This weekend I am engaging in what I devoutly wish to be the final round of edits on Gingerbread Wolves. If all goes well I should be clicking on that big shiny red publish button by tomorrow afternoon.
I am working from the outstanding notes given to me by The Proulx, a hyperintelligent extra-dimensional life form with the power to appear to be a Canadian to mortal eyes. I read her latest work, the (soon?) to be published Chasing Nonconformity and wrote back that I thought it was pure distilled awesome sauce and she shouldn’t change a word, except maybe for the first chapter.
She read Gingerbread Wolves and sent me back voluminous notes and the whole thing edited, with a warning that under Galactic Law my use of commas is punishable by five years on the Penal Moon of Verminthrax VII.
Way to make me feel like a beta reader slacker, kid.
Tonight, however, I am taking off to go to the Muni to get my musical theater fix. Tonight it’s My Fair Lady, which as a devout Chestertonian I can only enjoy if I point out that George Barnard Shaw was wrong about absolutely everything, even if he could pen a ripping yarn from time to time.
Time to get FAAABulous!
“And where’s that soggy plain?”
(all together now)
“In SPAIN!”
Reblogged this on Michelle Proulx — The Website and commented:
Misha Burnett claims I’m a hyper-intelligent extra-dimensional life form. WHO TOLD HIM???
Wooo! Can’t wait to see it all shiny and new on Amazon. And the punishment for incorrect comma usage is actually 17 years on the Penal Moon of Verminthrax VII–unless you demonstrate the ability to correctly bake a chocolate souffle, in which case you are immediately pardoned.
Great news!