Canada based, uses SPD in Berkely. in 1990, Anvil Press was nothing more than a dream. A small, second floor, one-room office for $350 a month, a couple of desks, two PC home computers (as they were called), a light table, waxer, coffee maker, sign for the door, and suddenly we were (sort of) legit. The plan was to produce a lit-mag (subTerrain) and a list of literary books (ambitious, yes, but we didn’t know any better!).
Flyers were made, calls went out, manuscripts slowly began rolling in. Much reading ensued, potential acquisitions were argued over and finally settled on. Sketches, photographs, and cover mock-ups began to appear on the wall over the art area; books were designed – it was all diy, right? We had no idea. A stroll down a blind alley. But we were young(ish), we had time on our side. It was all very organic – fuelled by pots of coffee, day-old baked goods, cigarettes, whisky. Sheafs of paper were handed around – handfuls of poems, stories, novels-in-progress, rants, unclassifiable prose. Ideas, critiques, feedback, revisions, edits, draft upon draft, and finally books being laid out, manuscripts typeset, galleys proofed, corrected, saved as postscript files, and soon, haltingly, nervously sent off on disk by courier to printers across the country where the files would be ripped, output, shot to film, burned to plates, and onto a press that would set the whole process in stone – well, ink and paper. goes on to talking more about how they were set up in a narrative perspective.