The road to publication is a long one, paved with many moments that (if you’re lucky) linger long in the memory. One of the most precious, which is often memorialized in writers’ social media posts, is the moment when the finished book is delivered to your front door. This is always close to the end of the process. Prior to this point there have been loose leafed manuscripts, early uncorrected reading copies, and galleys – but there’s nothing quite like holding the final product in your hand for the first time. It’s a moment to be treasured. When I lived in London I used to take my books out for lunch. I sat them on the other side of the table and just stared at them while I ate. It’s that kind of moment. You’re filled with both awe (I wrote that!) and apprehension (I wrote that!). The shit, as the saying goes, is getting real.

So, there’s that wonderful moment, one for the scrapbook. And then there’s what happened to me this weekend.

On Saturday, my neighbors appeared at my front door, looking as if someone had died. It transpired that the UPS man had mistakenly delivered a package addressed to me to their house. Their puppy Mabel – a lovely dog, if a bit squirrelly at times – took it upon herself to open the envelope and see what was inside. This is what was delivered to me that morning:

With it was the remains of a note from Jake, my editor, saying how he hoped I would be delighted with the enclosed copy. I assured my neighbors (who are also lovely, and not at all squirrelly) that this was no big deal, that it was only a book, there were plenty more where that came from, etc., etc. This morning I explained what had happened to Jake, and he has gone off to see if he can find another copy to send me. (These were bindery copies, hot off the press, and not part of the regular print run.)  There’ll be a fresh one arriving soon. People have commiserated with me, but there’s no need. I’ve waited this long, what’s another couple of days?

Anyway, not to be denied my moment, I posted the above picture to social media, and, oh the jokes. My favorite was from another Amy Einhorn alum, the lovely Suzanne Rindell, who wrote: “Geez Louise, who does that Mabel think she is — Michiko Kakutani???”