I sometimes question the purpose of thse posts. Who are they for? What’s their function?
Perhaps they’re simply part of the process.. a way of testing ideas, refining the tone, and keeping the creative muscle active. Writing, after all, is iterative. These posts allow space to experiment with pace and structure. Shorter, shorter sentences. Direct reflection. Less formality. A rehearsal of voice.
As September arrives, the timeline sharpens. A draft is due in January 2026. The research is largely complete and the chapters structured. What remains is the most demanding phase: rewriting. Adapting academic chapters into a book for a broader audience requires recalibration. There are seven chapters, each needing tightening, refining, and re-voicing. The task is substantial, but purposeful.
This project differs from the thesis. Hopefully, it’s slightly left of centre, grounded in rigorous research but willing to move beyond conventional historiography. A social narrative sits alongside architectural analysis, and the tone must carry both weight and accessibility. That balance takes time.
Much of the recent focus has turned toward images..
The thesis contained 114 illustrations. The book may include up to 150. Three-quarters of the originals remain relevant; others require reconsideration. Additional material from external archives could enrich the narrative further. The book will not be a picture book, but imagery really matters in architectural history. Photographs and sketches do more than illustrate, they contextualise, persuade and provoke.
Selecting images is one challenge. Securing permissions is another..
Over recent weeks, I’ve contacted archivists, photographers, estates, and publishers. Some responses are swift and generous. Others are complex. Rights are fragmented. Ownership unclear. Some photographers are no longer alive. Even when images appear in journals or institutional collections, formal consent remains necessary. The administrative process is slow but essential. Each confirmed permission reduces uncertainty.
Then comes curation..
What makes a good image in a scholarly book? Content alone is insufficient. Placement matters. Sequence matters. Proximity to text matters. The balance between image and argument must feel deliberate rather than decorative. Roland Barthes’ idea of the punctum makes complete sense here; the elements within an image that stop the viewer in their gaze and and invites deeper inquiry. Not every image requires extended analysis, but each must justify its presence.
The aim is clarity rather than excess..
Where possible, material from the University’s Archives and Special Collections will anchor the visual narrative. Supplementary images from external sources may provide additional texture. Together, they should support the broader story of campus transformation and civic identity.
For now, one architectural perspective sketch of Salford Precinct will suffice. Fortunately, this one presents no copyright complications as it’s via Salford Local History Library. A small victory!
The writing continues. The editing continues. The curation continues. All part of producing a book that aims to do justice to both place and period.
Interior perspective: Alexander Duncan Bell. Taken from City of Salford: Ellor Street Redevelopment Area: Report on Plan (Matthew & Johnson-Marshall, 1963).
