Wrizzit
For everything, down to the scribbles.
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Yesterday I submitted the final draft of Grumble and Gasp to the publisher for printing. A culmination of six years of sporadic work and a lifetime of dreaming. When I told the wife, she celebrated in her own wee, charming way. She clapped her hands and cried out in Arabic, “My sisters, my sisters, he has killed the dead lion!” Which I’m sure makes much more sense as an Egyptian idiom than it does to my weird hillbilly brain. To me it brings to mind a fellow who wanders across a cold, dead beast, lops off its head, and then runs back to his friends to brag about his bravery. Still, I deeply appreciate the sentiment, and the frankly adorable delivery.
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