold in the signature with
the thread coming out the back of the spine. Ideally, it's done underneath the
first sewn line of knots across the spine, further strengthening the structure.
Like many parts of this project, I would have benefitted from starting with the
side least likely to be seen regularly, but I didn't. Head first, literally and
figuratively.
Strengthening the spine, pt 2
Next came a spine stiffener, and piece of cardstock glued and smoothed down,
followed by the hollow, a structural piece that would allow the spine's cloth
to fold open without creasing on itself.
Making the tabs
The two waste sheets on the front and back of the book were now folded down in
thirds, and sandwiched with glue, binding the remaining mull and tape within
it. About this time, I also managed to pick up an antique nipping press
locally. Having steady pressure, equally applied would be pretty crucial
throughout the remainder of the process.
Assembling the boards
I had determined that the cover boards would be 4mm thick, but made by
laminating two 2mm boards, leaving the last third unglued along the edge of the
spine. That gap would eventually take the tabs I'd just made and fully secure
the covers to the spine. At this point, it's a book!
Creating the deboss cards
Since I was not reusing the original covers, but I wanted to pay homage to its
design, I traced the title lettering in Affinity Designer and turned it into an
SVG, which I could scale and place and make full cover size. I cut it out with
a Cricut at the studio and glued the cardstock to
the cover boards and set them to dry in the press.
Clothing the book
The book was structured, but still vulnerable. Gluing down book cloth and
putting it in the press allowed the cloth to be debossed into the stencil I cut
out. I was in a bit of a rush, and the blotter paper I used outside the book
met up with some glue coming through the book cloth, and left little fuzzy
bits.
Attaching endpapers
The last step was attaching the endpapers, fully connecfting and making secure
the cover to the text block. A mixture of PVA glue and methylcellulose gives a
bit more working time and allows the endpapers to be smoothed against the cover
boards. The cover boards had bowed slightly as the cloth compressed, and gluing
the endpapers inside would counter that bend and the tension would pull them
back flat.
Assembling the shadowbox
The back cover had no decoration or ornamentation, but the front cover and
spine still retained some of their former beauty. In addition, the personal
note and pressed flowers found in the book all made for a nice memento of the
book's former life. I mounted them all in a shadow box, which would accompany
the book and get presented to Stu.
Ready for presentation
I drove up the morning of Geek Flea with the book still in the nipping press,
where it had sat overnight, receiving as much pressure as I could muster and as
much time as I could give it. When I finally pulled it out the press, it was as
much a surprise to me as it was to Stu, and I couldn't have been more pleased
with how well it all turned out.
The next step for me is to try and recreate the original cover artwork as a
dust jacket so Stu will have something other than a grey spine to look at on
his shelf.
Have I mentioned that I love mechanical keyboards? I have? Well, I’ve just
finished up another little project, and I’m typing on it right now. It’s
considerably smaller than the Nimitz,
but just as satisfyingly clicky.
The Hook
I don’t remember exactly what prompted me to visit
this picture,
but I was utterly captivated when I saw it. You’ll recall, I have several
spares. I have switches, keycaps, and solder. All I need is a custom PCB and a
GH60 case. Help me, Hasu. I
ordered one set of the PCB and plates. I still have two spare keyboards, having
built a second Teensy adapter so I could leave one keyboard at work and one at
my studio. This keyboard is so much smaller, I can actually fit it in my bag
and tote it along with me, and I have future plans to make it a truly on-the-go
tool.
Desoldering switches
The Apple Extended Keyboard II disassembles pretty easily. There’s only one
screw, and a minimal amount of prying to get the case open. A keycap puller
gets the switches clear for removal. Luckily, the only keycap that had problems
on this keyboard was the help key. Who needs that, with
Geek Hack and Deskthority
available? Slow and steady gets the switches desoldered. Several of them had
the pins bent down, presumably to make a better connection. Patience and needle
nosed pliers won out in the end, though. Cleared out and bent straight, I had
60 little switches ready to be redeployed.
Cleaning keycaps
Once I had those keycaps off, it was obvious they were filthy. Threw them in a
big, quart-sized Mason jar with some dish washing liquid and warm water,
screwed the lid on, and put them through the gentle cycle. If your keyboard’s
keycaps are removable, do yourself a favor and clean them once in a while. Your
fingertips will thank you. The spacebar keycap is made of ADP rather than PBT,
so it yellows over time, just like the case. I could apply
retr0bright, but I think I’ll just let it be for
the time being.
