My publisher, who shall be nameless (to protect the guilty) put her foot down. As well it wasn’t a boob or she’d’ve toppled over by force of gravity (or, as we now know, distortion of space/time continuum by massive objects) onto her face, possibly breaking something like …a neck. A boy can wish, can’t he! The other boob would break the fall. She’d bounce to a stop at the bottom of the gravity well.
Well, she wanted a layout done by her layout person rather than publish the layout of my – what looked like to her – typescript. OK, I replied to her email: you’re the publisher, you have to keep in mind what’d contribute to commercial success, yours is the decision – on what I knew nothing about. I have to trust she does, though occasionally A hae ma doots.
Then I went onto her other emails on the subject. The publisher writes emails with a total disregard for declaring subject content. Into that box she puts the beginning of her first sentence that sometimes gets disregarded because I ignore the subject matter and proceed to the emails themselves (quite often in the replies to them) which …don’t make sense until I realise who’s emailing and reorient. (You should see her tweets!) Nor are her emails composed to include everything at one go. The most essential information is often omitted and comes in the next email, if at all. One receives a plethora one systematically goes through from the bottom up. Anyway, another in this most recent urgent flurry contained the threat to pull the plug on the whole enterprise if I didn’t – and I paraphrase – kowtow. There was yet another, whether by design or not, ostensibly not sent to me but about me to other people! Naturally I got emotional and have never known me to give into threats, not even when being beaten up. I didn’t know what to do except express the increasing irritation I felt because I was confused what to do. I’d already conceded what I was being threatened with excommunication or gulag for if I didn’t. Replying systematically took up all my computer time at the library.
I then worked off the emotion, as I do, by telling all and sundry about it until it was all talked out. Then the layout person I shall call Georgina (to protect the innocent) got onto me, just me, with a really nice layout.