The Broken Teaglass Read Online Free PDF

quite believe that…. Here we are … here’s a plural.”
    She held one out to me. I took it and read it.

editrix
    Mrs. Hopkins was one of the only
editrixes
at the journal, but she was one of the most valuable members on staff. She had a unique ability to spot and foster young writing talent. Male colleagues patronizingly referred to her style as “the motherly touch.”
    It was from a news magazine.
    “I guess I could quote that one,” I said.
    “And another.” Mona handed me another slip. “The other plural form. Perfect.”
    I read the slip.

editrix
    She warmed that water with her hatred. She sighed plagues into that water. I didn’t care. In this chill and inhuman place Iwas obedient and invisible to everything. I needed that tea to remember I was alive, warm-blooded. I always carried the tea slowly up the stairs and to my desk. I drank it with careful relish. No spilling on the citations. No slurping, no satisfied Aaaah! Such noises would echo through the cubicles and start an uncomfortable collective shifting of the editors and
editrices
in their seats. So I always sipped quietly.
    The citation was from a book called
The Broken Teaglass
, written by someone named Dolores Beekmim, and published in 1985.
    “This one’s kind of … weird, though,” I said slowly. “Should I be quoting something like this? There’s something a little off here.”
    “Whadya mean?” Mona took it and read it.
    “Kind of sounds like …” I looked at Mona, hoping she would say what I was thinking, so I wouldn’t have to risk sounding stupid. “But maybe not. I mean, a citation can be a lot of things, you know? There are officers’ citations, in police departments, and—”
    Mona was silent for a moment. “‘No spilling on the citations’?” she said, wrinkling her nose. She read it again.
    “I think this takes place … here,” she said.
    “Yeah … that’s kind of what it sounded like.”
    “Or maybe at some other dictionary company office. But there’s, like, only one or two other dictionary companies in the country.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “I didn’t know there was a book like this.” Mona seemed tickled. For the first time since I’d approached her desk, her smile seemed real. “A novel about Samuelson. Isn’t that amazing? Can I hold on to this for now?”
    “Sure. Doesn’t seem like a very objective thing to be quoting, so I’ll look for something else.”
    “Right.” Mona looked distracted. She was watching Dan make his way to the men’s room. “Look through the rest of those cits. Then look through the ones for ‘dominatrix.’”
    “Yeah. All right. Sounds like fun.”
    “Don’t spend too much time on it.” Mona lowered her voice. “Dan probably just gave it to you so the guy doesn’t get any funny ideas about us being friends. The content of the answer probably won’t matter so much as the fact that a different editor’s name is signed on the bottom.”
    “Dan didn’t quite say it like that.”
    “Of course he didn’t. But that’s what he meant.”
    Dan finally started my “research reading” training on the following morning. I’d been looking forward to it since Dan told me that all editors—even lowly editorial assistants like myself—got to choose most of their own newspapers and magazines for the task. The idea that I could get paid to read
Rolling Stone
and
Time
really jazzed me. He started me off with a little packet of photocopied articles to practice on. I peeked at the titles of his selections while he spoke:
“Reality TV? Not!” “Learning to Say No.” “Lesbian Celluloid: Classic Screen Dykes.” “Uncle Sam Goody Wants YOU: Materialism as the New Patriotism?”
    “As you can see, I’ve tried to give you a good variety. Nothing too heavy for your first few times around. You’re likely to find some pretty informal writing in some of these. But remember that you’re not just looking for new words. The easiest thing to spot is new words, especially