I got an email last night from one of the editors of Butcher Shop Quartet. My story, novella, novelette, whatever-you-wanna-call-it, is now definitely short shortlisted. My story, says Boyd, is stupendous, a real thinking man's story. He loves it. But....
(Now why did the But have to come along and spoil the show?)
But there's one sticking point: he can't envisage Kasper Clark's deformity, the whole mouth in the forehead business isn't quite gelling for him. And I can't say I blame him. I hadn't properly envisaged it myself, so what chance the reader? So this morning, with a heavy sigh and a profound sense of deja vu, I plunged into 'Kasper Clark' again. And d'you know what? I think I've nailed it! I started to think about the physical attributes such a mouth would have to have, the muscle and bone structure, pictured lips like a sphincter and bang! 'Kasper Clark' is another 1000 words longer and, I feel, finished. No really, it's finished. I know I've said that before, twice at least. But this time it is definitely finished. Well, apart from a few line edits it's finished...
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