Yes, I've been away for a while... well, not so much away as 'absent between the ears'... well, not so much absent as intent on other things. Yes. Intent On Other Things has a sort of professional ring to it that completely masks the truth - I have contracted a nasty case of edititis tunnelvisionus, but I'm getting better now.
That's right, sound slightly embarrassed bells and trumpets for the EDIT OF DOOM is now a thing of fearful legend. OK, so I've still got to type the bloody thing up*, but as of half past one today I am an edit-free zone. Thank Christ.
It also gives me something to celebrate, which is nice as the recent award season has left me with no excuses to dance any sort of jig and / or consume vast quantities of fizzy wine. Not only did I fail spectacularly to win the TOPCNoTY, I also managed to now win a Barry and a Derringer as well. Yes, by nefarious research on the interweb I see that DYING LIGHT lost out to Ken Bruen's PRIEST for the Best British Mystery Novel Barry, while DAPHNE MCANDREWS AND THE SMACK-HEAD JUNKIES was roundly trounced by Julie Hyzy's STRICTLY BUSINESS for the Best Longer Short Story Derringer. And as far as I know, I'm not up for anything else this year.
Still, as ever it's an honour to be nominated. Even if it doesn't come with a fancy plaque and novelty-sized cheque. And maybe some complimentary dancing girls**.
But the important thing is that I've finished the bastard edit, so let's keep our minds on that, in an effort to be a glass is half full kind of guy. After all, not only did poor DYING LIGHT have to suffer defeat in the Barry stakes, it also had a bit of fan mail all of it's own to deal with:
The opening pages of 'Dying Light' are a miasma of failure.
Relationships, attitudes, and emotions are all dismal.
What could _possibly make me want to continue reading?
Perhaps macbride is a 'misery loves companions' person.
His writing _certainly isn't for me.
I'm a 'cup half full'.
Aberdeen must _truly be a miserable place to live.
Yes, he's a 'cup half full' who likes to email people to tell them that he doesn't like their work, thereby spreading that 'misery loves company' thing around a bit. How sweet. Anyway, Mr Sociable was so convinced that I'd be delighted by his jolly take on the book, that he left me his email address.
Would anyone like to suggest a suitable response? ;}#
* 650 pages of densely scribbled red biro notes and alterations in a barely legible scrawl... no way that'll take me more than... what? A fortnight?
** Which are always the nicest kind. No one wants uncomplimentary dancing girls, do they?
Labels: Dying Light, ego, fan mail, Flesh House