Last week, I lost the damn thing. It had been a while since I had made a copy, so the latest versions of many poems especially were thus lost. It would have been difficult, if not impossible, to reconstruct them all. I had also written many pages for the new novella, several of which seemed promising to me. Then, of course, you have hundreds of pages of essays and suchlike from ER old and new, all of which would be gone gone gone.
None of this, of course, was a tragedy of a world-historical order, but in my little world it was a disaster.
After a couple of days of searching here and there, a state of steady, low intensity panic took root. I went about my day, all the while repressing the thought that so much of my work seemed to have vanished forever.
Then, yesterday, I stumbled on the clip while going through a box of books. How the thing found its way into the box is a mystery past understanding, but there it was. Needless to say, I was giddy.
So, again, here it is, the inch and a half long engineering marvel that holds my world as a writer.
Oh, and yes, I have made several copies.
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