I am finalizing my lineup, figuring whether to keep a few more essays than what had been originally planned, working with some authors whose pieces can use a bit more fleshing out before going to the publisher for a final copy edit in August. In the May/June issue of Poets and Writers magazine, an article resonated for me:
Labor of Love: The Anthology from Conception to Publication by Eleanor Henderson and Anna Solomon
In this, the authors echo what many others cautioned them, “It’s just way more work than you can imagine. Even if you imagine a lot of work, it’s more.” I am comparing it to the waitressing term “in the weeds,” and I am fashioning a blog piece for my publisher’s website on the process. But I’m afraid if I’m truthful, if I call the blog piece “In the Weeds” will people think I’m drowning? I’m not. There’s air between the weeds. Shafts of light. If I say I’m jealous that Henderson and Solomon had each other, will people think I’m not up to the task alone? There’s been some help along the way. Do I just have to stop bitching, pacing, checking Facebook? Yes. And that’s where the project is at today.