Both my elbows were propped across my work table, one hand holding up my head, the other holding the pencil I marked exams with, when an unexpected knocking came at the front door. The familiar face of our UPS man greeted me, saying, "This one is a little heavy." I had no memory of ordering anything, and even as I read the return address on my way to the dining table I did not realize I was holding the first copies of the new book. Now, this is sheer fun.
When I called Alison, whose book this is by virtue of the dedication page, she asked, "Are you rubbing them all over your body?!" We shall celebrate tonight, but she won't be home until 9:00 or so.
There is nothing disappointing about this publication. Nebraska's team, from Matt Bokovoy, the acquisitions editor who saved its life at least once, to the copy editor, project supervisor, compositor, indexer--everybody did superb work. And it is bound very well, gathered in signatures and sewn and glued to last a good three hundred years.
And, of course, Patricio Serrano, who worked with me for a year on learning to read His handwriting. And John Knott, who first told me to have a look at Audubon, and who read the manuscript for Nebraska and then wrote the perfect foreword.
And Alison, without whom . . .
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