The other morning I made the happy discovery that my iPod plugs directly into my new car. Dude! I was happy, back when I bought my second car, that it had a tape player. (My first car had only a radio station — an AM-only radio station, at that.) This is so much better.
Then I got to work, and had to make a booking for a young man to bank some sperm. He was starting chemotherapy that afternoon. He's all of nineteen.
Some days, the contrast is more extreme than others.
I've been doing what I do best, lately, namely burying myself in work. In this particular instance, it's novel revisions. I might, if I didn't know my beta readers were lovely (and geographically dispersed) people, I just might suspect them of ganging up with a plot to drive me batshit insane by contradicting each other at every turn. What? How did that happen? You never set that up, one cries, as another points out Yeah. I saw that coming ages ago.1 I have actually finished all the heavy-lifting of the revision; now I have only to flick back and do spot-changes here and there.
And then — because Tess and Leigh may well lynch me if I don't — it's on to writing the sequel.
- Reactions are paraphrased, naturally. Because exact examples require context. My brain has all the genius of stewed prunes these days; context is too difficult. [↩]