A Cellarful of Nose - Future Shoes

and a ticking mantle clock, a month before The National Book
Crunch. What to do, what to do ...
Imagine the imposter syndrome welling up in him, the
regurge, the shame. Now magnify that by the entire publishing
industry.
There are wonderful people out there who love books the
way they love oxygen, deep and cleansing and life-giving.
But mostly, it's baseball. I mean, it's a business.
I have known agents who did not read books even after they
were published, and the check for 15 percent was mailed.
I have known editors who did not read the books they edited
from cover to cover.
I have known writers who – this comes painfully close to
being autobiographical – were psychologically unable to read
their own work before submitting it.
These books tended not to be among the prize nominees, for
reasons that can be deduced.
I have seen the best minds of my generation reduced to
howling at the footsteps of an approaching deadline. And thought
to myself, what do you expect?
I only know of one saint in this process, and it is the copy
editor of a book – the person blamed for mistakes. Right or
wrong, she did see each character on the page, and sound it out
mentally.
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