So my know-it-all brother-in-law, KIABIL for short, has written his first novella. Or at least, the first one that he's ready to share.
And for a first showing, I suppose, it is pretty good. The dude has a year of writing things under his belt. Meanwhile, I'm headed for year six of writing and nobody in my family wants to look at a single page of anything I produce.
Bitter? Of fucking course I am.
But now I'm obligated to read his. So I got my revenge by sending him mine. Haha sucker, now you have to read 120K of Victorian-era style bibbling.
This in a day when I'm also cleaning the house, and doing all the other writing stuff.
I didn't get any arting done, yesterday. More's the pity. I'd have liked to get another frame done.
But that's what waiting for Chaos' bus is for.
Dinner tonight promises to be quick and easy. Riceless kedgeree in the big frypan. Painless. Easy. About the only snag promises to be the ricing of the cauliflower, but I can seriously deal. I can even dice any other veggies I choose to add. If I want.
But for now - I get on with my life.