Thieves World Part 23

Ace calls again. They want additional information for the cover copy. They also want a word count. I explain the situation as calmly as I can. Half-way through my explanation, the phone melts.

Ma Bell fixes my phone in record time (I am rapidly becoming their favourite customer), and I hurriedly call Marion to ask for a rough word-count on her unsubmitted story. She tells me she sent me a letter which must not have arrived. (It didn't.) She tells me she'll have to withdraw from the project because of time pressures in her other writing commitments. She tells me to stop gibbering and say something. I calm myself and explain I'd really like to have a story from her. I explain I really need her story. I mention that her character is on the cover of the book. She observes that the water gus.h.i.+ng from the phone is threatening to flood her living room and agrees to try to squeeze the story into her writing schedule ... before she flies to London in two weeks.

With steady hand but trembling mind, I call Ace and ask for Jim Baen. I explain the situation: I have six stories in hand (yes, I finally finished mine) and two more on the way ... a little late ... maybe. He informs roe that with just six stories the book will be too short. He wants at least one more story and an essay from me about how much fun it was to edit the anthology. To calm my hysterics, he suggests I commission a back-up story in case the two en route don't arrive in time. I point out that there are only two weeks remaining before the deadline. He concedes that with such a limited time-frame, I probably won't be able to get a story from a 'name' author. He'll let me work with an 'unknown', but the story had better be good!

Christine DeWees is a kindly, white-haired grandmother who rides a Harley and wants to be a writer. Lynn and I have been criticizing her efforts for some time and have repeatedly encouraged her to submit something to an editor. So far, she has resisted our proddings, insisting that she would be embarra.s.sed to show her work to a professional editor. I decide to kill two birds with one stone.

In my most disarming 'nothing can go wrong' tones, I give my spiel to Christine and pa.s.s her a Thieves' World package. Three hours later, my phone rings.

Christine loves the character ofMyrtis, the madam of the Aphrodisia House and is ready to do a story centring around her. I stammer politely and point out that Myrtis is one of Marion's characters and that she might object to someone else writing her characters. Christine cackles and tells me she's already cleared it with Marion (don't ask me how she got the phone number!), and everything is effervescent. Two days later, she hands me the story, and I still haven't gotten around to looking up 'effervescent' in the dictionary.

With seven stories now in hand, I declare Thieves' World I to be complete and begin writing my 'fun fun' essay. The stories from Marion and Phil can wait until the second book.

Then Marion's story arrives.

Marion's story interfaces so nicely with Christine's that I decide to use them both in the first book. Rather than cut one of the * other stories, the volume is a.s.sembled with intros, maps, eight stories, and essay, crated, and s.h.i.+pped off to New York.

End volume one! Print it!

The whole whirlwind process of editing this monster child was only vaguely as I had imagined it would be. Still, in hindsight, I loved it. With all the worries and panics, the skyhigh phone bills and the higher bar bills, I loved every minute. I find myself actually looking forward to the next volume ... and that's what worries me!