Adventures in Editing

The book slid out of the editor’s envelope heavy with prose, adjectives leaching from the pages into indigo pools. She found herself not trimming fat, no, but mopping at pools of description in frantic haste. In the end she simply made a dam of bone-dry Hemingway and soaked up the drops of punctuation with a chapbook of e e cummings.

Ah well, she hadn’t like those shoes anyway.


Leave a Reply