There's Another Woman (or Two)
Despite my constant complaining about Cheetah Woods and that idiot that married Sandra, I must take the time to confess that there's another woman in my life - maybe two - sorry Kathy - I didn't want to have to tell you like this.
I went to bed late last night, thinking of them and the suggestions that they made about what I should do, and I woke up in tears this morning knowing that I'd had a breakthrough, and that everything would be perfect in how I wanted to make it happen.
Now for all of you writers and want-to-be-writers out there you've probably already figured out that I am not cheating on my wife - this is about my book editor and my publisher.
On Friday evening, wondering what I was going to do for the weekend, back hurting still, not feeling like having a drink, I found my manuscript waiting for me inside the door.
As is custom, I ran upstairs, and read through it - counting the number of marks on each page (and there are hardly ever any clean pages) and I read what the editor had to say. We'd worked together so many times before, perhaps she'd be nice!
Uh, not really.
There were some serious concerns, but nothing I couldn't handle, so she said. Blah, blah, blah - how I hated her and her quick moving pencil.
But I did wake up with tears in my eyes this morning...and not because of the back (which absolutely sucks by the way)...but because my wonderful editor had been right again, and like my publisher, had pointed me in the right direction.
I grabbed a loose sheet of paper and jotted down my notes...notes that will be turned into the final chapter in Oh, Brother- The Life and Times of Jeff Fazzolari.
While my wonderful wife has nothing to ever worry about, I must say, sorry Kathy.
These women just get me.
I went to bed late last night, thinking of them and the suggestions that they made about what I should do, and I woke up in tears this morning knowing that I'd had a breakthrough, and that everything would be perfect in how I wanted to make it happen.
Now for all of you writers and want-to-be-writers out there you've probably already figured out that I am not cheating on my wife - this is about my book editor and my publisher.
On Friday evening, wondering what I was going to do for the weekend, back hurting still, not feeling like having a drink, I found my manuscript waiting for me inside the door.
As is custom, I ran upstairs, and read through it - counting the number of marks on each page (and there are hardly ever any clean pages) and I read what the editor had to say. We'd worked together so many times before, perhaps she'd be nice!
Uh, not really.
There were some serious concerns, but nothing I couldn't handle, so she said. Blah, blah, blah - how I hated her and her quick moving pencil.
But I did wake up with tears in my eyes this morning...and not because of the back (which absolutely sucks by the way)...but because my wonderful editor had been right again, and like my publisher, had pointed me in the right direction.
I grabbed a loose sheet of paper and jotted down my notes...notes that will be turned into the final chapter in Oh, Brother- The Life and Times of Jeff Fazzolari.
While my wonderful wife has nothing to ever worry about, I must say, sorry Kathy.
These women just get me.
Comments