Of Novelettes and Paying Editing Gigs
In between getting my literary rocks off drafting my "Full Moon Addiction/Rehab" work-in-progress , I received important business news. My publisher checked in yesterday. Had I started looking at his novelette, which he sent the other week? I hadn't. But, being a self-respecting writer, I didn't tell him that, of course. First, I perused the first two chapters over my lunch break. H e sent nine, which I had already stored in a file. Then I could honestly reply soon after that, yes, I was looking at it. What format did he prefer? He had emailed a mix of Word and Rich Text Format files. And how deep or into-the-weeds should I get with my comments and edits? This news seemed to ... please him? Yes — it must have. He immediately offered me a bona fide, paying, editing gig on a historical fiction novel. I had hoped, from how well things went editing the anthology of queer fairy tales starring hirsute and hefty gay men, that he might send me some work down the line.