Yeah, I'm talkin' to you. No, don't turn around, there isn't anybody else here. I'm talkin' to you -- you, with the manuscript sitting on your desk that you haven't read yet. The one that you agreed to read -- yeah, you agreed, don't pretend you didn't. Hey! Look at me! Was it a month ago? Two months? THREE?
You bastard. And it's still sitting there? You haven't even taken off the rubber band yet? And school starts in a couple weeks? You make me sick.
OK, I want you to think about something. I want you to think about your first book, and how happy you were when you sent it off to the press. I want you to remember that your editor told you s/he would get back to you in six weeks, and by the time it got to be two months, you were like, "Geez, what do I do?" You were like, "Hey, I set aside August and September for final revisions, so what's up with this?" And finally after three or four months, one of your colleagues told you it was ok to call, they wouldn't reject your book just because you called. And maybe -- just maybe -- you really needed that book contract for your tenure case. Remember that? I thought you did, wise guy. And some %#$&*@ had your manuscript sitting on a desk kinda like yours the whole time. Or was using it for a doorstop, or some damn thing.
So read the effing manuscript, ok? Write some helpful comments if you can pull your head out of whatever pathetic part of your body you have it stuffed in. And don't forget to send your social security number so the press can cut the check, or send you twice the amount in books.
Thank you. You skunk.
Have Yourself A Merry Little Mythmas
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