A Crash Course in Deadlines

It was just one week.  One week.  A mere seven days weaned from the civilization of computers, television, emails, voice-mails, and decent cellular reception.  I loved every minute of it and, believe me, I could make a life as a Luddite writer working with pen and paper in a dimly lit cave. 

When the vacation was over I did, of course, return to a computer filled-to-the-brim with emails . . . most of which were "junk" but which also included a surprising number from publishers (4), from editors (2) and even a PDF contractual agreement for six magazine articles that I have since signed, mailed, and will celebrate in the form of cold, hard cash . . . which is just as good as money usually. 

One email, from my Perigee (Penguin) publisher informed me that this huge publishing conglomerate has been purchased/merged with Random House, the latter being the largest publisher in the world, and now made larger yet.  So, I'll soon be a part of the Random House family of writers, for what it's worth.

And another email informed me that I now have two weeks to re-write, proof, and edit a galley-proof of a book manuscript that needs to be sent, pronto!, to a major reviewer before a July 22 deadline.

I'm not complaining . . . I'll stay up all night if I have to (and probably will).  This type of duress actually hardens my arteries, casts my back in concrete, and sharpens my mind.  Or, at least, that's what I tell myself when these things happen.  

So . . . welcome home.  I'm getting a crash course in deadlines.  There is work to be done.  Coffee to be brewed.  Cashews to eat.  And sunrises to greet on the road to the final galley.

Tally-ho!