Monday, September 10, 2012

Today's Awful Moment and the Amazing Rescue

First of all, you need to know that edits are the literary equivalent of your least favorite chore.  Maybe cleaning the oven or wiping cat barf off the floor.

Also, I can use a computer but it still scares me.  I have my faithful little cow paths that I tread, but if anything rustles in the bushes beside me I freak out.

And Matt the faithful rescuer was leaving his place in Corvallis this morning for a new job in Washington, D.C.

So, I am working on a new book--yet another collection of my Register-Guard columns.  I'm self-publishing this one with the help of a graphic designer who works for the RG.  I told him I'd have the proof-read manuscript to him by noon today.

So I have been keeping my nose to the laptop, making sure every clause is properly comma'ed, every capital letter and hyphen and semi-colon is in its place, every story says what I want it to say, every Scripture reference is duly noted on the small-print page, every fact is factual, and everyone who might not like to be written about gets their name changed or even deleted.

It's like going through a 50-acre cornfield and pulling all the thistles and timothy and cockleburrs, down to the tiniest little sprouts.

I hired an editor to make sure everything was in Chicago Manual of Style, but I wasn't sure how to work with her finished product which was full of little markings and colored speech balloons in the sidebar.

So I figured out how to have the original manuscript I'd sent her on the left of the screen, and her edits on the right.  Then I went through the left half and made all the changes she'd suggested, plus a lot more.

I kept saving as I went, anxiously, having lost work in the past.

This morning I was at it by 6:30 and at 10:00 I added the last period to the dedication and I was done.

Whew.

I went to get a cup of coffee and then sat down to send the finished product to the page-designer guy.

It was gone.

I am serious, it was GONE.

I clicked on Word, and there were three other things I had worked on today but not the manuscript.

I went all over that laptop screen, clicking on everything.  I dug through the Recycle folder and the Recently Changed, through Works and Word and Adobe, through pictures and files of gibberish.

It was nowhere to be found.

I panicked.  I prayed.  I promised to give God the glory if he rescued me.

I broke down in desperate tears.

It was just GONE.

What what WHAT was I going to do?

I would have to do all those horrible fiddly little edits all over again.

It was too much, so I cried some more.

Finally, I called Matt, who has rescued me countless times, knowing he might be halfway to Idaho and even if he wasn't, this was probably beyond him.

He had just left Corvallis.

He delayed his going and came to help me.

I explained.

He looked cautious but with a little gleam of hope.

While I watched, tied in knots inside, Matt Googled something mysterious and then went digging in the basement of the computer, deeper than he had ever gone before, past rats' nests and wine cellars and forgotten subway lines, on and on, to a file marked TEMP.  There in a long list of meaningless letters I saw it--oh, glory, could it, could it be?

He opened it up.

There it was.

My new introduction, all my careful edits, even the dot behind the dedication that I had added last.

Perhaps we should draw the curtain of charity over my reaction except to say it was noisy and heartfelt.

I was saved.

Matt sauntered out to his packed-full car, grinning, and took off.

I sent the precious manuscript on its way, glorifying and praising God for all that I had heard and seen.

I want my children to be like Jesus in kindness and love and humility, but Matt is also like Jesus in one other area.

He can work miracles.

Quote of the Day:
"Ok, I've got Dad on a smartphone and Mom on 5-hour energy drinks.  My work here is done."
--Matt

[Ok, this is what I did wrong.  To start working, I opened my email to the editor lady and opened the attachment I had sent her.  I should have saved it in my documents before I ever started working on it.  Since I didn't, when I exited out of it, all my carefully saved changes disappeared and it went back to how it was when I sent the original email.

Believe me, I won't do that again.

What saved me was that the computer had backed it up in that hidden TEMP file, who knows why or how.]

12 comments:

  1. i love your style of writing. :) i probably wasn't supposed to be humored by this post- but i still was.
    favorite line:
    "I want my children to be like Jesus in kindness and love and humility, but Matt is also like Jesus in one other area.

    He can work miracles."

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  2. Panic and redemption. Computers and writing. A wise and tech-savvy son--available against great odds, just when you need him most. A God Who hears. I remember it all. I'm trying to take to heart the lesson: Don't work on an emailed file until you have safely saved it in a word-processing program. Did I get that right?

