"Finish the first novel for us yet, Mr. Renieu?" the editor asked.
"Yep. Left it down at the loading dock."
"I don't understand," said the puzzled editor.
"I do my writing on steno pads with a No. 2 pencil. You wanted a longish novel to begin the series--and you got it. All 829 steno pads, hand-written. You'll have to get someone to type 'em up. Hope you like the book. Send a copy of the proofs to my hotel and I'll correct 'em. 'Bye now."
And with a vague wave of his right hand, the best-selling author slouched back out of the room.
"Saints preserve us!" groaned the editor. "No wonder Gooch Brothers Publishers finagled to shunt this guy off on us. Oh, well, he is best-seller quality, so hopefully his books will make enough to give us all substantial bonuses!"
He lit his pipe, bent over his cluttered desk, and began making phone calls to arrange the transformation of 829 hand-written steno pads into a hardcopy manuscript. After than, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and tried to figure out some way of persuading Zobann Ranieu to use a computer to compose his next novel.