I’ve spent the morning pacing around the house, manuscript
in hand, growling (I have a sore throat) the poems aloud. I’ve finished the
final poem about the Gloucester Sea Gladiators and polished some of the others.
Even my hairdresser, Juliet got in on the act earlier. The
manuscript went with me to the hairdressers first thing so she could see
the cover – Bill Lazell’s wonderful photograph. Before I could blink the
manageress had taken the whole thing out of my hands and was reading aloud one
of the poems about Taid being bombed in Grand Harbour. “This has given me goose
bumps,” she said and wants a copy of the book. I suppose this is known as
marketing although I did explain it isn’t finished.
So I’ve sent it off in the ether to a critical reader.
What do I do now…..?
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