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So, I was waiting in fear/trepidation/sense of needing to finish Room 702 and also hoping the notes arrived sooner rather than later.  With Hubs away from Wednesday � Tuesday, even though they weren’t due, I knew the days would be a great opportunity to get a jump on the final edit.  Imagine my elation when the manuscript showed up edited in my inbox this afternoon.  With a deep breath I opened the file and was happy to read the following comment:

“Overall, an engaging narrative, one that I feel needs only a small amount of work to make for a sharper read. You offer an excellent narrative, one that is original and skilful.�

Maybe it’s a ploy, although additional comments like, “I have THOROUGHLY enjoyed reading this submission� lead me to believe otherwise.  Anyway, as I work through the final draft, I’m in a positive mood.  Who knows?  I might even be able to publish this thing next month!  When all is said and done, I’ll give a more thorough commentary about if I feel paying for an editor truly enhanced the final product.

Being a self-published author sometimes has big perks.  While I know many traditionally published authors are awesome and regularly interact with their fanbase, from those I’ve contacted I’ve never had a response.  Cut to, little old me.  A year ago In late 2011, a young woman contacted me to see if I could give her any advice about publishing a book about marching band.  Delighted, I instantly responded.  We corresponded throughout 2012 and she would give me updates to the process.  Imagine my elation when she e-mailed me today to announce the book was finished and available for purchase on Lulu!

While I was only a very small part of her journey as an author, I have some pride in knowing I still had something to do with it.

So, today, I celebrate Kaitlyn Auer and her first book, .  All the best, Katy!

Art by Quentin Blake.

I think reading is imperative to writing.  I feel quite fortunate to have fallen in love with the activity so young.  When I saw these images as a photoset, the photos triggered happy memories in me.  Put some glasses on the girl above and you’d be looking at me.  (No, my parents were awesome and no, I could not move things with my mind).  Still, the thought of being whisked away to some place new always (and still does) appealed to me.

Going somewhere ‘new� was a great place of escape for me this weekend.  I needed somewhere I hadn’t been before and short of getting on a plane and away from Doha the thought crossed my mind a new book ended up being the perfect balm.

In short, yay books!

Words by Roald Dahl.  I still have no idea what Bovril is.