Oh my God, whaddya mean 30th June was last Tuesday? Crikey, now we're for it! Quick, dash off an email...
"Dear Overworked Commissioning Editor Somewhere in England's Green and Leafy Intellectual Heartland, I do hope you are well, and that you are on holiday at your retreat in Normandy, your copy-ed is on emergency maternity leave and/or the typesetters are on strike (delete as appropriate)... rewriting, blah, blah, blah... improvements... new ideas, blah, blah... bestseller... extension... grovelling... grateful... relieved..."
As Douglas Adams wrote, "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." And now come to think of it there has been a strange noise, like the beating of angel's wings, every time I walk past the study with an armful of plastic robots/craft materials/ironing/cats/buckshee nappies/empty ice lolly makers...
Better get on and finish The Book.
And while I'm doing that...why don't you check out The Raisin Chronicles. All I can say is "Sweden's Got Talent"...
7 comments:
Get on with it slacker!
I find that your weather reporting is vey interesting so please don't stop. It is very hot here at the moment with temperatures up to 30oC, but as usual its going to break up into violent thunder storms leading to flash flooding. The lower temperatures forecast for the weekend will be much welcomed by me with all the hard graft having to be done on the new house.
Just do a book based on your blog plus some of the lovely photos. Would be great.
Ciao bella, insomniac tonite, so thought I'd drop by. Don't stress on deadlines. There's only one deadline in life, and getting published posthumously is a surefire bestseller.
Nobody ever expects editors actually to meet the deadlines set for them! We all know that...
Ah - The Book! Nearly as daunting as The Deadline!
Yep - the Swedes sure have talent... we saw this number live on TV a while back... it's hilarious!
Oh - the things you can do with Swedish crispbread! ;-)
Louise, thanks for visiting me. You are living the good life, I see, in my Italy. If I could force my children to all follow me, I'd live six months a year there.
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