This is a scratchboard I did at age 16, in high school. I was in a program that allowed art students, who submitted a portfolio and filled out forms,  to take art classes as a major. This piece won honorable mention at a local art show.

It’s imperfect. I can see it every time I look at it. The girl’s lip was not meant to be so white. The imperfection used to bother me continually. 

Now I still see the imperfection but also see the emotion in the work. I also see the 16-year-old me who went to pick up the piece, never having attended the show, and discovered the honorable mention ribbon.

How imperfect is all our work?

Today I submitted my imperfect draft book to five beta readers. I’d been over it multiple times, re-editing it, using Grammarly, adjusting according to comments from a good editor. 

There are parts that are perfect. The five chapters from contributors are stellar. The short pieces written by others are excellent. The words of the thirty-two interviewees are authentic and compelling.

It’s not done yet. The beta readers will see things I haven’t. Another editor will go over it again. I’ll return and edit again.

It will be less imperfect in the next few weeks. And it will join other work of mine with imperfections, but also with emotion.

My book “Like No Other School Year: 2020, COVID-19 and the Growth of Online Learning” will be available in Fall, 2020.