During the day, I’m steep into a buzz of projects in addition to the weekly workload, but at night I am now turning into PrintWoman, carefully printing out my thesis one essay at a time (two copies each). I did not teach myself how to create a master document and then associate subdocuments with it, so the pagination needed to be verrrrrry carefully orchestrated–particularly after I tightened up the first essay by a full page, which required rejiggering every essay after it, of course.
But even more exciting was the paper purchase. “Ar Kye Ball paper?” asked the Staples clerk over the phone. “Archival,” I sounded out as carefully as I could. It was my third store, and this time I was calling first. All I knew was that I needed “archival” paper and a “sturdy” box. (I ran into one blog buddy, Walt Underwood, as I was staggering out of the first store. I probably should have asked him if he had a clue…)
I phoned Stanford Bookstore, and a clerk responded, “Archival–you mean acid-free thesis paper, right?” “I’m sure I do,” I mumbled gratefully. “We have it in 25 percent and 100 percent cotton, and we’re open until 8 p.m.,” the clerk continued.
Well, all righty! We motored over to the Stanford Bookstore (how could Sandy miss out on such an adventure) and there it was, in large and small quantities, 25 percent and 100 percent cotton, boxes and boxes and boxes of thesis paper… expensive, of course (“Cheap at half the price,” the clerk joked as he went back to his desk), but I expected that–and it was only a buck or two more expensive than if I ordered it online.
All I needed to get to my goal was the right input device, capable of interpreting my request and connecting me with the right resource.
I’ll ask the school if they have any spare boxes.
“I did not teach myself how to create a master document and then associate subdocuments with it, so the pagination needed to be verrrrrry carefully orchestrated”…
Believe me, it’s not worth it. I’ve been a technical writer for three years, and with master documents in Word you end up fussing with the headers and footers in the subdocuments at least as much as you would in individual documents. Then, when you think you’ve got it all just right, it all goes haywire and you have to do it over again. 😉
Thanks… it is a relief to hear that, as I felt that if I really knew what I was doing I’d do the Master Document thingy. I used a piece of paper to note the first and last page for each essay, and it seemed to work fine…
Light Impressions, http://www.lightimpressionsdirect.com/ , has a wide variety of archival storage stuff for photographers, but it works just as well for documents, fabrics, etc. I also like their frame kits.
Try their Manuscript Box. Locally, Keeble & Shuchat Photography stocks some Light Impressions stuff, but probably not the boxes.
I’m relieved to report that the box only needs to be “sturdy,” I ascertained, and can actually be two boxes… in fact, the boxes for the paper will do just fine, I was advised. Whew!
Printing my thesis was not the problem. . . I went to the nice people at Zephyr and said something to the effect of, “I’ll have what he’s having,” indicating the disheveled graduate student ahead of me.
The problem was the italics. My initial draft was returned by the graduate college, cited for “excessive italics.” I had to have my thesis advisor write them a letter explaining that italics were permissible in creative work. It was a little nuts.
Anyway, good luck with the printing and copying and putting in a box. It’s very satisfying to see it all there, looking important and official.
Ah, the good old Stanford bookstore! I remember that they convinced my husband that his dissertation would be much more attractive printed on the official Stanford watermark paper (100% cotton) rather than plain archival paper. As we were both poor graduate students at the time, it about broke the bank, but it does look pretty now.
Mindful of Laura’s experience–remember the line in Amadeus, “Too many notes”?–I went for 25 percent. That way it’s on reasonably nice thesis paper, but if I have to redo it I still saved ten bucks. I don’t think anyone will be cursing me for that decision in a century… these essays fall into two categories: destined to slumber forever, or to be shopped around in slightly different form.
I secretly hope enough of the essays will have found published homes that someday you will do a volume of the collected pieces. Or make them a subsection of a larger collection 🙂 You made them to be a cohesive unit, and that’s how I’d want to read them if only I could.
Miram B.
Santa Fe