I have a public reading tonight for HOUSE ON CLARK BOULEVARD. At the Ontario, Oregon lye-berry. Or ‘library’ for those that like ole-timey spelling.
So, this week’s episode of The Durrels of Corfu had the eldest son’s book being published. And his family didn’t give two shits in a barrel that he’d managed to both WRITE A BOOK AND GET IT PUBLISHED.
So, his mother, to make up for her own indifference and so forth, arranges a
for this literary newbie.
Larry and his family show up and one old man. And…no one else. The sister drags someone in off the streets but it’s no good. It’s a fiasco.
Oh Masterpiece Theatre, must ye show me the face of my worst fears? With British accents?! Come on!!
UPDATE. THE NEXT DAY. HI.
Well. I’m glad I did it. I feel, and I know ‘feel’ is a word right up there with the C word and the F word but…I feel truly rhino-skinned now and more than capable of facing an indifferent public who are indifferent to my efforts.
Rhino-skinned. That is my new pet name. Masterpiece Theatre, you fucking bastards. You couldn’t show that episode next week?? I take no responsibility whatsoever that I sat and watched it. None. I’m oddly very Republican right now. Bwha ha ha.