Eva,
I certainly did not have a problem with anything you wrote, or anyone else for that matter. One of the first things you learn as a reporter is you can't let your ego get in the way of what's best for the paper. Being edited is just part of the job, and quite honestly, what I wrote wasn't clear. I'm not under a deadline (other than a self-imposed one) but given the huge amount of time, effort and money I've got invested in this, getting it just right is the most important thing in my life right now. Mike was right. I'm trying too hard to impress this editor and mangled syntax won't do it. Thankfully, I don't think I'm guilty of that in my prologue or sample chapter; at least no one who has read them both has told me that. I started reading Doris Kearns Goodwin's book last night, and the first thought that crossed my mind (besides, "wow, this is a heavy book") was the elegant simplicity evident in her writing style.
One of my literary heroes is E.B. White, and reading of the pain he went through to produce an essay, you wondered why would he ever want to do it again? Yet he did, and not once would you ever believe that he carried around so much self-doubt about his talent that he often begged his postmaster to retrieve an essay he had just sent out because, in his mind, it still wasn't right. Anyone interested in going beyond good writing to exquisite should read his essay,
Death of a Pig. Andy Rooney, who liked his
Here is New York essay better, once said of White "He put down the English language simply and with more grace than anyone else I ever read."
How's that for an epitaph?
Best
Rob
