End of an old song

Women Latin Poets is finally leaving the Deep North, and shuffling off to Oxford to be born, after unspeakable labours — finally the index is indexed (the start of the fictitious index obsession), the text proofread, reproofread by the Professor, neurotically spot checked — it’s no use, there will be things wrong with it. There always are. But a halt has been called, finally, I have put the damn thing in a box and sealed it up with parcel tape.

Meanwhile, and in pleasing symmetry, the Idea of North has made its appearance, reminding us that books once edited and tidied can really be very nice (though frankly I repose more trust in the team at Reaktion than at OUP). It is a handsome thing, and has already had a good review in Scotland on Sunday.

7 Responses to “End of an old song”

  1. Andreas Minor Says:

    Excellent news, re both. Many congrats. Re: The Idea of North, the great Amazonian gods shall be invoked as soon as I have a permanent address to point them at.

  2. The Man From Maryport Says:

    Congratulations to both of you!

  3. Jon Says:

    That’s quite a double whammy.

    Amazon have The Idea of North as taking 4-6 weeks to order, so I think I’ll be going through Charing Cross Road for my copy.

  4. The German Guest Says:

    Wow, congratulations! I’ll be checking availability in teutonic area… by the way, janey’s novels have positively enchanted most of our friends and the nicer one’s of my colleagues (and this only because I didn’t give them to the others ;-) ). Everyone keeps asking for more! Maybe a translation would be the way to go in the long run … ?

  5. the tropical godparents Says:

    This is excellent news. You BOTH deserve a buscuit. Indded, I would send you one, or rahter two, but that foodstuffs conveyed postally to/from this part of the world invariably end up covered in ants, which are offputting though doubtless nutritious.

  6. Andreas Minor Says:

    Hang on… your book on women poets included discussion on Cup-a-soup?

  7. Janey Says:

    No. Everything BUT the kitchen sink. However, I was also & simultaneously dealing with copyeditors’ queries on a work of fiction — the letter C is her list of things under C that worried her, nothing to do with the Poetissae.

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