Folding and soldering diodes
When you order the Alps64 board from Hasu, it requires some assembly. He
includes a strip of diodes that need to be soldered to the board. I suppose he
does this because the board also includes SMT pads if you are crazy and want to
surface mount your own diodes. I opted to fold (using the included little
tool!) each and every one, and aligning them properly (line side goes to the
square pad), solder them all in place. For future reference: use flux and more
solder than you think. I’m pretty sure I’ve got decent connections (I’m typing
this on the keyboard now), but it seemed pretty clear to me that the solder is
really only on one side of the PCB. It’s not that big a deal, but if I were to
do it again, I’d be a bit more generous with the solder and make that
connection as solid as possible.
Soldering switches
The diodes live on the underside of the PCB, hidden from view, so you need to
do them first. Once attached, the switches will sandwich the top plate down and
obscure the top of the PCB. So, you’ll also want to ensure that the leads are
clipped as close as comfortably possible. At this point in the project, I was
actually running low on solder, so I placed the switches, and soldered the four
corners plus the space bar. After acquiring more, it was a simple job to apply
flux to the leads and solder them one row at a time. I tested as I went: hook
up the keyboard, launch TextEdit, and press switches, when you see characters
appearing, you’ve got a good, solid connection. Once I had everything done, I
noticed a few switches weren’t registering. I tested the PCB by bridging the
switch pads with the accompanying diodes with tweezers and seeing characters
typed in TextEdit, so I deduced the switches must be bad. Luckily, going from a
104-key keyboard to a 60-key means you have a reserve supply. I desoldered
three more switches and tested each before fixing them in place.
Installing the PCB and plate
At this point, all the switches were working with the default onboard
keymapping, so I attached the PCB to the case with screws and tested and
retested and retested (a lot of testing). I set all the stabilizers back in,
and attached the largest keycaps first, starting with the space bar.
Installing keycaps
The keycaps are simple enough to install by themselves: just place over the
switch and push down with moderate force until it clicks. With no particular
order to follow, it was kind of fun trying to match muscle memory with where
keys went. When I wasn’t sure, I just looked at my Macbook Pro for
confirmation. Muscles remember, but they don’t talk.
Test drive
I found the default key layout a little wanting. Luckily, the onboard
chipset is completely
programmable, and Hasu provides an online configurator to specify just exactly
how your keyboard should act.
Configuring and flashing the firmware
I used
Hasu’s TMK Keymap Editor
to set up a few layers on my keyboard. It supports up to 7, but I haven’t
explored more than the three I have so far:
In the default layer, most everything is normal, with the exception of the two
control keys in the bottom row.
The left control key activates Layer 1, but only when held, making it a
modifier to enable arrow keys, function keys, and media keys.
Press the right control key, however, and the entire keyboard switches into
mouse mode. I’ve mapped the vim keys for left, down, up, and right to
the corresponding mouse events, left, down, up, and right, and I’ve reused the
standard WASD keys for scrolling behavior. Space bar becomes mouse button 1,
and the right Command key becomes mouse button 2. I now have a fully capable
(if slow, and currently frustration-inducing) mouse mode.
In use
So far, after a day of use, it’s becoming a bit more familiar, and a whole lot
more intuitive. As a heavy vim user, I still get caught up in using the Esc key
on layers 1 or 2. I’ve swapped it to be Esc on Layer 0, but it turns out I
also make heavy use of the backtick and tilde! In the meanwhile, I’m quite
enjoying the aestheic nature of my new keyboard, and the challenge involved in
mastering yet another set of fingertip-driven conventions. With a pleasing
click and a solid build, I’ll give it another 100 years.
Future Plans
There are a couple ideas I’m already exploring in my head:
Bluetooth! There’s a writeup of adding a BT
controller and battery inside the case. There should be enough room to make
that happen, and there are a few other keyboard enthusiasts at work planning
on just such a project for theirs.
3D printing a new case that doesn’t leave the top plate and switches so
exposed.
I’ve modified my firmware again to map the key to LCTL, and now the keyboard
converter will always send Control when that key is pressed, regardless of OS
settings. In fact, it’ll send Control regardless of OS.
I realized that in my first post
about my new keyboard, I didn’t really explain the process to build the
firmware for the Teensy 2.0 microcontroller. Since then, I’ve modified my
keymap to
swap caps lock with control,
and now I’ve added back in most of the media key functionality. I’ll show you
how to do that now, and explain the compilation process.
