In some senses at least, but for real in terms of my Sheffield Wednesday who didn't manage an escape they didn't deserve...
I've been reading Mythago Wood's sequel Avilion which is lovely. Haunting and sad, but in this way affecting. And inspiring for that matter. Although some concepts are hard to follow for someone like me, brought up on the american-influenced fiction of ramming a point down your throat until it becomes comepletely obvious, the writing allows it to almost seep into you. A trickle of brooks perhaps, or of sap and dew...
No electronic words as yet from the library agency I wrote to last week, but I will wait, but not idly. Tomorrow I plan to sign up to an agency and set the inevitable ball-bearing roll towards temporary work.
I couldn't let the response to my last post pass however, and have to say that it's lovely to feel so wanted. I was hoping for work offers...but I'll take what I can...
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