Our first editor practices the dreaded stink eye as a youngster
At some point, over 90,000-plus words were making Judy and me feel as though we were giving Tolstoy a run for his money in wordcount.
It was time to face the chilling reality -- to girder our literary loins and turn Hot Cross Buns over to another set of eyes.
Mary, our dot-every-i friend, work cohort and grammarian was the obvious choice. Even better, she wanted to do it!
Four months later we got it back. Sweet gawd, did she pour her strict Catholic, "Yes, Sister." "No, Sister." childhood into this one!
HCB gave us the "stink eye" when we poured over its red-penned edits and sticky notes full of suggestions and questions. Stink eye is a term Mary uses a lot. Her dog, Ben, gives Mary and her husband, Brad, the stink eye when he senses they're packing up to leave town or a squirrel teases him halfway up a tree on his morning walk. The stink eye makes you feel like a louse. You don't want to get the stink eye.
Yep, HCB gave Judy and me the stink eye. We should have seen it coming.
It was time to redeem ourselves.