Got the test copies of For Girls today and was surprised-slash-dismayed (well a bit) to see the cover'd come out with a pinkish cast allover. My book, she blushes!
A PINK book called FOR GIRLS (particularly seeing as how it mocks exactly such girlish conventions) just will not do.
The Cover Girls were lovely in their dying sunlight, still, but the "antiqued ivory" (meant to be reminiscent of an age-foxed page) was positively rosy.
So I have had to ask them to try again, which is to say,
"I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks"!
At least not anymore.
G's snippet has provoked much hilarity already. If you don't find the totally effed metaphors as amusing as I do, perhaps it's because you really do think poetry's like golf? (As if!)
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