Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Writer's Lament





A young friend once sent her in-progress fantasy novel to me for review. I read it. Then, feeling virtuous and magnanimous, I all but tore that thing apart, criticizing this and making little of that. 

She didn't say much to all my lofty suggestions.

Later, she posted the manuscript. I read it again. I thought it vastly improved... and said so.

"This is the same version I sent you before," she wrote. "I didn't make any changes." 

Red face -- big-time. I've never done that again. 

No comments:

Dead Beat and Plum Tuckered Out

     We got home about 11:30 p.m. last night, after a quick visit to the kids in Arvada, some 4 1/2 hours away. But the Brick did it in 3 1...