The Press Visit. The book about the book.

The Press Visit imagines the named couple — the two named people you are giving the book to — arriving at our small press on a particular Sunday. They sit at the kitchen table. They tell us their story. They argue gently about which year was the year. They drink the tea. They settle on the version. Juno writes it down. The illustration begins. The book they commissioned is the book you are reading.

The format is recursive, and on purpose. The book contains its own origin. The conceit doubles the gift: the recipients read about themselves arriving at our press to commission a book about themselves, and the book they read is that book. It is a small literary trick that works because the specifics are real. The friend on page seven is the actual friend. The Sunday in the conceit is a Sunday they actually remember.

You write us a short brief on behalf of the couple. Both their names. The year they met, or the year they were married, or the year you are marking. The city you would set the press visit in if it were real. The thing they would actually argue about over tea. The friend they would have brought. Juno writes the story from those. The book is illustrated for this one book for that one reader.

The cover is matte-printed with both names and the year. The half-title page reads A book about [name] and [name], commissioned on a Sunday. The book is hardcover, perfect-bound-bound, in a plain box, signed at the colophon by Juno. It ships in roughly two weeks. The two named readers open it together. They argue gently about which of the small fictions in the book is closest to what actually happened. That is the gift.

The book is the only copy of itself. The file closes after it ships. The press is reset. There is no second printing for the in-laws, no library edition for the wedding party. The couple keeps the book on the shelf next to the photo albums. Years later they will read it again and they will say do you remember the Sunday we did not have. That is what it does.