Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

MFD is 95%...

I just did a once-over and found some typos and inconsistencies, but overall it works. I think the reason the ending comes across as glib is I'm rushing the telling of it, so I'm going to let it breathe a bit more. I thought about cutting back one more character, but then I'd have to rework the ending and I don't feel the honest need to do that.

I've got a company in Toronto that has expressed interest. I'm to send it to them this weekend, once I've input the corrections. That's surprising, because I mentioned it's set in London...but the fact is, they could shoot a good portion of it in Canada and just the necessary bits in the UK. Or maybe they have a deal with a British production company. I dunno. I'm just glad they didn't ignore me.

I was reminded this morning about how ludicrous it is to drive in NYC unless you absolutely have to. These people are the worst when it comes to double-parking. Or delivery trucks stopping on a one-way street with one lane of traffic to drop off one box, backing traffic behind them till they get damn good and ready to go. It's insane.

But I am seeing parts of the city I've never been to, before. Like this morning, I passed Grant's Tomb. It's an amazingly lovely area, too, along that stretch of Riverside Drive. And headed back to the hotel along Clayton Powell Thomas Boulevard, I saw a church spire that's like a combination of Gothic and Gaudi. For a Baptist Church! I never knew Baptists to be that ostentations. Obnoxious, maybe, and too damn sure they know it all when it comes to God, but filigree? Don't think so.

Of course, only some of my family was Baptist -- like my Aunt Elsie and her husband. The rest of us were Presbyterians...which makes sense, considering that side of the family has Scottish roots (or Dutch; apparently that depends on how the name Clark was spelled when they got to America -- with an "e" or without).

I will say, my Aunt Elsie was the sweetest woman who ever lived. I never saw her cross, and she was always very appreciative of everything she got. When I lived with my grandmother (who was her older sister), we'd invite her over for Mexican food -- homemade enchiladas, Rice-a-roni Spanish rice, and refried beans from a can, with buckets of iced tea (unsweetened but with lemon and sugar available). Man, she loved how I made "enchi-lallies." And we usually sent her home with a plate to heat up, later. She lived almost till she was 90, probably because she was so sweet.

Hmph, then by that measure, I should have died twenty years ago.

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