Four ago. It has been four years, to the day, since I finished writing the first draft of my first novel. And I haven't done nearly enough with it. Oh a number people have seen it and had some encouraging words about it. But I've yet to send any of it to an editor.
A good question to ask is...What the bleep am I waiting for? Because I know, that it is good enough to be published. And it will be published...I just hope it isn't me who publishes it...not my first...oh please not my first.
Well...that was nice to have a good start to one of my non-poetry Tales From October entries. This is my...weakest blog. This son is kind of a diappointment. Oh...like me. Hmm...
Four years!!!! Would you wait four years to send off your first novel to an editor? Not that you are going to comment. Nope, you're just passing through, qickly, my words fail to inspire comment.
Well, four years is a long time, and I may one day take myself out behind the woodshed and tan my arse for it, but...not today, Fortunate has a birthday, and that will keep me occupied all day. LOL
Later dear readers.
Charles Petrie
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