A while ago, talking to one of my bosses, I mentioned what I was planning on studying, and the studying of it that I had done. So she asked to see the paper I'd written about it. I had a copy printed out, for bizarre reasons, so I dropped it off at her office, and joked, "now, don't go judging my writing skills based on this." (the paper was written in 1998.)
"welll," she said, "then you'd better give me something more recent to judge that on." So I sent her Firing.
Today, she stopped me in the hall to tell me she'd finally read them. She'd warned me she reads slowly, and frankly, I didn't care all that much. I mean, I wanted her to read them eventually because i was interested in what she'd think about them, but I didn't need her to read them for a deadline. So she liked them both--the paper reminded her of a book she was reading: The history of the wife, which I just added to my wishlist--and the story she loved. I love people liking my stuff. She liked the world building and the flow of the story. (it's not what she said, exactly, but I'm getting practiced translating reader to writer.) She liked it. I like people liking my stories. I would like some of those people to include editors, but I like anyone liking my stories.
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