In the “good old days” it came as an exciting package in the mail. Now it is just one more email, once again one I was on the verge of deleting because it came from someone I don’t know. It was the title that caught my eye.

I had just finished with a Zoom committee meeting and was planning to make supper, but my plans suddenly changed. I opened the email which was filled with enough instruction to give anyone pause, and immediately downloaded the multiple files—the typeset copy of my book, instructions for editing, and directions for how to notate changes. Suddenly, what had looked like a fairly relaxed week became much more focused.

Ignoring all the files of instruction I opened the typeset copy. It no longer looked like the familiar document I have been working on for several years (Times New Roman, 12 pt, double-spaced) it now looked like a real book, even though I couldn’t hold it in my hands.

I spent the evening printing out the whole book accompanied by the requisite number of printer glitches. It seemed a lot of printing, but my directions suggested doing so because it’s a better way to notice mistakes. I didn’t want to start reading though for fear I’d have trouble sleeping. I needed to slow down, not speed up before bedtime. The editing could wait for another day. I was poised to begin a new chapter in this process of getting a book into print. I knew that the draft of a blog entry I had been writing, would languish unfinished until I sent off the corrected copy. This short note is coming in its place

On another topic . . .

With the arrival of the typeset book, I was doubly relieved to have my pottery project finished. A number of you asked to see pictures of the pieces after they were fired, so here are a few shots taken by Wayne.

I’m off now to proofreading, a task that will take days and several pairs of eyes, since I’m not good at noticing mistakes. Wayne and my sister Dorothy Jean will go over it with their alert eyes and hopefully catch what I don’t. Any word changes made will be mine, but I’m limited in how much of that I can do. The time for rewriting has passed.