With permission from the Republican-American, I plan to self-publish one or more collections of “Living Here” columns published between 1994 and 2018. Proceeds will benefit the newspaper’s charity, the Greater Waterbury Campership Fund.
So far, so good: I identified and retrieved electronic copies of nearly 1,000 columns — including more re-runs than I had anticipated. Probably the actual number is closer to 950. I have also clipped four or five boxes of these columns over the years, for preservation.
Now comes the fun part: Reading, editing, organization and publication.
The reading part truly is fun, partly because I’m now enjoying these essays as a reader rather than as an author, and partly because I’m rediscovering stories and memories long since overlooked or forgotten.
Not that I’m on a par with either of these writers, but Peggy Noonan wrote an essay last week in The Wall Street Journal about the passing of author Tom Wolfe. She recounted an event at which she had quoted to him something he had written years before. “Oh, that’s good,” he had responded. “Did I write that?” Noonan assured him that he had. Later in her essay she told a similar story about Tolstoy’s daughter reading him an account of an epic battle, from “War and Peace.”
Apparently I’m in good company in having these moments.
The hard part is organization. I started by sorting the columns into five broad collections: Curmudgeon, Community, Home Sweet Home, Home for the Holidays, and The Kids Are All Right. I was hoping to keyword them somehow to better organize them, but that function doesn’t exist in Word. (WordPress would actually be a better tool for that, but I’m not going to put them online). Barbara suggested putting them into a database somehow, so today I started that. I’ll re-read and enter the metadata for the essays I’ve done so far, then continue reading and entering from this point forward.
On a project this size, that will require a lot of time and effort, but the results should be worth it. Fortunately I have and am familiar with Access. That’s a secret weapon Tolstoy, Wolfe, and probably Noonan didn’t have.