Sagging

You wouldn't think I'd be worrying about sagging middles right now -- not because I personally don't have one (on my body) -- but because I just got rid of Theo and I've hardly had time to get to the middle of Spence.

But . . . you'd be wrong.

I have a sagging middle in the middle of simply thinking about Spence. This is worrisome as I don't even have that much of a beginning yet. I sort of think of books as hammocks. There's this pole at one end (the beginning) and a pole at the other (the end) -- and all the rest is hammock. You can think of it as a sagging middle if you want, but my term is more restful.

Anyway, Spence has, I think, a very nifty beginning. A challenging beginning. Which is good, because if he didn't, I wouldn't have much of a book. Or a hammock. And I haven't really thought about the end yet. So I'm just imagining a sort of virtual post out there to hold up the other side.

Right now I'm getting into the palm trees. See, I told you there would be palm trees. I think I'm going to have to borrow my friend Robyn Donald's imaginary South Pacific island for this one. I've offered her Elmer, Montana. We'll see if she wants to do a swap! Just for now -- don't worry, I've got enduring rights in Elmer.

But now I need to go figure out the middle of Spence so I can weave some good support for anyone who comes along and decides to rest in my hammock. Should be fun.