Feet Up

Half an hour beside the pool in Cadaques, my pedicure from last week still holding up and making a shot of my feet more or less blippable, stealing a page from Dd's repertoire.

I had to retreat to the shade for more editing work, after the busy week I've had on non-book matters. In just over four hours, I managed to create over two thousand words of dialogue, dramatising the raw descriptive material submitted by one of the contributing authors so that there is a chance the reader might stay with us beyond the first couple of sentences. One of the things I am having to deal with is that of the figure of the expert, all-knowing coach, who like the best of forensic sleuths, diagnoses the causes of his patient's downfall and, masterfully, administers incredibly resuscitative cures. Really, is this coaching?, I ask myself and set to with my editing scissors! Fortunately, I really love doing it!