Word: forking
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...these tasks usually overlap. Most acquisition editors must be adept with the pencil as well as the fork. And they must not only coax a blocked author into action, but also negotiate with copyreaders, handle the details of jacket design and flap copy, and send galleys out to well-known writers in the hope they will respond with enthusiastic blurbs. Once such jobs are completed, editors must become in-house cheerleaders, urging their publicity, advertising and sales departments to make an extra effort on behalf of their books. The average editor is doing all this on at least a dozen...
Closer to the mountain, the eruption blasted twelve miles of the once pristine north fork of the Toutle River into a lifeless moonscape. Herds of black-tailed deer, bobcats and cougars used to swarm through the valley's hemlock and Douglas fir; elk still wandered in hopeless confusion through the ashen desolation. The river and its source, Spirit Lake, once teemed with steelhead trout and Chinook salmon. All were destroyed by the eruption. TIME Correspondent Paul Witteman was one of the first journalists to see the area by helicopter after the blast. His report...
...Huey chopper, piloted by National Guard Captain Harold Ward, went up the south fork of the Toutle, which had turned into a caramel ribbon, toward the peak, still shrouded in clouds of steam and ash. The mocha-colored terrain appeared otherworldly, a madly undulating landscape. The trees looked as if they had been strewn across the foothills by a careless child. As we passed over Baker Camp, a logging base, we spotted a pickup truck, a dead child lying face upward in the back. Ward swung the Huey over a huge mudhole that had once been Spirit Lake, a body...
...blast had occurred 24 hours later, it could have wiped out a crew of some 200 Weyerhaeuser Co. loggers who were to begin felling trees at 7:30 a.m. Monday. Many of the loggers lived with their families near the north fork of the Toutle River. Logger George Fickett was at home when the mountain erupted. Said he: "I heard the goldangest noise, like someone upending a bunch of barrels down the road. There was a roar, like a jet plane approaching, and a lot of snapping and popping. Those were the trees. We got out fast...
...peacocks immobile on a divan--until, deciding in a characteristically inverted way that the daughter is "very un-ugly," he asks for her hand. His ecstatic dream of wolfing down a juicy salt-cod hangs suspended over his scenes in the form of a giant fish impaled on a fork; the puzzling monster pineapple that wanders back and forth upstage presumably reminds the audience mutely of Khlestakov's vegetative nature...