softbound

But maybe someone picked it up before the police got there, during the cold dawn of that first next day. Sometime at sunup, long after the gurgling had stopped behind the trees, but before the body was found. Someone might have been jogging, tripped over this softbound scrap of history, and taken it home, thinking they might just read it. Or it was kicked away—kicked along the path by some kids shortcutting their way to school. Or carried away by a stray mutt and chewed to a slobbery pulp. Somehow shoved beyond the parameters of what would be the crime scene. In any and all versions, it’s out of my hands. After everything, could this be all that it was meant to be? That I would have something to carry with me that day? Did all that history lead me to nothing more than an odd good-luck charm? And now that it’s gone, what will I carry with me, from this thing to the next?

Dolores Beekmim
The Broken Teaglass
Robinson Press
14 October 1985

This one was my favorite of all of them, I decided.

“Billy!” Mona yelled again.

It asked the right question. What will I carry with me?

“Billy.” Mona had lowered her voice, as if she knew I was right behind the door. “You’re being absurd. Open this goddamn door.”

“Just a second,” I mumbled, getting up as she punctuated her command with a kick.

I hid the gin bottle, but there wasn’t time to hide anything else.

All I could do now was open the goddamn door.

Subject: FYS (For Your Sanity)

12 August 2002

Billy:

Attached is a letter I wrote my first month here. You can steal it or write your own version. Save it onto your computer. Trust me. You don’t want to keep writing this letter over and over again.

Mona

Dear______________________:

I am writing in response to your query about how a word gets into one of our dictionaries. I am happy to answer your questions.

The process begins with what we call “research reading.” On a typical day in our office, each editor spends about an hour reading magazines, newspapers, or books in search of new words, new uses of old words, or any other notable uses. When an editor finds a notable word or phrase, he or she will underline it and then circle a few sentences of its surrounding context. The circled material is eventually typed up onto small individual slips, which we call citations. Each citation features a single word in its context—enough information to give editors a sense of the intended meaning of the word. We currently have over ten million citations filed in our office.

When it is time to create a new edition of one of our dictionaries, the editors review each citation and determine what needs to be updated. When a new word or use has accumulated a significant number of citations from a variety of publications, our editors study those citations to determine the word’s meaning. If the word appears to have established a consistent meaning, editors draft a definition. During the final edit of our books, our copy editors and editor in chief make the final decisions as to which drafted definitions will make the final cut.

I hope this answer is helpful to you. Feel free to write again if you have additional questions.

Sincerely,

Mona Minot

Samuelson Company Editorial Department