The Catalog Crunch OR A Reason to Publish

by Kate Nixon

 

Move over, Taylor Swift. At the risk of potentially becoming a meme, here’s my version of a “Life of a Show Girl”. Or Show Director, rather.

 

 

In addition to gathering exhibitors, small group discussion leaders, demonstrators, workshop instructors, and organizing attendee folders and lists, I’m knee deep in finishing up the publication that has given my younger self (journalism major from a California State college) a boost – the annual Conference Catalog. The catalog is an 88-page creation by conference founder and my predecessor Bruce Johnson as a published space given to all those involved in the conference and a variety of conference supporters. Advertisers, long time attendees, writers and researchers, and the occasional article written by yours truly: they all appear in the catalog. While there are many annual traditions within the catalog, it’s always a clean slate and comes with the usual editor anxieties to figure out what will be featured in the catalog and how to present them.

I’m always proud of it when I get to hold the catalog in my hand. Any whispers of insecurities – asking myself if I made the right choices for stories – are nearly wiped away when I see the whole book. I can’t believe I crunched through 88 pages again. Last year, as you may remember, the catalog became something else. It became my lighthouse. I didn’t have time for insecurities. We were in survival mode.

You see, while my family room was lit by candlelight after Helene wiped out the utilities for much of Asheville’s population for two weeks, I re-read a book on Rookwood Pottery and took notes for an idea I had on the “spooky” motifs of American Art Pottery. Rather than dissolve at the hardship, I attempted to keep my mind active by figuring out who I could get a hold of and what message would the 2025 catalog hold. As soon as we got electricity and a wifi signal, I was jumping back in.

Since books were important to me in keeping up with the research of the era, I remembered a tip from Peter Copeland on a new book of the collaborative works of Harvey Ellis and M. Louise Stowell. I wrote questions in draft after draft to email authors Kerry Schauber and Lauren Tagliaferro. I also made a point to get back in touch with Joy Callaway, author of What The Mountains Remember, last year’s book club selection. I was anxious to get back online since I knew collector Richard Blacher would be sending me images from his collection of books from pre-1920 private presses. Simply gorgeous illustrated pages with vibrant color — I knew this collection would jump off the page at the reader for both its colorful nature and its historic value. I remember breathing and saying to myself, First thing’s first, get your wifi back and figure out your message. Oh and remember to take the buckets down to the pool and grab some more water. 

You can understand how something like this conference and this catalog can give life meaning through hardship. Even continued hardship, when publication costs skyrocket, it’s worthwhile work and work that comes with some pretty steep costs.

I think back even earlier to a networking opportunity around 2023 and telling another woman my age about my efforts with the catalog. She stared at me for a few seconds and said, “You actually spend money printing an 88 page catalog? Why wouldn’t you simply e-publish it and save your money?” After a beat and an attempt to tell this woman that some things are better when you can hold them in your hand and that I don’t need a phone or tablet to enjoy reading, she always came back with “but the cost, the cost…” Yes, it does cost to print these days, but even though I use technology to gather files and place content rather than hand illustrate or literally cut and paste onto the page, it’s still an act of literary passion to publish and come out with an item with some weight behind it.

Look at the recent re-opening of the Roycroft Print Shop. After decades of silence, it has revived with a Roycroftian roar with the re-publication of A Message to Garcia. Could any print shop re-open? Maybe not. But since the print shop was part of the Roycroft legacy and has support from so many donors who know the Arts and Crafts movement, it’s a clear win with intention that Elbert Hubbard’s print shop be revived and engage in the creative artisanal process once more. Very utopian.

In any case, while you wait to see the 2026 version of my catalog debut at the National Arts and Crafts Conference and Shows, here is the digitized version of my “Lighthouse” catalog. Try it. Perhaps by the flicker of candlelight.

No, I’m kidding. Our eyes have been through enough this year.

 

The 2025 National Arts and Crafts Conference Catalog

 

 

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