14 December 2009

We buried Mum in a green-burial meadow which, once sown with trees, will one day become a forest.  They let us choose which species was planted on her grave.  Dad chose a hazel because nightingales nest in them and the nuts will attract squirrels.

So, her work complete and legend secure, Mum’s departed into memory and myth, leaving the family to find its way without her.  Dad holds the fort, Ruth tussles with two demanding small people, and I enter my third and final winter of writing.
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The first seven chapters are 100 per cent complete.  Chapter eight needs some feedback incorporated.  I’m fielding feedback on chapters nine and 10 now.

I’ve drawn up my pitch documentation.  Once the product development is wrapped up I plan to concentrate on trying to persuade agents to help me.  I’ll start by pitching to the ones who contacted me in response to this website.  As that sales process gears up, I hope to find time to start shouting about it.

Job on.