Sunday, March 11, 2018
this isn't a book, it's a cake...
When I got off the train from being with my grand daughter, this was waiting for mw at home.
It's not a book. It's a cake. Someone from the publisher's publicity department thought it would be a good idea to send one to all the authors whose essays are published in the anthology.
Someone's put a lot of work into it, I imagine, and i couldn't deal with it somehow.
The contrast between it and the loving messy world I had just left behind, and the contrast between it and the somewhat fraught creative messy world I now inhabit as I try to get a play finished in time for its deadline...
It's all a bit too much for me.
And I don't understand what it's for. All that time and skill and money...
I must stop worrying about it. That's obvious.
And tomorrow when a dear friend comes round, we'll just eat it.
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