Got a call last night, late from my editor. He's really not MY editor but I like to call him that, makes me feel all writery. He is running my piece Saturday morning in The Hartford Courant.
It's nice to be published again, never gets old. To have someone in the business recognize my efforts is great and it's nice making a little, very little jingle.
He had to edit for space, not a problem, and he added and changed a few things. It really is a better piece. Everytime they blue pen it I feel like, why the hell didn't I think of that and geez I feel dumb. Editors are really smart people, good with the delete key and terrific with the insert, at least he is.
Well I'm into writing essays again. It feels good to be back to the world of reality and out of the one of make-believe, for a while anyway.