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It has come to Our attention that Joe Lieberman is in fact the Senator from Connecticut, not Massachussets as previously listed here, which only serves to illustrate what a godawful mess the field is when you can't even tell the candidates apart WITH a scorecard. The Management regrets the error.
The event that the landlord rendered as 'change the pipes' appears, from the noises out in the street, to have been something to do with the water main, which makes a lot more sense than some of my more fevered imaginings, although god knows the pipes in this building could stand to be replaced, I'm getting very tired of hauling in bottled water and buying new showerheads every six months. In any event, I didn't notice any interruptions in our water service, although admittedly I keep peculiar hours and may have slept through it all. So, while my original rationale (that they have a bathroom) for fleeing to the beach for the duration may have been thwarted, nevertheless, I have managed to complete the current manuscript draft's Readthrough-For-Sense, despite the best efforts of my Mum to distract me all weekend with a too-loud tv (we need a bigger apartment...).
So, what I have to report is that, while admittedly I'm it's mother... this manuscript looks like a Book to me. I was deliberately trying to read straight through with a minimum of dithering over details, but truthfully, I didn't find all that much that needed to be dithered over still; I did some scribbling in the margins as I went, but overall we're dealing now in polishing the facets, not swapping great chunks of ideas in and out. Whether this is good or bad, I couldn't say...
I'm going to enter this round of margin-scribbling results into the manuscript, and then I shall make one more clean working-draft printout, to really go after with the nit-comb; and after that, I think I am almost at the point of getting my documents in order to send my baby off to its first day of school. Unless of course the nit-comb reveals that in fact it's riddled with plague. (I want it out of the house, really I do, I'm not dithering on that account, but as a first novel naturally I do want to be sure that its little face is well-scrubbed before it steps out the door...)
And I will stop for now, because I just inhaled a bug.
The event that the landlord rendered as 'change the pipes' appears, from the noises out in the street, to have been something to do with the water main, which makes a lot more sense than some of my more fevered imaginings, although god knows the pipes in this building could stand to be replaced, I'm getting very tired of hauling in bottled water and buying new showerheads every six months. In any event, I didn't notice any interruptions in our water service, although admittedly I keep peculiar hours and may have slept through it all. So, while my original rationale (that they have a bathroom) for fleeing to the beach for the duration may have been thwarted, nevertheless, I have managed to complete the current manuscript draft's Readthrough-For-Sense, despite the best efforts of my Mum to distract me all weekend with a too-loud tv (we need a bigger apartment...).
So, what I have to report is that, while admittedly I'm it's mother... this manuscript looks like a Book to me. I was deliberately trying to read straight through with a minimum of dithering over details, but truthfully, I didn't find all that much that needed to be dithered over still; I did some scribbling in the margins as I went, but overall we're dealing now in polishing the facets, not swapping great chunks of ideas in and out. Whether this is good or bad, I couldn't say...
I'm going to enter this round of margin-scribbling results into the manuscript, and then I shall make one more clean working-draft printout, to really go after with the nit-comb; and after that, I think I am almost at the point of getting my documents in order to send my baby off to its first day of school. Unless of course the nit-comb reveals that in fact it's riddled with plague. (I want it out of the house, really I do, I'm not dithering on that account, but as a first novel naturally I do want to be sure that its little face is well-scrubbed before it steps out the door...)
And I will stop for now, because I just inhaled a bug.