Before dawn I finally got around to incorporating a friend’s critique into a manuscript she’d read a few weeks ago. I’d scrawled various changes in ink as time allowed, so it was largely just a matter of typing those in and playing around with them.
I like the results. Even better, six-year-old S likes them, and he can be prickly. I know that editors aren’t supposed to care whether our offspring like our work, and that our queries aren’t supposed to mention how a manuscript went over with the folks at home. But after a recent stretch of S seeming totally disinterested in ol’ Dad reading him anything, it tickled me no end that he wanted repeat readings of my new story.
The French toast I made him this morning should not be construed as a bribe.