― mullygrubber (gaz), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 01:39 (twenty-two years ago)
― scott seward (scott seward), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 04:36 (twenty-two years ago)
― scott seward (scott seward), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 04:37 (twenty-two years ago)
― scott seward (scott seward), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 04:40 (twenty-two years ago)
― Cathryn, Wednesday, 11 February 2004 10:49 (twenty-two years ago)
― Jessa (Jessa), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 14:10 (twenty-two years ago)
― MikeyG (MikeyG), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 14:26 (twenty-two years ago)
― August (August), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 16:05 (twenty-two years ago)
Or are you the kind of person who would tell your friends that they look like crap in their new outfit they just spent a heaveload of money on?
Yes, that's right, I said heaveload. I'm not afraid to try new things.
― accentmonkey (accentmonkey), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 16:16 (twenty-two years ago)
― mullygrubber (gaz), Wednesday, 11 February 2004 22:38 (twenty-two years ago)
― Casuistry (Chris P), Monday, 16 February 2004 07:45 (twenty-two years ago)
― I'm Passing Open Windows (Ms Laura), Thursday, 19 February 2004 06:48 (twenty-two years ago)
― mullygrubber (gaz), Friday, 20 February 2004 02:56 (twenty-two years ago)
― All Bunged Up. (Jake Proudlock), Friday, 20 February 2004 12:29 (twenty-two years ago)
― mullygrubber (gaz), Friday, 20 February 2004 23:03 (twenty-two years ago)
A friend of mine decided she wants to be a novelist.
(And we'll sidestep all the bullshit about get your own identity, bitch, etc.)
She writes a book and sends it to me, and mentions that she's interested in what I have to say. She's also sent it to all her other friends and demonstrates no more interest in my opinion than any of her other friends. I read it because I feel I genuniely want to help her out.
My background: I work as a professional editor and book critic and have read slush piles and critiqued manuscripts at lit agencies on both sides of the Atlantic, so perhaps my opinion might be valuable, moreso than say, a friend that used to work at Borders and loves all the same John Irving books she does.
I met her for a vacation, armed with the mss. I tried reading it on the train. I spent three hours going through the prologue, writing the same things over and over before I gave up: Pick a tense. Cut the passive voice. Too much exposition. "His eyes, the color of lies" -- are you serious?!?
So I meet her and say in what I think is diplomatic, "Maybe I ought to read the revised version, since you probably made a lot of changes."
Her response: "Oh, the first draft is pretty much it. But all my writer friends love it [note emphasis on writer friends] so it's perfect the way it is."
The next morning, I dumped it into the trash outside the hotel. She didn't really want to hear what I had to say, despite my experience. She doesn't trust me as a reader so why waste my time on it?
― Anonymous on Purpose, Sunday, 22 February 2004 22:18 (twenty-two years ago)