The Editrix and Me
I went to my “board” (see Chapter 11 in The Essentials of Fabulous) and told them I needed an editor. “Go find her and make sure she’s got a sense of humor,” I said. I waited. I sent meek emails wondering if they had found “the one” but no name came up that had everything I needed – nanny, nursemaid, full-time hand-holding, hilarious wit, superb editing skills and an ability to figure out what I was writing about. Finally, word came. She lived in Plymouth, Massachusetts. “She was young,” they said. “She was terrific,” they extolled. “She’s fun to work with.” I called her immediately.
At that point, The Editrix was Susan Gedutis Lindsay. Later on, she would be renamed The Editrix. She sounded wary on the phone and later admitted she worried that I was a “Danielle.” (Evidently some New York-based writer named Danielle who didn’t pay her bills on time. Later on she would eat her words but this was the beginning of our story.)
We agreed to meet in Boston. The night before our meeting, she sent me a 20-page outline for a book that had no theme, no plot, and no characters. It sounded good to me.
It was raining the day we got together. I remember because I wore old shoes. I was not at my best…the shoes weren’t polished. I would have to summon up all my strength to get through this meeting.
Four hours later, she convinced me I could do it. We didn’t know what the book would be about but we would figure that out together (nanny/nursemaid). She would help me create the outline (hand-holding). She would hold me accountable (ooh, a little spanking too?) and we would get the show on the road.
We met twice in the year and a half I wrote the book. We spoke rarely but she wrote emails that were Center Court/Wimbledon. She was Federer to my Nadal. We whizzed those communiqués over the net, slamming them hard, having a blast while doing the hard work of writing and editing, polishing and tweaking.
The Editrix believed in me more than I believed in myself. She put everything into the book (and me). She was “the one.” I haven’t stopped thanking her and never will. Here’s to you, Editrix. In gratitude.