I have a cedar chest full of drafts of this book. Last week, Cherry compared them to O’Keeffe’s variations of Jack in the Pulpit. I wish. Tonight, I loaded the inkjet with fuel and printed another, sans pages one through twenty-five. I ran out of paper. This baby is Courier, 12 pt., double-spaced.
There’s something about holding a manuscript in your hand. It’s different from seeing font on a screen. Things you never noticed scream out at you. I’m hoping anyway. I’m also hoping not to drop the behemoth on my toe.
I put away the workbook for a while. I’m going rogue. Probably rogue in longhand. I bought Waterman cartridges. Tomorrow, I’ll splurge on another ream of twenty pound multipurpose white.