I respected
Lois more than anyone else I’ve worked with in thirty-seven years in the
profession. She belonged to that school of copy editors who maintained broad
personal libraries and could diagram a sentence faster than a master chef can
filet a fish. And she was my friend. Among so many other things, I enjoyed our
genial running argument over the legacy of FDR—I had to defer to her, who’d
lived through his administration—and was extremely moved when she paid me the
compliment of assembling a style sheet tailored specifically to my
idiosyncrasies. She edited with a light, sure hand; when she questioned
something, it was always worth serious consideration, and usually resulted in
making the change she’d suggested. (But how I enjoyed our banter when it didn’t!)
She spoiled
me. Upon leaving Houghton Mifflin, I found myself having to lecture copy
editors on elementary issues of grammar and usage. When I learned Lois had gone
freelance, I immediately petitioned Tor/Forge to employ her services for my
books. It felt like coming home.
She was a
gracious woman, and a true professional. I’m very much afraid we’ll never see
her like, but I’ll be forever grateful for the privilege of having worked with
her and to have been permitted to call her my friend. ….
I stole a
march on Lois just once, when I dressed a female character in a bustier and she
asked what a bustier was. I said, “Ask your husband.” ….
[Read] the
enclosed. It’s the dedication I’ve written for the current Amos Walker novel,
tentatively titled FORGETTING PAULA. Unfortunately, because of a logjam of
Estleman books awaiting publication, it won’t be out before 2015 at the
earliest.
No comments:
Post a Comment