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  3. Thanks, Jenny.:-)

    Miriam, that's exactly right. You explained it better than I did.

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  4. Dorcas, I loved-loved-loved reading this post! Thank you for sharing this window into your soul. I'd wager that most of us past 50 or so have "been there" in one way or another. Proverbially, I sat on the edge of my chair and bit my fingernails as I felt the tension and emotion of the crisis you faced.

    You have such a wonderful gift of expression that can only be described as spell-binding. For example, my favorite paragraph in your account was this:

    "While I watched, tied in knots inside, Matt Googled something mysterious and then went digging in the basement of the computer, deeper than he had ever gone before, past rats' nests and wine cellars and forgotten subway lines, on and on, to a file marked TEMP. There in a long list of meaningless letters I saw it--oh, glory, could it, could it be?"

    How powerful that is! As I traveled with you and Matt through the rabbit hole of your computer's "basement" I found myself mentally looking over my shoulder for the grinning Cheshire Cat. Are you sure that you were not somehow the co-author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland? I love your creativity in making stories come alive with humor and tension that rivals the classics and, as I said, makes some people sit on the edges of their chairs and bite their fingernails.

    But your line that absolutely made me laugh out loud was this one:

    "I sent the precious manuscript on its way, glorifying and praising God for all that I had heard and seen."

    On the surface that line may not seem "funny", but I just knew-knew-knew instantly what you were saying! You were saying that you had just witnessed an amazing miracle bringing to mind the one experienced by the shepherds right out of Luke 2 when the skies lit up and an angel told the shepherds of Jesus' miraculous birth in Bethlehem. Your reaction was the same as that of the shepherds when they heard the good news--namely, "glorifying and praising God". That's how strongly you felt the relief of what Matt had retrieved for you.

    Technically, the comparison was possibly an overstatement, (which is part of the subtle humor here), but you made your point so skillfully and effectively that upon reading that phrase I just couldn't help but laugh out loud as I "felt" the relief of your rescue with you. Besides that, there is no question in my mind but what you literally did go on your way "glorifying and praising God..."! You probably still are, every time you think of it, right?

    What excellent writing that is--to enable your readers to "live" the experience right along with you. And as far as I'm concerned I was right, too, in my prediction that you were alluding to the miraculous because in the following lines you concluded by telling us that "Matt... can work miracles."

    I will be coming back to re-read this post a few more times because, Dorcas, it is just so-o-oo good! You need to be encouraged after the crisis of potential loss that you faced, all against the backdrop of a looming deadline. Aaargh! Finally, my heartfelt congratulations on the upcoming publication of yet another book. I look forward to reading it.

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  5. Thanking God with you for sons who save the day!!

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  6. "Also, I can use a computer but it still scares me. I have my faithful little cow paths that I tread, but if anything rustles in the bushes beside me I freak out."

    Yes!

    And sometimes I work around annoying glitches on my computer for weeks, that my nephews could probably fix in two minutes.

    --Linda Rose

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  8. Going by the title of your post, I was afraid a bad accident had almost claimed your life, but some knight in shining armor bravely rescued you. After I read the story, I realized that it was almost that serious. I'm so glad your son was there for you. Isn't it "funny" how the tables have turned. Wasn't it just yesterday that we were rescuing our toddler/preschooler from a possible disaster and now they are the ones doing the heroic saves? I love your writings. Keep up the good work. Annette Eberly

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  9. I'm going to send the link to this post to my computer techy son.
    He has rescued my computer countless times and then got married. I bribe them to come home once a week by making supper and then casually say...oh, the computer...

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  10. I cried tears of relief for you, Dorcas!
    Maybe I'm all wet, (I really don't think so) but I believe God is as willing to answered our panic-stricken pleas as we are to give Him glory once He's answered!
    Oh, and I think He's fine with you mentioning Matt's role in it. :)
    -PC in VA

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  12. I have loved your books and blog for years... this post really hit home. I have the same at my house,though I am not a writer, but I have kids who are good and come help,dear Mom out of her mess she's gotten herself into... ( sad to say again around here)

    You have raised a wonderful son...this wasn't just a usual help Mom at the computer, this was a I love my Mother more than anything I am about to do for myself, she is more important to me...a lesson for all of us.

    Thank you for sharing your life...you and your family always touch me in some way everytime I read something.


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