Old-Fashioned Fruitcake
Yes! I have reached that seldom-sought-after mark of distinction as a writer: I’ve been banned for something I wrote.
Admittedly, I’ve only been banned from posting in the main forums on a craft site, so I’m not exactly hiding in a damp basement huddled over a Gestetner while the Powers That Be burn my book in the streets. On which note: Restoration Day is print-on-demand – no fixed print run – so feel free to order and burn as many copies as you like. (Also make great Christmas presents!)
One of the benefits of a semi-nomadic childhood is a great deal of expertise in packing. Unlike my time-management, which tends to be illustrative of Parkinson’s Law, my packing is extremely effective.
Sometimes too effective.
“I howled unto the Lord,” the orator bawled angrily. “That’s what I done. I howled unto the Lord…. and the Lord said unto me: ‘What’s biting you, Perce?’ And I answered and said: ‘Me sins lie bitter in me belly,’ I says, ‘I’ve backslid,’ I says, ‘and the grade’s too hot for me.’ And the Lord said: ‘Give it another pop, Perce.’ And I give it another pop and the Lord backed me up and I’m saved.”
