Dear Mom I Am Fine

Mostly this post is for my mom who, if I post a few melancholy things in a row and then don't post for a while, leaves me a series of increasingly concerned messages (Sample mom voicemail: "Sarah, you know when I was praying for your book while it was on submission, I did promise God you would go to mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral if your book sold, so could you please confirm the date you will be attending, also after your last post I wonder if you need help, let me know, thanks, love you, Mom").

So basically, MOM, I AM FINE, I WILL CALL YOU BACK WHEN I AM NOT AT ONE OF MY SIX JOBS. Also I have HEARD, from OTHER PEOPLE, that sometimes when a person sells a book, once the elation and sheer joy has settled a bit, and the person receives that person's editorial letter, and sets cheerily to revising, that person might realize suddenly that the book that person wrote is in fact THE STUPIDEST BOOK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, LIKE FOR REAL, and must be REWRITTEN ENTIRELY, preferably by SOMEONE ELSE, since clearly that person is TOTALLY INCAPABLE OF WRITING A BOOK THAT IS NOT STUPID, and maybe other well-meaning people are all like "Obviously your book is not stupid since it is being published and anyway didn't you say your editor was really smart and awesome so why would she buy a book that wasn't good" and the person is all like HAVE YOU BEEN IN A BOOKSTORE LATELY OR EVER IN YOUR LIFE DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT "PUBLISHED" HAS ABSOLUTELY NO RELATIONSHIP TO "NOT STUPID" AND POSSIBLY THE EDITOR WAS DRUNK WHEN SHE BOUGHT MY BOOK THESE THINGS DO HAPPEN and that person may become inordinately stressed for a time re: the stupidness of the person's book. Of course that person is not ME as your friend the Rejectionist Sarah is in fact the very portrait of mental health and stability, so much so that if you were to look up "the portrait of mental health and stability" in the Oxford English Dictionary you would find a little picture of me, looking very chipper and holding a kitten. Anyway the point is MOM I AM FINE, THANK YOU. I just work a lot and am trying to make this stupid book less stupid and do forty different freelance things and am the boss of the office of some poets, which is its own very particular kind of bossing, good lord. Oh Poets! they are very charming, and so devoted to Poetry that it is impossible to be cross with them, even when they say for example "Here are six sheets of differently-sized paper I have covered with a record of My Expenses, which are in fact illegible scrawls in permanent marker, for accounting purposes," or "No I did not respond to this Extremely Urgent email you sent as I went to South America without telling anyone," or "Does anyone know if the printer has toner yet," this last accompanied by a wistful gaze that somehow overlooks the poets' office manager jumping up and down and shrieking NO ONE TOLD ME WE WERE OUT OF TONER I CAN'T ORDER MORE TONER IF NO ONE TELLS ME WE ARE OUT OF TOOOOOOOOONERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, etc. I thought it would be sort of hilarious to start an anonymous blog about the exploits of a Poets' Office Manager but then, well, you know. Me and my anonymous blogs. Oh! speaking of! this blog will be getting a fancy makeover shortly, do not be alarmed when it happens. I think it will look quite nice and it will be even MORE impossible to share my content on your preferred social media platform, aren't you excited. I can see you jumping up and down and clapping all the way over here. Have a good weekend, dear creatures, and stay out of trouble, or get in trouble, if you'd prefer. When people ask you why you got in trouble you tell them I said you can say "Because it's For My Book."