Happy Monday, good week to all.
Last Thursday afternoon I climbed the stairs carrying the 12-gallon clear plastic storage bin when I heard the ding on my iPad. I dropped the bin and dashed to the counter. I had been expecting to hear from Judy, my book designer. My insides did a dance at the prospect of receiving book design proof 3 of my memoir and that is what the text message said. I couldn’t wait to open my email.
A moment before the signal from my iPad, I had been deep into making Christmas decoration choices-which bins needed to come upstairs. The section in our basement designated for storing the many treasures that visit the rest of our home once a year, draws my gratitude every time. After years of accumulating a plethora of decorations, whenever I view the storage area, I feel my heart overflow with joy and nostalgia. The memories of pleasure and fun these ornaments have given to our family and friends become alive as I view the labels of contents protected in the containers.
As excited as I was about turning our home into a festive winter wonderland, I checked out the manuscript for what I hoped to be for the last time. My brain was too mushy following my engrossment in the decorating task to read the text. So, I looked over the chapters, photos and their captions, the front and back matters. Not finding anything to correct, I basked in my happiness. My practical self squashed the urge to delve into the text. My mind will have to be sharper for that detail.
The next morning, I felt blood rushing to my head and my face burning at the thought of having to read the manuscript one more time. I wanted to just type “approve” and send it back to Judy. I could feel the adrenaline rush that said “Yes, send to printer, it is ready.” But that was not the case. We must make sure. Thankfully, Charles volunteered to read it.
My heart plummeted to my knees when he informed me of the first period that was missed and a dash that was misplaced. I realized this is a necessary step. It is imperative that I relax and muster all my patience. It is no time to rush things. Not after all the attention and care my team and I have lavished into my memoir. The question is when will we read the manuscript for the last time? It has gone through three professional edits followed by three additional readings by us.
I can’t wait to blog, “The manuscript is at the printer.”
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