Disclaimer: The Book Doctor is not a medical doctor, licensed psychotherapist, family counselor, or even a very caring person, although he does possess an advanced degree (don’t you wish you did?). However, he was once employed, briefly, “fixing up” submitted manuscripts to render them fit for publication, and now, through a wholly incredible twist of fate, readers—those few who remain—write to him regularly with their book-related queries and quandaries…
Dear Book Doctor,
Chet? Is that you, darlin’? It’s me, Jean. The “slim blonde” you mentioned in your column a couple weeks ago? (Kid Stuff, Nov. 19.) Thanks for that, by the way. Unfortunately I’m neither anymore—having a little boy changes so many things!
Which brings me to Matthew, or “Matty” as I call him (against his objections). He’s been going on and on about some “doctor,” and also something about a “salted nut roll”—I thought he had a tummy ache and needed to see Dr. Pedersen! Oh, you should see his face when I say “tummy” in his presence—he looks like such a little man! A very red and angry little man.
Which brings me to you. It is you, isn’t it Chet? I finally looked at the website Matty kept going on and on about—he has such an imagination!—and read back through all your old columns, and there’s something about the voice that I recognize. It’s you, isn’t it. I just know it is. It’s so crazy how all this happened! I mean, what are the chances little Matty would write to you, and you would turn out to be you? You know what I mean.
Oh, Matty keeps bugging me to ask you if you were serious about serializing his “novel” on your website. He has such an imagination! Wow, I can’t believe it’s really you, after all these years! How are you? Still got a sweet tooth, if you know what I mean? Ever get back to the old Tar Heel State?
Signed, Jean in North Carolina
(Matty’s mom)
Dear Jean,
First, and this goes out to all my loyal readers, if not disciples, out there: although I may (or may not) have adopted various aliases at one time or another, including but not limited to “Chet,” I am not to be addressed as “Chet” for the purposes of this column. I didn’t go to Book Doctor school for eight years to be called “Chet.” Thank you.
Hi Jean (it sounds so clean when you put it that way). It is indeed a small world, and shrinking rapidly. The noose is definitely tightening. The sheer coincidence of your little boy Matthew (please don’t call the lad “Matty”) writing to me, and of your tracking me down, after all these years, through this channel, is something I would reject out of hand were we characters in a work of fiction; but alas we are not so fortunate. We must deal with the realities.
How un-slim and un-blonde would you say you are now, not that it matters? For instance, what numerical value would you assign yourself, on a slimness scale where “1” is Nicole Richie at her most anorexic, and “10” is some poor unfortunate who must be buried in a piano crate? Or on a blondeness scale where “1” is Nicole Richie at her most bleached, and “10” is her roots?
I may (or may not) be returning to the “Tar Heel State” in the near future, if I find myself with a sudden hankering for a “salted nut roll.” In the meantime, we would be delighted to begin serializing young Matthew’s novel on our site. I assume the lad is ruggedly handsome, yet intelligent-looking, with an intensity that burns like a white-hot flame? Do you have any recent pictures?
On second thought, if a picture is worth a thousand words, just think how one compares with a couple of silly numerical values! If you could send a recent picture of yourself, c/o this site, I’d love to have one, for sentimental reasons. Also any DNA samples of young Matthew you might have lying around—I’m told a few cells scraped from the inside of the cheek with a tongue depressor, placed in a petri dish, and flash-frozen would be quite acceptable.
Yours literarily, The Book Doctor
Having your own literary quandary? Send it to The Book Doctor! TheBookDoctor@literarious.com