Goodie, Goodie, Gumdrop

Last night I received an affirmation from an editor who has accepted one of my essays for publication (thanks, Amy!).  But the more interesting piece of the correspondence was her final paragraph, where she wrote:

"I don't usually do this, but I wanted to thank you for this piece.  You are a very good writer.  You have made my job super easy as an editor."

Aww, shucks!  Really?!   

I'm not used to such high-handed praise.  Even though I worked hard on the essay, choosing my words carefully, polishing . . . there's always that gnawing sense of self-loathing that tells me I ain't good enough at anything.  As a child, my mother always told me I could do better, and for the past twenty-seven years my wife has taken up the mantle and reminded me daily that I do few things worthy of any accolade.  

I tried to tell my wife last night that there was another woman out there who appreciated something about me . . . but then she reminded me that this other woman hasn't met me yet, and that she only knows me through pen and paper and email correspondence.  She's correct in her assessment. Once folks get to know me, they ain't impressed. 

Today I plan to respond to this editor.  I hope to set the record straight.  I'll remind her that, actually, my essay is a sick excuse for a piece of writing and that, if she were so inclined, she could find another writer out there with twice the skill and three-times the charm.  I'm not deserving of her praise, and I'll invite her to retract her previous email and send something more pointed . . . perhaps an obscenity-laced tirade extolling the virtues of the superior writer and a flat-rate rejection of my essay on the basis that her publication would never sink so low as to print me in its pages.

That's more my style.  I'm used to it.  And I really enjoy a good thrashing.