Things NOT to do when you meet with your first real-live, honest-to-goodness, I-may-actually-pay-you editor.
Smell like dog.
Really. It’s not advisable.
So the next time you have ten minutes before you are supposed to leave the house and the dog suddenly decides she has to go out? Check the back gate to make sure the moron yard-guy assistant didn’t leave the back gate open.
‘Cause when your very cute, but very old and mostly deaf dog makes a run for it you’re going to be sprinting down the street in a cute pair of kitten heels and an outfit picked especially for this meeting (that naturally included white pants) yelling at a dog that really can’t hear you.
And that makes a ton of sense, right?
Also? When the dog sees you and realizes she has done something wrong and decides to, on her own, sprint (old-age style) back home, but forgets that we moved and runs to the OLD house two doors down causing the new owners’ dog to go batshit at 10:30 in the morning, this is not something you want to have to deal with as the clock to your writing future ticks away LOUDLY.
Then? When you have to pick her up and carry her back home you will realize that (a) she weighs an awful lot after running in kitten heels and (b) she smells and now so do you.
And of course you have no time to change clothes or re-shower so you lay on a light spray of perfume and hope for the best being careful not to shake hands too long or too closely to aforementioned editor while hoping she doesn’t notice you may still be panting a little from your 100-yard dash earlier.
And yet, miraculously, you get the gig. Even if the editor actually said, “Are you a writer? Because I’m surprised I’ve never heard of you.”
You’re stealthy like that.
A stealthy, soon to be in print, baby-stepping, fledgling writer.
Now. Go shower. You smell like dog.