Sunday, 16 October 2011

The Missing Copy

Last night at the Other Writers' Workshop at Shakespeare and Co. only 10 people showed, few compared to the 20+ from last week.  It was the first time I've shared a story so was terribly nervous while reading mine but received overwhelming appreciation and excellent critiques on what to cut out or change.  Bruce told me my voice was amazing, all the others agreed, big smile but pronouns are lacking, yeah.  Kate, a poet visiting from London, said that quoting lyrics can be expensive, so I've removed that line from the Rolling Stones.

The MC is named Kad in the General's Demise— the story I shared. I liked the sound of his name and he is a kade.

"What is a kade?" I asked.  The Urban Dictionary says it is a nice person who smiles no matter what.  Yes, this is my MC.  Serendipity.

This morning I looked at the copies that other attendees are free to scribble on and realized that one of them is missing.  Someone took a copy.  It is upsetting because they took it, they could have asked I may have said yes, but why take it?

Perhaps I should feel it a compliment but it feels like stealing.  I mean would they take a book in the store? I wonder.

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