In the morning I go boldly to my various places, and as a rule I come away depressed. Completely understand that good news fails to impress the reading public, who I have to say have the admirable quality of being a very tight fisted bunch. So I've decided that along with 'self interviewing' I will conduct a 'self review' of those works of mine that sit on imaginary shelves waiting to be perused. I will have two characters. One who is in favor of my work. The other a bounder and a cad whose opinion, while probably accurate, is shall we say 'not in my corner.' All that remains are names for these characters.
I thought Claudette Pewdesduckle, had a nice ring to it. I think of her as
someone who is very well educated in the European tradition of something like
1922. She understands Proust, she's dabbled with the occult. She's a tall,
Germanic whist player who is prone to accusing her opponents of cheating. She is
more Aunt than she is mother. Her one boy child is called Andy who is a
flamboyant participant in Gay Pride Parades and a Dance Instructor. The love of
her life is a very bad tempered Toy Poodle. Her current husband is a good
looking accessory from Finland. And I think I'd like to have her in my corner.
The other reviewer, is an angry drunk from Boston. What he looks like I'm not
yet certain. His name is Ogden something. But more later...