I’ve had another near miss from a publisher, with a very sensible suggestion for a re-write of a manuscript (that has already had a re-write) in order to make it a stand alone book. And to make it fatter (my words – I know I need to make my characters metaphorically fat). I can see this re-write in my head, can see how the story would swell and take on contours that would just have to make it better. I can even see when I’ll do it – at the end of the year, after I’ve finished another draft of the PhD novel.
At the end of the year?
Another six months, another huge block of time to pass full of other things until I can concentrate on this task. I’m getting sick of this, the constant wondering where time goes and where to steal it from and even where to buy it. So I’m going to get one of those twisty time travel necklaces that Hermione Granger uses to attend more classes than she has to. Maybe there’s one in a duty-free somewhere in my travels with M next week. Perhaps in a little village some distance from Rome a strange old man wearing a belted hay sack will lean forward with a glittering gold time twisty in his hands and say, ‘You need this. For you, no euro involved’ and I’ll take it and be master of my own universe.
Hmmm…I think I’ve been reading too much Libba Bray.