I just spent the weekend in Paderborn.
The band I write lyrics for held a listening session at the studio where they recorded their CD.
The press were invited and certain close friends of the band. Drinks and food were laid on and all in all it was a very nice day.
The evening was taken up by a gig, which entailed lots of free beer, loud music and slurred speach, lol.
I spent the night at my mate's Irish pub, Limerick's in Paderborn; more free booze, loud music and slurred speach. I've turned into such a freeloading lush... I hate myself, I really do. :-)
The CD has turned out spectacularly well and I'm very proud to be associated with it, very proud indeed. The band won't be playing Top of the Pops in the near future, but they will enjoy a measure of success with it that I could only dream about when I was beating the skins in a band… all those many years ago, lol.
Then, today, I did the unthinkable.
I phoned up the publishers and asked them if they actually send rejections out or if there's some kind of time limit as to when I should consider my manuscript unwanted.
Well, the lady on the other end was very nice and told me that they haven't actually started reading the December manuscripts.
So basically I'll just have to wait. Fair one.
They must really read everything, which is a good sign in itself, thinketh I.
Mmmm, I seem to be reading portends and promises into everything nowadays.
You know what? I think I'll pop out to slay a goat and check its innards for any more signs and augurs…
Have a good one.