Well, my dears – you may have spotted that whereas I used to blog every day like clockwork, since I moved I am not doing so. This is not just because of Sorting Everything Out, it is because I have decided to blog only when I have something I really waant to say. Hence the stuff about Mark last week. This is still going on, of course, but since I have nothing really new to say about it I have not blogged any more. I’m sure I will come back to it, but at the moment things are sluggishly moving on and slowly digesting so there’s nothing new to report.
But! in other news, I have had an acceptance! This is the thing I wrote about twenty years ago which has been sent back, redacted, resubmitted, sent back again, buried in soft peat, reconfigured, cut, pasted, cut, cut and cut again – and submitted once more with the swearing of an oath that if they didn’t accept it THIS time it would be burnt. (And burning a pen-drive is not pretty, let me tell you that.)
But they accepted it, thank god – although they’re going to do a little pruning of their own because apparently readers can’t cope with quotes of more than a line and a half from the original text (FFS) and so it will be appearing on the Thresholds blog at some point in the near future. Thresholds is a group of writers who focus exclusively on the short story, and my piece was about a collection of stories entitled ‘Ideas above our Station’, of which, by the time I’d finished, I was heartily sick, as was the library of my continually renewing and re-requesting it.
And that’s all the news that’s fit to print – except that I found out that some of the original limericks (ie pre-dating Edward Lear) were utterly disgusting. No, I’m not going to reproduce them. I couldn’t possibly…
PS Oh, and all our furniture has now gone – to a lovely and very appreciative couple who might be interested in buying our old house. How weird would that be?