Diary of a Mad Editor

I get an email today from this woman who has a story in the forthcoming issue of The 13th Warrior Review. The woman is upset because the issue hasn’t been published yet.  It’s true that the issue’s publication date has been pushed back several times. I can understand her distress. All I can do is apologize for the delay and persuade her that it’s coming.  But it’s not coming this week. Maybe not even next week. I’ve got sixteen other deadlines this week and beginning of next and I have to give those jobs that actually pay me some money priority over a literary ezine that has never made a dime in it’s ten-year history.

Still, when I get pressure from a writer or an interested reader of the ezine, I am reminded of a time in my life in my teens and early 20’s, when I was working my way through college in the receiving department of a local retail store. At Christmas time, they’d put me on a front end cash register. I hated it. Mostly I hated the long lines of exasperated customers. And of course, right around the time when the line got heavy, five minutes before closing time, the receipt printer would either jam or run out of paper. And you could hear the collective groans of the people in line. And there’d always be some bitchy old woman with three cart loads full of yarn or cat food or something. And at least one loud mouth who’d complain about the wait time out loud. And upstairs the manager was watching to see how fast the lines were moving. And I’m fumbling with the printer and praying I’d get the people out of there and get to my car in one piece and with coming up short on my receipts. That’s how I feel when I have deadline. Like I’m back working at that store.