52and40/7 Revise, Run, Roll Again

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Dear Sixty Year Old Me,

Saturday was that day of sliding down a long snake after a clear climb on a few recent ladders.

You felt low afterwards. Low and relieved.  Relieved because I wasn’t chosen to read out.  Two hours after emailing the intro to my submission to the novel writing workshop I could see holes in it, after all.  Huge holes.

Leerdammer through a telescope holes.

Here, forty eight hours later, I dare say I’ll stand up for attempt 654 of trying to birth this goddamn story.

Say you’re laughing?

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What am I on about with #52and40?  Find out here.

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