Tep, if you want his head to explode we could send him the manuscript I'm editing. In an overheard conversation, someone just "charmed" in. It's a winner, let me tell you.
'Get It Done'
Natter 64: Yes, we still need you
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Tep, if you want his head to explode we could send him the manuscript I'm editing. In an overheard conversation, someone just "charmed" in. It's a winner, let me tell you.
::cries and cries and cries::
::cries and cries and cries::
Yes indeed. It's a memoir about ... how much this guy thinks we should all believe in God, and REJECT SATAN.
Envy me. Go on.
Truly, the life of an editor is glamorus.
Tell him it's a test for the writers, Teppy. It's carefully designed to see whether they have sufficient attention to detail.
The one time I helped a friend out on a rush editing job she had, it was for a really interesting book--a translation of a book on the history of the bossa nova. I learned all about the guy who wrote "Girl from Ipanema".
In an overheard conversation, someone just "charmed" in. . . . It's a memoir about ... how much this guy thinks we should all believe in God, and REJECT SATAN.
Well, the first step would probably be knocking off the charms and other spell-casting.
In an overheard conversation, someone just "charmed" in.
Oh, like those NBC ads. I hope it was with a glockenspiel. Xylophones are so passe.
Kathy, I watched the same special late Saturday night!
Oh my god. Big!Boss made one of the assistants go down to our storage space and root through boxes and boxes of galleys going back to last year, because no one knows exactly when the Horrible Misspelled Guidelines were written, so we don't know which month it would have been filed with.
Our storage area? Is a section of the underground parking garage, delineated by thick concrete walls, with a chain-link fence "door." It's been in the 40s and 50s for over a week, and she has to dig through those boxes in an unheated concrete room in an underground parking garage.
For one goddamn misspelled word.
(No wonder everyone hates our department.)