Well, evening again folks. I am still frantically editing Eating Blackbirds and there is little else to report, apart from my bottom has now gone square from all the sitting and my new glasses have worn a hole in my nose.
It is said that every cloud has a silver lining and a recent cloud is that my mum has had an operation that now requires a lot of sitting down and recouperating. The silver lining is that she is not able to do anything else except sit and read - and therefore, I might as well take full advantage of the situation knowing that if I plonk a manuscript into her hands, she can not run away.
So, I have emailed my wonderful mum the first third of the edited draft and have asked for her opinions. It is quite a horrifying thing to have to do, in that I don't think a mother should ever need to know that her daughter swears, knows about shagging and has written anything frivalous about being sick on cars. So, it is with a great deal of intrepidation that I await for her comments; God only knows what she'll think about my grammar...
More tea vicar?
2 comments:
I'm really glad you did not chop that bloke's arm off - I was getting a bit worried when I realised I was getting near that bit!
I don't know how you do it - inventing all those swear words!
Let me know when book number 3 is nearing completion and I will save up my next operation in readiness for a few more weeks of sitting still.
xxx Mum
Dad taught me the swear words...
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