Once again regretting that my Southern ancestors passed down to me demands for (a.) superhero-level hyper-modesty and (b.) never asking anybody for anything because a person (oneself, in fact) might subtly or openly (or even parenthetically) bother another human being or sentient entity (anybody, anywhere, on this planet or any distant planet known or unknown, not forgetting the various realms of the dead) somehow or other... So I need to somehow trip over, back into, pierce my Achilles's heel on the point that
here's the latest update on my
Glimmerglass page, which you just might (please excuse the intrusion) find compelling, an idea that I could possibly see as a tad, a smidgen, or a skosh workable if I could just get over six or seven minor (minor, minor, positively morselish, mere jotishness, certainly nothing to downright
boast about) personal flaws because the book is, after all, despite my most self-effacing effacings, in pre-order and coming out immodestly soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.