Wednesday, April 28, 2010
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Search Poor Fool
Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never. Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O.
2 comments:
Sorry, Keith. Never happened to me. I have had stuff accepted, and minor change suggestion subsequently made as part of the galley process (e.g. use this spelling of this word for consistency)--but never had someone ask me to change a poem in order to publish it. Follow your gut.
Unless the poem is marred beyond recognition by the suggested changes, I would do them. In the end, the rights revert to you, so you change it back to way you wanted in the first place when you put into to a book.
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