Well, the verdict's in, there are some slight concerns, but overall the agent is happy with how it's panning out. Now I need some hunkering down time to get the final draft nailed and sealed. I am looking forward to it. But WHEN? I could get an early morning habit going, but there's too much happening at the moment for that to be wise. If I give myself the deadline of Christmas, that will give me one half term after we've moved house to get it done.
Writing workshop last night. I didn't read but drank rather a lot, belched a bit and pinched most of the cheesy crisps which happened to be in front of me. The standard is so high now. A pleasure to listen to, but I have to really be confident about something to consider reading, even amongst such good friends.
Today's Times has another one of those why writers write pieces in today, which I, personally, can never get enough of. I spotted it in the hairdresser's - you won't hear me say that more than once a year. However, I think I have found somebody I like, at last, after all these years of self-snipping and miserable one-off forays. She was nattering away to the bloke before me and I sat in the reception bit quivering with dentist-like dreads of natter coming up. I don't mean my dentist fires off questions about my work and my holidays but, you know, the same horrid waiting room dread feelings. I started to plan. When the inevitable question comes, do I say I'm a writer? Or a journalist? Or a scouring pad advisor? Or what? But not only could she cut, she had instinct & knew I wasn't up for the blab. Hooray. I Have a Hairdresser.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.