To celebrate the final rounds of editing my Calculated Cruelty book I got a tattoo of a colon on my hand. The punctuation kind, not the body part.
Yes, I’m joking. I actually received these two blood blisters while repairing this fence last week.
I don’t think I could ever get a tattoo because I’m not sure I could pick out anything I’d want to display permanently. And, I could never stop thinking about how my cousin, who works at a nursing home, described how tattoos look on old people. But to each his own, as far as those go. While not pertinent to the story, there are a couple characters in the book that sport their own ink.
Less permanent is this time spent editing, and the arguments Grammerly and I are having, none of which are about colons, either. They consist mostly of me talking smack to the silent screen of suggestions. While never admitting they were wrong, I did receive this email today.