i recently handed over some strange happenings for a book someone else is compiling and the author sent back the finished work for my final look through.
my initial reaction was far less than jovial.
i guess i expected more from a published author. something with a bit of style and flair. but this? this was Joe Friday's penciled notes typed verbatim - complete with spelling errors. this was just the facts ma'am. just the facts. and, even some of the facts were wrong.
it was disappointing to the max and i moaned out loud to nobody that had i known it was going to read like that i would have submitted something with style and flair.
but wait. what's this? a glimmer of hope at the top of the page?
"below is the finished product. feel free to correct any errors."
my in! yes! i can just rearrange his stuff a little. tweak it here and there. yep, that'll work.
i started typing my heart out thinking; now this will be something i can show off to my friends.
"hey look! i have a story in a published book! me! little old aeolistic me! how cool is this?!?"
and as people are wandering through my thoughts looking at my story i see that the author is sitting behind the book signing table lighting my firework display. people have read the book and thought; 'damn i like this author's style and i love this book excerpt enough to stand in line on a dismal rainy night to have it signed!'
wait a minute! that's my writing! you're getting the glory for my story! i put my personal stamp on that and i got nothing but a nasty taste on my tongue!
i thought better of the author's Sergeant Joe Friday style.
i realized maybe Officer Gannon was wise to keep his mouth closed and let Joe think he was the smartest guy on the force.
i backed up the curser deleting my style and flair. i simply corrected his facts (and his spelling, though i thought long and hard about that) and sent it back.
his name is Joe Friday. he writes the books.