Book Number The Fifth still doesn't have a name*, but at least it's not lounging about the house any more, eating everything in the fridge, never picking up its socks, leaving the top off the toothpaste, and drinking all the booze. For today BNTF went off to live with it's aunties in London for a while.
Knowing my luck we'll just have got the stains out of the carpet and it'll be back again with a bin-liner full of dirty washing, and every sentence will begin with, "When I was in London, Aunt Sarah let me [insert unlikely scenario here, probably featuring hard liquor, tattoos, and potato scones]..."
And I'll be all, like, "Get a haircut, you lazy book!"
And it'll totally freak. "I hate you! I wish I was never written!"
And I'll be, like, "What-ev-er. Go to your room. And don't leave your jacket lying on the floor: this isn't a hotel."
Oh, I know it'll probably mature a little during the second draft, but right now it's all spots and surly attitude. Why can't it be like its big brother COLD GRANITE? Not only has Book Number The First moved out and got its own place, it even sends money home from time to time.
And while it will probably run off with some floozy librarian and refuse to look after She Who Must Be Placed In A Secure Residential Facility Where They Won't Give Her Access To Knives Or Short People and I in our dotage, we can take pride in the fact it won a school prize when it was little and isn't still hanging around making the place look untidy.
* So far it's known as either, 'Hey, you!', 'Book Number The Fifth', or 'BLIND [insert word here]'... That may well be why it has behavioural difficulties.
Labels: Book Number The Fifth