Having written the first chapter of my book Chasing Aphrodite, I now searched for an editor. Two answered my call.
The first was a 30-year-old blond, lissome beauty. She lived in the area and could come to my home. Perfect.
“What are your rates?”
“$62.50 per hour plus tax.”
“What a weird rate.”
“I attended a business class, and they computed it for me.”
There was one more candidate.
Instead of describing her service with enthusiasm, her response to my ad was short and sweet.
“I charge $45 an hour.”
With that kind of an opener (and ender) did I really want to meet her?
Doris had no car and lived in the boonies. Could I come to her? We set an appointment at 2.30 p.m. the next day at a Good Earth café. I was leaving for England two days later and had promised to give my chosen interviewee the go-ahead before I left.
At 2 p.m. the next day, I called Doris to say I was on my way. She’d forgotten the appointment. Why did I agree to reschedule the next day? I don’t know.
She turned up—a dumpy, imperious dowager.
“My rates are $45 per hour. What software do you use?”
“None. Only a handwritten notebook.” She grimaced.
“Well, as you’re here, we might as well look at it, I suppose,” inspecting me like a schoolmarm catching a truant.
The trouble was, with a page full of crow’s feet squiggles and half the words crossed out, even I couldn’t read my writing.
She studied the first page. I held my breath. She studied the next page…. and the one after. I had written this one story seven years ago and never revisited it.
She flung the first page at me.
“Read this! “
“ ….they seated me at a table like some parcel expected to be picked up the next day.”
“You know what that is?“ she demanded sternly. Before I could reply, she answered, ”It’s an iconic phrase.”
From monosyllabic sentences, she now burst into a torrent of words and ideas.
“This is what we’re going to do.”
I was back to being a child taking off on an aeroplane, my stomach left behind as my body hurtled into space.
The thirty-year-old lissome and oh so accommodating beauty was left in the dust.
