The end of the first draft is a mere weekend's writing away - unfortunately not next weekend as I am busy with guests and fings. Nonetheless a weekend and maybe, possibly, perhaps, it will be finished in the intervening days.
Today is Amy's birthday. Four years old! Happy Birthday, Amy.
(St. George's day, Shakespeare's birthday - and the day he died, but let's not dwell on that.)
'You know how Perry's always using hundred-dollar words he doesn't half know the meaning of?' Truman Capote, In Cold Blood.
5 comments:
As you know, Davy-boy, I went to university, where I learnt loads about Our Lord, Sir William Shakespeare, and met you: two auspicious events. Despite my varsitorial Elizabethan literary erudition, I never knew that he was born and died the same day. I do know that some alleged scholars–-the sort who'd believe in Grassy Knoll's and other conspiracy theories--claim that one man couldn't have written such an immense body of work and, now that you've told me he lived for no more than 24 hours, I can understand their suspicions. Maybe you've badly explained this or I have got the wrong end of the stick.
And, by the way, if my imminent arrival on the shores of Anglia means that it is I who is he what delays your publication, or at least the finishing of the final draft, let me say sorry and ask if this affects your promise to invite me to the Booker prize ceremony?
à bientôt, mon pôte,Stuart
Congrats on almost finishing your draft. Have fun with your guests and 'fings'.
And Happy Birthday Amy. Four is a stuendous age:-)
Cul! Stuart, if Shakespeare lived for 24 hours he would not have died on the same day. Like Amy, he lived to see his fourth birthday and, like Amy, completed all his plays wot he wrote by then.
Four is the jelly age of youth Lane:)
I would like it noted that I am in no way responsible for David's lack of writing output this weekend.
"Blame it on the sunshine,
Blame it on the white wine,
Blame it on the good time,
Blame it on the hoody! (-:
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