Her Insult Saved Me

By Kristine Laco

 “Good first draft.”

First words from the developmental editor who had reviewed my memoir.

She could not have known what she read was my eighth or maybe forty-seventh draft, because I’d stopped counting.

I couldn’t see beyond those three words. I tried, but tears blurred the screen. I closed my laptop and collected tissues and a pint of ice cream.

First draft? Who does she think she is?

Scoop.

What does she know about me?

Scoop, scoop.

She’s right. ...