Homestretch

I have exactly one week left to submit my stories to the printers. I am way short of my fundraising target but I have hope. The greatest task ahead of me is the hardest part of writing – rewriting, crafting the stories.

Like the Meatloaf classic says, “Some days it don’t come easy, and some days it don’t come hard. Some days it don’t come at all and these are the days that never end”. Except these days are the days that end too quickly for me.

My contemplative playlist is almost finished and I still have roughly six hours of writing facing me tonight. I have moved my work desk into my bedroom so that I can rest my back every hour or so - I gots to keep it strong for...well.

I have modified the design of the cover according to suggestions made by a reader of this blog, and who apparently saw my semi-corpulent ass on television on Sunday night since he saw fit to comment on it. As much as I really do treasure being quiet in my corner for the most part, all this publicity shit comes with the territory.

You can expect to see more of me on television, in the press, and on radio, being all arrogant and self-important, and according to one friend, looking a bit like LFS Burnham. For the next month or two, its emergence time for me, public limelight and all that, and as much as I loathe it mostly, I have to admit that part of me likes it just an incey wincey teeny little bit.

I get to be the fucking bad-boy, the enfant terrible, of Guyanese writing all over again. Six, eight years on and I am rediscovering that I still have that fucking fire in my belly, that I have a belief and a dream that I am still willing to fight for and piss people off at my pronouncements.

Ladies and gentlemen, Ariadne received some periphery attacks from the lunatic fringe but there was nothing that they seemed to be able to sink their teeth into. Fictions is much more meaty and I have some other projects in train to raise fucking hell. My blood is up, testosterone is coursing through my nuts, and I am getting ready to kick ass in the morning and take names in the evening.

This is going to be fucking sweet.