Getting the Tools
There are two tools required for compiling and installing the firmware to the
Teensy. The first is
CrossPack by Objective
Development. The tools are installed into /usr/local/CrossPack-AVR/bin/, so
you’ll want to add that directory to your $PATH environment variable, either
permanently or during compilation. The examples below will use the latter.
To install the resulting firmware code onto the Teensy, you’ll need the
Teensy Loader application.
Both these tools predate the signing requirements to get past OS X’s
quarantine, so you’ll need to open them via context menu in the Finder.
Getting the Code
You’ll need a copy of hasu’s tmk_keyboard project:
$ git clone git@github.com:tmk/tmk_keyboard.git
Modifying the Keymap
We’ll start with the keymap_ansi.c file and modify it. The ANSI layout makes a
very sensible default for the stock keyboard, since it uses the locking caps
lock.
$ cd tmk_keyboard/converter/adb_usb/
$ cp keymap_ansi.c keymap_zbir.c
To create media keys, we’ll need to add another keyboard layer to our keymap.
We can duplicate the base layer, and change one key’s code to be FN0. In my
case, I’ve chosen the Print Screen key. I’ve designated its action to be
ACTION_LAYER_MOMENTARY to switch to layer 1, which has the media keys assigned
to F7 through F12.
By default, with nothing specified, the Makefile will compile keymap_ansi.c.
You can specify a KEYMAP parameter to make to choose an alternate. It matches
the part of the filename like this: keymap_{KEYMAP}.c. Remember to include
the CrossPack AVR location in your $PATH:
$ set PATH /usr/local/CrossPack-AVR/bin $PATH; make KEYMAP=zbir
This will create a number of output files, but we’re interested in
adb_usb_lufa.hex, as that’s the file format Teensy Loader will install.
Installing the Firmware
Launch the Teensy app. It’s just one little window. Isn’t it cute? Four little
buttons along the top. Press the reset button on the Teensy itself to start the
conversation. Click the first button to locate your .hex file. Click the second
to erase the Teensy and install the new firmware. Click the third button to
reboot the Teensy. Don’t bother with Automatic Mode.
You’re done! If you use a layout like mine, pressing Print Screen and F8 will
play/pause iTunes. And since it’s part of the firmware, it works and sends the
same commands no matter what computer you plug the keyboard into (or if you use
a virtual KV like Teleport, no matter which computer is receiving the keyboard
and mouse events).
So, one of the first things I wanted to do with my newly resurrected
Apple Extended Keyboard II was
to return to the “proper” behavior with respect to the horribly misplaced Caps
Lock key.
As a developer, I make extensive use of OS X’s built-in text editing features,
many of which have origins in UNIX. I use a lot of Control key shortcuts:
Control-A to go to the beginning of a line, Control-E to go to the end,
Control-N to advance to the next line, Control-P to go to the previous line,
and so on… I don’t know the whole history of keyboard hardware development, but
I’m sure there was some reason why Caps Lock got the placement it did, wrong as
it was. Personally, I find using Control works much better situated next to the
‘A’ key.
Normally, OS X makes it very easy to change the behavior of the Caps Lock key
(as we’ll see below). However, Apple’s mechanical keyboards use locking Alps
key switches, which behave as a key-down-key-up with each press, rather than as
a momentary key-down like other modifier keys. This means the OS can’t simply
treat it as it does a non-locking switch (like on Apple’s new keyboards). These
locking switches are easily modifiable though, as I’ll explain.
There are three parts to upgrading your Caps Lock to Control: One mechanical,
one in the firmware of the adapter, and one in the OS.
[Edit 2015-01-19]: Actually, you don’t even need to fiddle with the OS.
You can just change the firmware
Mechanical
You’ll need to remove the keycap of the Caps Lock key. I have a wire keycap
puller, but if you exhibit a bit of care, you can gently pry the keycaps
off.
You’ll need to gently remove the inner sleeve of the key switch. Watch
this video to see the process
in action. This is the housing where you’ll be able to remove the locking pin.
If you accidentally pry out the entire switch, like I did, the best that will
happen is you’ll break the soldering connection on the board, like I did, and
have to clean it up, and re-solder, or you’ll damage the switch, possibly
irrevocably. I was not too thrilled about prying out the entire switch, but I
managed to reseat it, and get it cleanly soldered again.
With the inner housing removed, use tweezers to remove the small, plastic
locking pin. Now you have a regular switch. Gently replace the housing in
the switch, and replace the keycap. I saved the pin because reasons.
Firmware
All you need to change in Hasu’s tmk code is the keymap code for the Caps Lock
key in keymap_ansi.c: