He's reading my novel.
I wanted him to. I asked him to.
It's freshly printed and neatly hole-punched. It sits like homework in its brand new folder. All the latest edits are in place.
The pages are crisp and clean and as-yet unscribbled on. I'm ridiculously aware of their slow slide, their rustle.
I can't be in the same room as him. I'll start watching his face - I might not be able to stop myself from asking.
And so I hover nearby, making coffee, And then more coffee. I pretend to think about the book I'm reading and the other writing I have planned. But -
He has been reading for almost two hours.
Eventually I go up to our bedroom. I rummage through the heaving shelves there and then lie on top of the covers and turn pages determinedly.
I try not to picture him doing exactly the same downstairs.
11 comments:
Oh torture. But, it will be well worth it I expect.
I know EXACTLY what you mean!
You're both so lovely and sympathetic. Of course I deserve none. I don't think it's very easy being married to me (-:
so, what did he think...?
Eeee-heee. There's the killer question, Annie.
And it did kill me. Though whether in a good way or bad, I'm not saying (yet)
xx
My stepfather fell asleep reading the first draft of my novel. I wouldn't mind except his an old film editor so knows about pace and stuff. Apparently my 'stuff' wasn't up to much so I'm trying again.
Feedback from nearest and dearest is the hardest. I want the world to read my books but I still die a hundred times when family look! I hope it killed you in a good way. :)
Ooh - brave. Mine has no interest whatsoever in reading (he like boy books). Hope the man from del monte says 'yes'.
Thank you ladies. It's productive in the long run, but short-term probably terrible for the blood pressure
(also I get to criticise his artwork without knowing what I'm talking about at all)
xxx
ps Fia - that bad stepfather!! Next time - a bucket of cold water, I reckon
obsevvive? heh! I tagged you.
Thank you Rachel!!
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