I’m okay… I think. But it has been quite a week.
My editor sent me a note last Friday to tell me that the first pages of my book would be arriving on Monday or Tuesday. I was thrilled. After two years of research and writing, I was finally going to see text and photographs laid out in book format. The pages would not be bound, but they would give me a good sense of how TRACKING TRASH was going to look. Perhaps it goes without saying that I spent most of Monday and Tuesday looking out the window. Do you know how many delivery-truck-sounding vehicles pass my house in a given day? A lot. By six o’clock on Tuesday evening I was a mess. Where were they? Had they gotten lost? I resolved to call my editor first thing on Wednesday to have her track the package. Tuesday night was long and rainy, which I know because I did not sleep at all.
On Wednesday morning, before I’d even had a cup of tea, much less attempted to reach my editor, my husband came into the house with a worried look on his face.
“Um, hon? There is a package here for you,” he called from downstairs.
“Finally!” I shouted from upstairs. “At least they brought it nice and early.”
“Um, hon? I think it has been out here all night.”
I hurried downstairs to see my masterpiece. I remember thinking, ‘what was I so worried about? The darn thing was lying on the stoop, fifty yards from my bed, the whole night!’ And then I saw my husband, who was holding the package with two hands and trying desperately to prevent it from ripping. It was soaking wet. The package had indeed arrived the night before. But remember that rain? Although the delivery man had kindly put my package in a plastic bag (it would have been far kinder to ring my doorbell and tell me the package was here!), he never tied the bag closed. When my husband found it, my pages were floating in water.
Uggh.
The bad news is that the pages were ruined.
The good news is that my editor has already put a new copy in the mail.
The really, really good news is that the design (from what I can see in the sixty-four wrinkled and drying pages spread around the dining room) is GOREGOUS. I am so excited I can almost laugh about the fact that my TRACKING TRASH: FLOTSAM, JETSAM, AND THE SCIENCE OF OCEAN MOTION manuscript arrived in a trash bag full of water. Almost.
Best,
Loree