Undone

Gerry's Corner: Lots of weird things happened today. First of all, I was so excited about how my first chapter came out that I decided to send the manuscript around to some friends I know who are editors in the world of publishing. I did it anonymously (i.e. "A friend of mine wrote this - what do you think?") so that they would judge it without the context of evaluating something that President Gerald Ford had written. After all, I thought I wanted their honest feedback.

Turns out I didn't. The responses came fast and furious, typefied by this one, from a guy at St. Martin's Press:

"Read two pages. Nope. No one gives a shit."

Read two pages. Nope. No one gives a shit. Read two pages. Nope. I thought about making myself another lethal Advil-Tylenol cocktail, but resisted. Just because dreams are dashed doesn't mean that life has to be, too.

But then I couldn't resist, and I revealed myself to that editor. "I just wanted to correct something," I wrote to him. "In fact, it was I, President Gerald Ford, who wrote that chapter that, as you said, 'no one gives a shit' about. I wonder how you like those apples."

The response came faster and furioser. "President Ford, you must know that I was JOKING when I wrote you that email. Of course I knew it was your delightful handiwork. Our company would be HAPPY to publish your book - please write more of it."

On principle, I was thinking of confronting that editor who, at first, wasn't willing to see my book for what it was - amazing - but I didn't want that weepy jerk to think that I had a "bad attitude" or anything.

So what did I tell you? I am a brilliant writer. Just like I was the perfect candidate for that job at CRAP. They loved me over there, too. Things are coming up roses, my friends.

Then again, how can you believe anything that I write here? Maybe I'm such a brilliant author that I'm fooling you with my fiction RIGHT NOW. Maybe you're that type of gullibe person who thinks that when I say, "I'm so hungry that I'm going to go eat a horse," it means I'm actually going to go eat a horse. Sheesh - you could not be more wrong! While I've got a megabucks book deal, a sweet part-time job, and a fabulous unicorn, all you've got are issues. I suggest you deal with them.

There is no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe,
Gerry