I rarely write two blogs in the same day. Heck, I can hardly do anything one time a day (just ask my wife). But this afternoon, pulling up my new batch of emails while preparing a funeral message and my Sunday sermon, I was overjoyed to receive word from one of my editors that she was "signing off" on my book. "You did a great job," she said. "Thanks for all the rewrites, I know it was a pain in the petootie! I'm sending this on to press!"
Oh, what sweet words: "on to press!" And an even sweeter word, "petootie!" What this means is that I don't have to work on that book anymore. I can move on to another piece of slop, and I'm eager to get at the slop bucket (all of my hundreds of books, articles, and essays in waiting that I keep piled in a thirty-year-old index card file next to my ancient, smoking computer).
Who knows . . . by this time next week I may have another two hundred pages of material to send out. And it's just itching for rejection.
Anybody out there want to buy a manuscript fresh from a smouldering computer? I'm serious, it could spark and blacken my fingernails at any second! I'm keeping the fire extinguisher close at hand.
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