Wednesday, March 16, 2005


Editor called this morning to talk about a manuscript I just sent in. It's our first time working together, so I started pacing the office floor, sweating and waiting for the worst. Imagining the worst as the editor was talking to me went something like this:

Editor really liked the book
Sure you did. Stop being nice to me and yell.
and has two minor questions
Like Why are you a published author and Can you get a day job?
but is sending the manuscript
to another editor so she can get a big laugh
to copy-edit.
and everyone will . . . what?

From this point it becomes a conversation:

"Really, the book is terrific."
"What about this?"
"That's fine."
"And this? Did I drop the ball with this?"
"You didn't drop the ball with that."
"But -- what about the blah? And the hooey?"
"Both were excellent. I couldn't put it down."

I continued to grill the editor for another fifteen minutes, but she wouldn't budge. My heart rate dropped to semi-normal as we wound up the conversation and I made some suggestions for the back pages. Then I hung up the phone and collapsed in a nearby chair.

The man, who was working at home this morning, came over. "What was that all about?"

"Revisions." I covered my face with my hands. "She didn't want any."

"S'okay." He patted my shoulder. "Just pitch her something else, honey."

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