I made it.
I handed my piece in at 4:00, but some paragraphs are still driving me nuts. It's 2:30am and I'm crossing out lines and trying again, but the thing with writing is the same thing with wounds: aint no amount of rushing gonna heal that wrong. Sometimes you just gotta let it sit. So I will.
That said, if you want to read it drop me an email (acs3@ualberta.ca) and I'll send it to you, though I feel the need to warn you that you may not like me when you're done.
Seriously.
I have a compulsion to confess my sins. The big ones. It would be easier if I were Catholic.
But don't be afraid to ask to read it. I can use all the absolution I can get. Unless, of course, you're mean. Don't ask me to send it to you if you're mean.
Holy smokes.
Someone has got to go to bed.
Good night, dear hearts.
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4 comments:
Whew. You made it. Hope your head found the bed!
Looking forward to receiving a copy. Also, I can truly understand Old Robbie 'addressing' the haggis, I'd rather speak to one than eat one most days, and his b'day is a 'bad dining' day in the Auld Sod:)
I nearly forgot I have to email you. Yes, yes, yes please. I'll read anything you write! (And the spider is one of the bigger huntsman spiders I've seen, but better on the wall in the dark discovered by someone else than on the inside of the windscreen of my car as often happens in this part of the world... yikes... I think Frank released this one near the car. I'd better be watching out!)
Is this offer still up for grabs? Me, me. Send it to me. Please.
Shan
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