The Three Little Pigs in Santo Domingo
I've started editing
A Fly On The Wall. Some of the characters weren't named until later so one of the first things to do was replace the placeholders with the names. It gave me a sense of accomplishment.
The first pass is for fixing obvious errors so I tend not to worry too much about Big Things Needing Fixing, but I've already spotted a glorious mess-up. I compromised by making a note of it to be dealt with later.
Reading took a back seat this past week. I have no reason, it just happened. The days may be getting longer, but they are also going faster.
I'm still reading
All Quiet on the Western Front (by
Erich Maria Remarque, First Ballantine Books
edition 1982). It's compelling, it's stirring, and it's grabbed my innards and will not let go.
Here's a bit:
"We bayonet the others before they have time to get out their bombs. Then thirstily we drink the water they have for cooling the gun."
This is my contribution to the cause this week from
A Fly on the Wall. It's close enough to St. Patrick's Day that I thought I should include a selection involving a leprechaun.
"Parsley Wornstaff had not thought his life was going to turn out this way. He was a careful fellow and minded his own business most of the time. In all the hundreds of years of sitting at the end of the rainbow on a desolate hill in Old NewBridge-Barrowsmith he never thought anyone would actually catch him."
Thanks for reading me.
For more or to get in on the fun please see the
Women of Mystery.
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If you're wondering, the photo has nothing to do with the body of this post.
