Thank you, Fiona!
Thank you, dear Cousin Fiona, for taking my first attempt at writing seriously and typing it for me. That encouragement shaped the course of my life. Thank you.
Thank you, Sandra!
When I used to read a male author thank his wife for her invaluable assistance, I would picture a man sitting at his computer while behind him stood his loving wife making perceptive observations.
Or, in another scenario, they would be in bed together. His wife would be reading his work, while he listened to her feedback that was so insightful he couldn’t wait to make changes.
Or, I’d imagine him throwing up his hands in despair, declaring he was just not good enough!, and then his wife would give him a steely look and tell him he will change the lives of thousands. Uplifted, he would bound to his computer inspired.
At other times I would imagine his wife finding grammatical mistakes, and better ways to express ideas, that made his work attractive to a publisher.
That was when I was in fantasy land. I now picture a woman reading only a small fraction of her husband’s work, and trying damnably hard to prove that his work is a considerable ‘waste of time’ and a ‘crock of shit’. The husband accepts the criticism in the same way an overladen donkey accepts yet another whack with a stick. He knows that if his wife makes the criticism, so will others. It’s a weird symbiosis: his wife fervently looks for holes in the boat he is building, to prove it’s hopeless, and he benefits because he can plug the holes up.
Although Sandra Krueger is not my wife, she is a friend who, when presented with the occasional chapter, has been keen to provide the ‘frank support’ just described. I am enormously grateful to her for her ‘analysis’. Her assistance has been invaluable. Thank you, Sandra.
To all authors, male and female, who have thanked their spouse for providing invaluable assistance: I now understand. I salute you.
Thank you, happiness gurus!
Although I regularly swipe at many of you, I fully accept that you led the way. Each of my swipes was like the child disagreeing with the parent. That’s how it felt. But children need to do that; they need to leave the path and make their own. Your wisdom, your thoughts, your effort, and your love, in each of your books, gave me the support to step off your wide, strong path, and make my own path. Thank you!
Thank you, grasshoppers!
To those of you at Speakers’ Corner who give the delicate Mr Bashful a hard time by pointing out his inconsistencies: thank you! Your feedback continues to be invaluable.
Thank you, complimenters!
Each compliment I received was like getting a life-giving thump from a defibrillator: it got my fading heart up and going again. Thank you!