April 14, 2008...3:07 pm
The next great thing
An editor was in my office. I gently chastised him for passing on my friend’s manuscript. He felt remorse, and admitted that he couldn’t yet bear to part with the book (it’s sitting in his office at home) even though he and his boss decided in the end that we weren’t the right house for it.
“Not the right house?” I said. “The book has our name practically stamped all over it.”
The editor hung his head.
I told him how this writer was amazing and already carved a lovely path for himself, and that what came next would be superlatively grand. Then I told the editor that he should steal my friend away from the other publisher—for the next book, at least.
We both sighed.
“I guess I have to wait a little longer for the next great thing,” said the editor.
I waved my hand hello. “Right here,” I said. Then I put my hand down in embarrassment. My voice had squeaked. I never talk about my writing to the editors at the office. What bravado.
“All right,” said the editor. “I am waiting.”
“So am I,” I said. Then, to deflect attention away from myself, as I am wont to do, I said, “But you already had it in your hands.”
2 Comments
April 14, 2008 at 4:08 pm
I hate to be Mr. Black Cloud, but one can waste a lifetime waiting for the next big thing. Someone should tell that editor that sometimes little things are really big things in disguise.
And that sometimes The Next Big Thing is sitting in our same office.
April 14, 2008 at 5:55 pm
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I agree completely, especially with regard to my friend’s book, as my house has taken chances on plenty of emerging writers. I didn’t mean to embarrass the editor, who’s an incredibly generous mentor, but when my mind is boggled—and it’s completely boggled in this case (and then some)—I had to squeak out “Are you nuts?”
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