The editor spent about three weeks doing the first run-through of my book, Bosses and Blackjacks. She has an incredible ability to pick up on a missed comma or end quote or verb tense consistency, among a myriad of other things.
So, of course, I thought to myself: If it took her three weeks to plod through my manuscript—writing she had never seen before—certainly, I will only need two to review her edits.
Ha! As Eliza Doolittle sang in My Fair Lady:
“What a fool I was, what an addlepated fool!”
Week two is ending as I type this. Am I finished? No way. I have already sent the requisite email message begging her indulgence for an additional week.
Wish me luck. Please.
Now, if you’ll excuse me—I’ve got some revising to do.
Do you set time limits for yourself when you begin a task—be it writing, a household chore, or a life-altering activity? And, what do you do when you smack face-first into that deadline wall?
Please share your experiences, or advice, or both, in the Comment section below.
I believe the actual quote is: “If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Would Ride.”
But, when I was a child, my mother used to tell me: “If wishes were horses, you’d have a stable full!”
She was right. I was always wishing for something or other. The interesting thing is, nothing has changed. I’m still adding horses to my stable.
My current wish is to get my act together and finish editing my book, Bosses and Blackjacks. I don’t seem to be able to do any serious work on it until after three o’clock in the afternoon. That takes me crashing headlong into dinner time. I know I should be cooking, but I’d much rather keep on working and have someone else spoon-feed me until I want to quit for the day.
Am I being unreasonable? Wishful thinking?
Does anyone else out there have this sort of “particular-time-of-day-when-you-want-to-just-keep-at-it-until-you-exhaust-yourself” issue?
Let me know in the comment section below.
In the meantime, I’ve got to go put some fresh water in the troughs.
Why have we stopped admiring the brightest among us, in favor of those who are only capable of “bumper-sticker” jargon? I know there are always two or three or twenty sides to every story–but they can’t all be accurate. When, as a nation, have we stopped caring about facts?
This is a dangerous path we are on. I would use the tired term “slippery slope,” if I weren’t so sick of hearing it. We’ve fallen into the trap of trendy terminology and, if we are to advance, we have got to stop.
Every political scandal does not have something to do with a “gate.” Every problem we need to solve does not have to have a “war” waged against it.
The media has gotten caught up in the Manhattan advertising practice of the clever logo or jingle. Dumbing down the population makes the population easier to control.
I’m curious about the words or phrases that you, dear reader, are completely and utterly sick of hearing. Maybe, together, we can create a dictionary of words and phrases from hell. I look forward to your suggestions.
Bosses and Blackjacksis currently with the editor and I hope to make it available to readers before the end of the year. In the meantime, I thought I would whet your appetite by giving you a small bite to chew on…slowly, very slowly:
Politics in Philadelphia is a rough game…has been since the time of Ben Franklin. But, when murder takes place in the Fifth Ward on primary election day in 1917, it sparks outrage – not just in Philadelphia, but throughout the nation.
WWI now shares headlines with the conspiracy trial in the “City of Brotherly Love.” Police Lieutenant David Bennett, in charge of the “Bloody Fifth,” is arrested along with the Mayor and other members of the political machine run by the powerful Vare brothers. Interfering with a free and fair election, it would seem, is as contemptible as actually pulling the trigger.