Wow. Guess what came in the mail today? No, not the exploding gum I ordered from the back of that old Pope John Paul II comic book…my galleys! Or as the cover calls them, “Advance Uncorrected Proofs.”
I did the correcting over the holidays, and today there were still about ten last-minute questions in my inbox from my copyeditor extraordinaire. Here are two of my favorites:
Me, being a smartass in the book: “...a level of irrationality even ‘Crack is whack’ Whitney Houston would frown at.”
Proofreader: Should that be “...even Whitney ‘Crack Is Whack’ Houston...”?
Me, still being a smartass in another place in the book: “Whatever happened to Scott Baio?”
Proofreader: Baio has recently been featured on a reality show so you may want to choose another has-been.
So I’m going with Danny Pintauro. Please don’t tell me he was just nominated for a Tony or some such shit.
Also, I have been given the opportunity to write my own author bio for the inside back flap of the book. So far, I’m thinking “Jess Riley…not an asshole most of the time” has a nice ring to it.
Do you see how I’m swearing more in this post? Guess why! No, really. Guess. If you said it’s because I had another workplace interaction with Ms. Crawled from a Pore on Satan’s Butt, you’re right! Give yourself fifty points and kiss a mirror.
Today, she cautioned me against using some of her trade secrets in my work on other possibly competing projects. Which, um, I have my own trade secrets and work processes that over the years, have proven quite successful. Thus, I’m not going to poach your little trade secrets, Miss Pore Thingie. So after I was warned as such, she said to me, “Now repeat back what I just told you.”
Right. Like this is kindergarten and I’m the booger eater in the back row. Later, I heard rustling noises as she spoke, and this was because she was putting on her Crazy Hat to completely contradict something she’d said earlier.
Okay, now I feel bad. “Jess Riley…sometimes an asshole when deeply affected by a work-related incident.”
“The author feels bad about this—as bad as she feels for inadvertently poaching that batch of sea monkeys on a hot July windowsill way back when.”