Because every editor has a story, and EVERYONE needs some humor, I thought I would share portions of an article shared with me long ago by one of my college professors. Originally compiled and shared in National Lampoon Magazine, in their 1997 "True Facts" issue, with this disclaimer:
"True Facts publishes excerpts from unsolicited manuscripts sent to a prominent editor of serious fiction who wishes, understandably, to remain anonymous."
My personal favorite: I knew I had a bestseller in me--all I had to do was plumb my depths and out it would come, like some literary bowel movement.
"Then it's hopest," Dad said. "You meanhopless," my mother said. "And it's not hopless!"
The light that was Frannie went out.
Slicing the steak in Rena's cozy kitchen, I considered takinganother stab at marriage.
His organ began to beat so hard he thought it would pop out of his chest.
When Sue and Bob came home, they found their cook in the kitchen, shot to death. "That does it!" Bob said, exasperated. "We're moving!"
Then, when man's hatred for his brother had ripened like a swollen fruit, the fighting started and like a bastard child we named it the Civil War.
Thoughts flew like spaghetti in my brain.
The anguish of being selected a human sacrifice, tied to the altar and about to go to glory, was enough to send the young twenty-year-old warrior's blood pressure sky-high.
"You made Phi Beta Kappa in college, so there is no need forme to tell you the the debauching of the coterie is an exemplar for everycriminally minded youngster in America--and what makes the cotumacious coterie so bold is too much menilty."
Without moving, she reached across and kissed him.
The sudden expulsion of air caused the pouches of skin he used for cheeks to flutter like sails before a stiff wind.
Dora was pleased as punch to be chosen chairman of the refreshments committee.
My mind flew back in time to fathom the cause and effect of what I now had to face in grim retrospect.
Mrs. Rogers said, "I'm sorry I lost my temper, but I was grumpy, and when I'm grumpy I get grouchy."
The editor sighed. Look at all those Type O's.
Josh was at his sexual peek.
The medical examiner zipped his bag closed officiously. It looked to him like an open and shut case.
With her splendid blond mane and her ripe figure, Sally splendidly embodied the splendor of our American continent.
"You know me," Sammy said. "I never like to lay a gilt trip on anyone."
There was an "evil hint in the air," as a professional writer might put it.
Clues don't kill people, the inspector thought. People kill people.
Dale was not one to mince words and came directly to the point. "Hi," he said.
Founder Childress Ink ~ Ink-a-Dink
Over 30 years in publishing and editorial work, Kim is able to leverage her connections and skills to helps authors build and grow their personal brands and guides them into successful careers. As a writer herself, she is a prolific editor and deeply relates to her authors in their creative journeys. Follow Kim @KBChild on GoodReads, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Eventbrite, YouTube, and on all your favorite social media platforms in the universe!