–Wayne Tefs, recalling the night in 1976 when he created a press with the mandate to publish chapbooks by Manitoba poets. No, you are in love with words, with story, with song, and you are doing nothing more than dreaming the book – a simple thing, a good thing, a thing that carries and sustains what you are and what the place you live in may become.” The work alone would have thrown you off. You certainly are not contemplating twenty years of labour, of screening twenty thousand manuscripts, of Editorial Board meetings, conferences with writers, proofreading, copy-editing, launches, grant-applications, Literary Press Group, the ACP, conference calls – if you had, you probably would not have hazarded the dream. You haven’t heard yet of perfect binding, of dingbats, of saddle stitching, Corel, Ventura, fulfillment, or financial statements. “You’re dreaming the book, the tangible, tactile object.
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