The renovations on my apartment building seem to require drilling holes in sheetmetal. The work crew is eager to get started.
The noise levitates me from my shark hammock: I search for coffee, locate my glasses (which I find in the freezer cause I was checking for an expiration date on the vodka last night) and am very glad to remember it's Sunday and not Monday.
But, this is the last day I have to talk to one of my clients before she swans off to some paradise in Central America for a week of sunning, reading, and not working (which I had to pretty much insist on.)
Since we can't talk, we text:
Client: Will reviews come out before the book is published?
(we'd been discussing how to use reviews for publicity purposes)
Me: Yes, prepubescent reviews in the trades are common.
Client: I hate to sound stupid but what is a prepubescent review?
Me: (tapping furiously) Pre PUBLICATION. Fucking Otto Kerrect!
Me: Prepub like Kikis and LJ
Client: who are Kiki and LJ?
Me: (contemplating Otto-cide) Kirkus. Library Journal.
Client: aha! Got it. And how will we know if they review the book?
Me: Reviews will turn up on Amazing.
Client: oh, I know this one: AMAZON!
Me: I'm going back to bed! Don't fall off the zipper in Costa Richard.
Me: Zip line
Client: I'm laughing too hard to type.
Client: you should blog about this.
Me: Great minds work aloe.
|Yet another place I am not!|