Whew. Then off to the station to voice tracks after another flurry of emails to try and nail down the pronunciation of one of the guys in the story.
This among a blizzard of emails about titles. Spent a stunning 40 minutes in conference call yesterday trying to "nail down" the title. This while noting and having noted to me that the publishing house, should we be so lucky as to secure a contract, will in fact pick the title. This is how the nonfiction biz works. And it should, too. They have the whole marketing machine of know-how behind them, right? And yet. The phone calls and emails continued. Don't know what we were doing, actually. Except arguing the merits of tepid and incredibly long, or bizarre or boring, or zingy but meaningless titles. And moving the commas around on the final draft.
THE EXERCISE: Chant to self: It will end. It will end. It will go out and be OK. Really.
SECONDARY EXERCISE: Feel gratitude. Radio reporting. Book proposal nearly done. Essays in circulation. It doesn't suck. It doesn't.