Love is All
When I arrived at my local watering hole today, I was thinking of ‘Love is All’ as a title for my book, and the owner and her 70-odd year-old mother were sitting where I usually sit. It is a biggish table and will easily seat eight friends, six people who don’t know each other, four people who don’t want to know each other or even two people who thoroughly dislike one another, but they got up and moved off. The mother was actually in a deck chair, so she picked that up to take with her.
I wanted to offer to carry it for her, but when I first got here ten years ago, I used to offer to help my wife’s mum with the heavy work, until she told Neem to tell me it was annoying that I thought she was too weak to do the job on her own.
Different cultures, different ideas, different interpretations, eh?
Piles of twelve-inch internal diameter concrete pipes have started appearing around the village, but no-one knows what they’re for. Sewerage? Drainage? Everyone has a septic tank, and we had underground roadside gutters put in last year. It is very odd.
I’m still struggling with a title for my Soviet spy story. I will probably have to go with:
LOVE IS ALL – She Didn’t Know She Had It In Her
I will pitch it to an agent tomorrow, so fingers crossed.
It takes so long for them to reply. Six to twelve weeks is not unusual and you can’t sell it yourself during that period, so four rejections could cost you a year’s sales. So, it is time to get the trusty Writers’ Yearbook out and start looking for an agent. So, stacks or research and a soupçon of luck are required now.
I’ll let you know how I get on, and in the meantime, I’m looking for ideas for my next book. Perhaps an historical novel or a futuristic story, I haven’t written either of those types yet.
All the best,
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Podcast: Love is All
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