Missing Jumper, Healing Laptop |
Then I received a spectactularly nice letter from a publisher. I'd sent them some chapters of my book Soul Mates I: The Path To Destruction about two months ago. I hadn't heard anything back from them and so I assumed it was another no. Well, it was a no but it was a positive one. The lady said she totally agreed with me that there was a big market for such a story, she said she thought the story was good, that it was well-paced and she enjoyed it. Unfortunately the book was too big for their company because they only have about five books a year. My book too big a challenge! I was quite impressed with that. It was a no and I don't like the endless rejection letters you get - you know the deal: publisher's won't read your work unless you have an agent, an agent won't read your work unless you have a publisher - but it was very inspiring all the same. It really did make me smile. A lot.
And just last night I found out that my laptop wasn't quite as dead as I first thought. Yes, it is clearly not as good as it once was, but it may not be yet dying so quickly. Turns out the battery is upsetting it. So all I need is a new battery. What with Christmas round the corner I am quietly confident my baby will be back in full working order by January. Until then I've taken the battery out and am using it totally on mains power.
All this smiling really did cheer me up. Because yesterday I went back to see the doctor and she said that there is absolutely no reason why a girl my age, as a non-smoker, I should still have this chest infection. And she said if this new course of medicine doesn't work she's going to send me for chest x-rays! And a visit to the Asthma Clinic. I'm a little scared by the x-ray possibility, especially considering last time I was anywhere near a hospital I ended up moving in.
The only bad thing to have happened this morning actually is that my parents' male dog pissed on my bed! Thankfully, it wasn't all over the quilt (I have no idea how I'd have cleaned that up); he aimed it on the knitted blanket my Gran made. Even more annoying than that was my father's reaction: that it was my fault. I'm tempted to go and piss on my father's bed and see how he likes it...
Labels: dogs, family, illness, laptop, writing
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