Is that a ferret in your pants…or are you just happy to see me?

Last night, the New York City chapter of the RWA bestowed the Editor of the Year award on Marianne’s and my editor, Mr. Christopher Keeslar.  I was unable to attend the award ceremony but I sent along the following (RWA President Elizabeth K. Mahon read it on my behalf) :

“Dear Chris,

Congratulations!  You are a fine editor, indeed.  Brilliant, actually.  And
that’s the truth.  I’ve never met anyone who could plot as well as you
can.  Nor anyone who could find so clearly the logic in a story muddle.
It’s uncanny the way you can reference a myth or an obscure legend to
illustrate an arc or add a layer of meaning.  It’s astounding, all the
things in your brain, those bits and pieces of knowledge that you pull out
with such casual aplomb, but which so often transform a passage into
something much more than it was before.

Well…except for that one time when you told me I needed to add “and then
his sex sprang free!” to that one scene.  Yeah…to be totally honest, I
think it was better before. Sort of makes it sound like a wild ferret
leaping from his trousers.  As if his–what’s that?  What’s that you say?
This is being read before an audience?

Oh!  Oh, my.  Um.  I digress.

The fact is that your instincts for what makes a book work well are truly
unparalleled, and your ability to pinpoint that which can take a good
manuscript to the level of greatness is a gift.

This award could not go to a more deserving editor.  Congratulations.  And
nevermind about the ferret.”

Chris and the bewigged Rebels

I did manage to catch up with Chris, Marianne, and the rest of the gang after the show.  Wine was imbibed, and if I’m not mistaken, there was some sort of pact sworn to start including “and then his sex sprang free!” in other books as a kind of homage. 

Oh dear.  That’s a lot of ferrets.

Liz