I’m not the world’s greatest crafter—actually, I’m pretty bad at it—so I’m documenting my failure. Or, erm, success. That’s what I mean.
I start having a complex about the project while wrapping the covers to protect them from the glue. But I’m tough, so I go on. I also line my desk with old book pages, just in case my mod podging gets messy. (What? You don’t happened to have loose signatures in your home?)
Of course, after I glue around the perimeter, it has to sit around and dry for twelve hours. So let’s pile some heavy stuff on this thing so the pages will adhere better.
Now I start cutting out the pages. The instructions say that I should be able to cut four to five pages at a time, but I manage two. But I’m okay with this. I put on some Mozart (something nice and soothing for when I hate this project later) and take my X-Acto knife to these beautiful pages.
What am I doing?
About halfway through, this task is difficult and frustrating. But upon examining my X-Acto blade, I discover it’s broken and about as sharp as a butter knife. So I waste ten minutes rummaging through my desk to find replacement blades. Amazing how much easier this is now (and there’s less risk of injuring myself).
Hours pass (in which I switched from Mozart to the Legend of Zelda soundtrack) and I’ve finally cut out an adequate space. And without injury!
As I was slicing out pages, I started glancing at the text. And the story came back to me, and I knew exactly where I wanted to stop—the John Galt speech. Now, the instructions state to not cut all the way through, because you need a nice base. And the speech is sort of near the end, so what better place to stop? I thought it was brilliant.