Subject: Uncorrected Proof
From: Paul Miller (phm@midsouth.rr.com)
Date: Sat Feb 03 2001 - 03:51:47 GMT
Suzanne wrote:
Yes, I agree! We can make things up:
Cornish N.H. Feb 2 -- J.D. Salinger went out to get his paper in the
morning only to discover that it had landed in a pile of melting snow, well
away from his door. He trudged to get it and cursed repeatedly when he
discovered that the paper was partly soggy. The protective bag had slipped.
Upon returning to the door, he found it shut, locked, the dog barking
inside, wanting to be let out. Salinger tilted his head back and screamed
for his wife. She was in the shower and would not hear him for another 10
minutes.
During that time, he reflected that he should not agree to an interview
for the New Yorker: moments before, upon opening the door to go out, he had
thought that he might break his silence, agreeing to the recent request.
But the universe was clearly opposed to this idea. "Yeah, I was a fool to
consider such a thing," he muttered, as the door finally opened
again............................................
JDS steps through the door past his pretty young wife "the little bastard
can't seem to get the paper any closer to the house, I'm going to cancel the
damn thing". Remember you have done that a couple of times before and you
always start it back" his wife teases. "Yeah, that Hagar gets me back into a
subscription every time, hey would you dig out the old coffee pot and make a
pot for me?" "You gave up coffee years ago." "Don't you think I know that
g-ddamn it!"
"Listen this morning is a little different I just need a little joe to help
this day along." "Ok dear let me wash it out and java will be coming your
way shortly."
JDS stepped into the den and set the paper on a desk cluttered with letters
and books. A couple of uncovered panes of window allowed an unyielding
bright winter sun to beam across the room and indict a book with a letter
on it lying on the desk. JDS picks up the book and letter and stares
accusingly at them as if they didn't belong there and he was pondering just
who could have come in and left them.
JDS began reading the letter and mumbling under his breath. "Uncorrected
bound proof, hope this meets with your specifications, still a little
worried, promised hapworth, then they get this, willing to do as you say of
course." He lowered the letter, "Damn well do as I say or there are
hundreds of other publishers who will, ... christ the ego thing again, no
wonder I stopped publishing this is what it does to me".
"Here's your Joe as you call it dear be careful it's hot" his wife chirps as
she hands him a cup turns and leaves. Sipping the coffee JDS holds the book
up in the bright winter light "Yeah, this baby will blow their socks off" "J
D Salinger is Back and better than ever, hell I've read this one myself a
dozen times since I wrote the damn thing, best thing I ever wrote". He pulls
out the chair sits at the desk and begins to read the book yet again.
In the kitchen his wife on the phone "Yes he got the letter and I placed the
book under it." "I really appreciate you typing it up and sending it over on
publishers stationary and everything and he doesn't seem to notice that the
book is the same one that has been around that he is always reading." "I
think this will make him happy for awhile, thanks again for doing it"
JDS turns another page reading at his desk "Damn fine prose if I do say so
myself". The light coming through the window falls on the cover of the book,
it reads "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway.
Paul
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