PHOTO: Todd (with some woman he picked up in Napa Valley, CA) circa. October 2009
In my latest blog series I put my writing life up for auction, but since no one placed a bid on any piece of my life, I can assume my life is worth nothing. Now I can get on, as they say, to more important matters.
A few months ago my wife received an invitation to submit a personal essay for publication in a book. She wrote back, asking the general editor if she could write the essay in conjunction with her husband (ME) and submit the work under the collaborative moniker. He agreed. And I did, too . . . but reluctantly.
Last week, while I was trying to auction away bits and pieces of my life, Becky and I finished our project. It was hell.
"Why don't you write another paragraph?" my wife would suggest. "I think you can do a better job of weaving our thoughts together if you can change the tone of the piece."
Yeah, well, kiss my grits.
Actually, Becky is a good writer. She's produced mega-papers over the past two years and my editorial hand has been very light. She's blogged with the best of 'em. And when the essay does finally go to press and we get our contributors copies of the book and receive our massive paycheck in the mail . . . we might go to dinner and celebrate.
I hear Wendy's has an affordable menu, and we can plot our next book project together while we split a burger. After all, marriage is 50-50.
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