Saturday, 17 May 2014

Testing, testing.

On my husband, who I don't usually bother, but I think this is done.
Spent much of yesterday refining the final third, careless of word count, knowing I could tighten it. Went to bed knowing, after two attempts, the final conversation wasn't what I wanted.  Still wasn't this morning, at 7 a.m. after another couple of hours (to be fair I was re-reading the whole so as to keep the flow).
Halfway up the road for the paper, a phrase.  The perfect phrase.
And bingo.
So.  I think it's more or less done.
Now I have to strike that balance between sending it off too soon and spotting glaring inconsistencies or giving it a daily fiddle.
But in the meantime, I'll let my husband read it.   Before or after the Cup Final which, he tells me, is more important.
I know my place.

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