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Welcome to my words.

This entire website is topsy turvy as of late. The only time it’s not is when it’s turvy topsy. And even then, I can’t tell my bloggy from my elbow. Until we get things calm here, please enjoy this Mozart concerto. What? We can’t get the orchestra to play? That’s it. I quit. Hey Frankie, call your cousin and tell him I’m available for that bricklaying job. What? Your brother got it? Oh come on! He said he’d hold it for me til Tuesday! No, I’m not calling your cousin a liar. I’m just saying he’s a dirty, rotten bag of jerk flesh who wouldn’t know a hard worker if one fell on his head. Yeah, tell him I said so. I don’t care. My website’s all broke. That’s fine. This’ll give me more time to work on it. No, don’t do me no favors, Frankie. I’ll be all right. You worry about yourself. Sheesh.

In The Arms Of The Copy Editor

In The Arms Of The Copy Editor

Far away from here…

Am I allowed to quote lyrics on my blog? Are the sappy music police going to bang down my door as soon as this is posted? Probably.

But I didn’t actually technically write Ms. McLachlan’s lyrics here, did I, Officer? In fact, the subject line has nothing to do with her song! It’s just a coincidence! Oh, and the “Far away from here” bit? Yes, I could see why you might think I lifted that from her. But I was thinking of something else entirely. Um. That movie with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. Remember that one? No, not Eyes Wide Shut, get your mind out of the gutter. It was set in Ireland - Far and Away. You remember that one, Officer? Oh, I’ve bored you long enough that you have to leave? Super. Well you have a nice day now.

“If you men only knew . . .”

I should really stop with the casual references. And yet, I heart them so. R.I.P. Kubes.

Grammar? Yaz?

Not a scarlet A

Not a scarlet A

Having written 7,320 different versions of my book, I am pretty confident that I could publish it today and readers would at least be able to understand the story and the words that make it up. I believe I am a pretty decent speler. And yes, that one was on purpose. Oh oh oh, I’m flippin’ hilarious. But when it comes to all the other nitty-gritty, down-and-dirty grammar-type stuff, I’d give myself a solid B at best. Nobody wants to read a book by an author who gives himself a B in grammar. Do you? Of course not. But I’ll tell you what. After it is copyedited and subsequently proofread, I can give you a scouts-honor guarantee I’ll give the thing a rip-roaring A! Teachers still don’t give a grade of A+, right? Well even if they did, I wouldn’t want to oversell.

My keen-eyed copy editor will be wrapping up his job this week. I expect to have my marked-up manuscript back in my saved hands by next Monday. Then I get to read it over again and make new and exciting changes! Improvements I’ve never dreamed of in the past 7,320 iterations! Can you tell I’m jazzed? Cuz I’m jazzed.

I haven’t laid eyes in my book in three weeks. I’ve been a very good boy. Though the temptation to dive in has been ever-present but I’ve kept my distance and I’m sure the story will be better for that self-restraint. Sometimes, you just gotta let go and trust in another professional to spruce and further beautify your work.

This Literally Just In

As I was writing this very bloggy, my copy editor sent me back my manuscript! I haven’t opened the doc yet but what good fortune is this!? I now have an extra week to work on his proposed edits. Callooh! Callay! And hold the phone . . . Twitter is now telling me that this very day is National Grammar Day. Wha wha whaaaa?! I love it when the universe comes together to give me good blessings, whether they are contrived or not, I believe in them.

Why am I still hanging out in here? I should be speeding as fast as my fingers can fly to my nearest email emporium. And yet, I linger. I stall. It could be that I am somewhat fearful of what notes may lurk within. I asked him to be as candid and upfront about his opinions as he felt comfortable. Though really, at this point in the game, the book has been workshopped into a pretty prim and proper shape, as I’ve probably mentioned before. I don’t say that to brag or even humble brag. But by the time you hire a copy editor, your manuscript should be in tip-top shape. What could he possibly have to disagree with?

Er, using prepositions at the end of sentences, for one. But unless I’m mistaken (and I probably am) that age-old grammar trope has seen better days. I do believe it is as dead as disco.

But disco never dies, sir! Disco never dies!

Perhaps you’re right. What do I know? I’m no copy editor. Not even close. All right. Here I go. To achieve great things and finalize the final (before the final final).

Stay alive.

Where my disco-lovin’, preposition-huntin’ buds at?

Where my disco-lovin’, preposition-huntin’ buds at?

Walking the Self-Promotional Plank

Walking the Self-Promotional Plank

Breaking All The Rules

Breaking All The Rules