My life is over.
I was in a Wikipedia hole earlier today and came across something that made me realize that there’s a mistake in Swish. Not a typo, not a misprint, but an actual factual error. The time when it could be fixed has long gone.
Now, it’s not the kind of thing many people will notice, as it involves a very obscure variation of a somewhat obscure custom in an obscure field.
Actually, it’s possible that no one will notice, because the few people who know about the very obscure variation are not the kind of people who are likely to read my book.
And besides, since I’ll be arranging for every one of them to meet with an unfortunate accident between now and May 13 (the book’s release date), everything will probably turn out okay.
Did you cross-reference the “fact” somewhere? Because while I’m the first to turn to Wikipedia for a quick answer, it’s hardly the most reliable source.
“Actually, it’s possible that no one…”
you realize, of course, that you’ve just thrown down the gauntlet.
i would suggest that, rather than preoccupying yourself with futile assassinations between now and said release date, your time might be more constructively spent in devising a suitable prize for the inevitable winner of the “find the flaw in faustus’ new book” contest you inadvertently launched today.
Sorry Faustus, I have no comfort to offer. Someone is certainly going to spot the error. It is a rule of life that on any given topic there is a whole tribe of anoraks just waiting to pounce. Before you know where you are, your inbox will be full of facetious, arch, ill-spelled ungrammatical messages pointing out, in tones of exhausted disbelief, your crashing mistake.
Ah, the joys of authorship!
Well, just as long as it doesn’t turn out you made the whole thing up and are actually a privileged girl from a good family in Syosset, I think maybe I can eventually come around to forgiving you for this egregious oversight.
Your initial reaction was probably the best. Be sure to do yourself in in the most fabulous way possible. This will help establish your claim to be the gayest man ever, greatly increase book sales, and — most importantly — divert attention from your factual error.
I’m thinking that hanging yourself with a rainbow scarf from one of the windows above the Stonewall is the way to go, but of course you’ll want to lose some weight and get a manicure and a really good haircut first. Still, you were going to be doing those things anyway, so the hanging itself will be only a minor inconvenience.
Actually, Campbell, I fill Faustus’ inbox with facetious, arch, ill-spelled ungrammatical messages pointing out, in tones of exhausted disbelief, my own ridiculous assumptions on a daily basis, so he should be used to it.