Book Review – How To Traumatize Your Children

How To Traumatize Your Children is one in a series of intentionally dubious “how-to” books by the publisher Knock Knock. Artfully called the “self-hurt” series, these books are put together like a standard how-to or field guide, but cover topics that one would likely rather not have happen. So it’s all a joke, kindof, and if you see the cover and think it looks funny, you’ll probably think it’s funny.

The construction of the book itself is very nice, with a plastic-y feeling cover that reminds one of water-resistant guidebooks or first aid manuals. It’s a nice size and it feels good in the hand, being both substantial and slightly textured, though it is prone to creasing, and when it does it is quite unsightly. The pages are nice and thick, with a substantial binding that really locks everything in place. The presentation is just really nice and evocative. I’m a fan.

Unfortunately, once inside things start to go downhill a little bit. The book is divided into 10 chapters, 7 of which are various types of parenting styles, bookended by an introduction and conclusion like this is some kind of essay. It starts off pretty funny, with an interesting rationalization for the book’s existence at the front and a nice step-by-step guide on how to traumatize kids in different ways. The first problem here is the graphic design: little yellow “bubbles” with competing thoughts start to pop up in chapters as little asides, but these quickly start coming in between connected paragraphs, or in some case in the middle of paragraphs, running the flow of reading into a brick wall at inopportune moments. And the second is that the joke gets old pretty fast, and the writer(s?) makes no attempt to get more creative with it as time goes on. While the book lists many “different” parenting styles, they all end up being described in the same way, and the list of effects they have on the children is essentially unchanged each chapter. There’s nothing new, it just keeps talking and talking and talking. If I had read the introduction, two middle chapters at random, and then the conclusion, I would’ve gotten all this book had to give me, and maybe even had a better experience.

It’s not too egregious, and I wasn’t frustrated or angry as I continued, but it just got boring. And for a book that is basically a joke, that’s forgivable. I don’t think anyone was really intended to read the entire thing. It seems more like something you’d leave lying around for when guests come around, or give as a gag gift (or get tricked into buying at a store) that someone will pick up, laugh, leaf through a few pages, laugh again, and then put down. And it does that quite well. Whether or not that’s worth the cover price is up to you.

I was disappointed, but only mildly. My expectations for a book called How To Traumatize Your Children were justifiably quite low, and this book actually surpassed them for a moment in the beginning, but failed to live up to its own promise. It’s a well put together item, with well done if… lifeless artwork, and questionable graphic design/layout. The contents are funny, but not too funny, and maybe at bit too cynical. It just left me really ho-hum on the whole matter. If you read the title and thought it sounded funny, this might be the book you’re looking for, but it really has nothing more to offer than that, and to some it might still fall flat.

On Being Disappointed With Your Work

It’s December again (time waits for no man), and that means I should be looking back on the year (or, like most people, drinking to forget it on the next first). I’ve got to say that I’ve been happy with what the year has offered me. It’s been quite a lot, though most of my major projects have turned out to be failures.

Now, even though I’d call it a good year, I’m still disappointed with a lot of things I did or didn’t do. I have a very long list of things to improve, and things to do. Like all of those types of lists, it gets longer faster than it gets shorter. That’s why I can’t use these little organizer notebooks. They don’t have an ever-expanding list page. Anyway, there are things I’m disappointed with (like my inability to not go on tangents), and that’s fine.

No one is ever going to be completely satisfied with what they do. There are many healthy ways to look at something that didn’t quite work as you wanted it to and see a way to improve the next time. Because you don’t want to be the “There is an imperfection in my art because only God can create perfection” guy, for more reasons than just blasphemy. It would also discourage improvement. If you only have flaws because perfection is unachievable (or because you chose to not be as good as God), then you should really be doing something amazing in like, science or something

Anyway (damn tangents), the point is it’s okay to be disappointed with your work. There is very rarely a thing I don’t have a problem with, and it’s never my own. For instance I have a book I made that will be on Amazon shortly (two in fact- it’s not a plug because they aren’t available yet) and they are amazing. It’d be hard to be happier with them, but I still see plenty of flaws in both the cover and interior designs (which I did on my own). I know better could be done, and I will strive to do better the next time. But it’s important to let things be done.

While I can look back on things and say they could have been better if I’d spent more time on this, or if I’d been able to see that mistake, I’m not saying those things are bad, or take away from something. I like to let things live once they’ve been created (not continuously changing e.g. George Lucas) and that’s just me. When something is done, it’s done for me. And if I could have done something more to make it better at the time I might not even have known how. Each project allows me to learn more things and do the next one better.  Whether that means higher quality or faster turn-around times, I can always do better.

It’s fine to be disappointed with something, as long as that doesn’t make you stop. As long as it’s less about hating what you’ve done, and more about loving the next thing you do.