In a moment of craziness (one of the moments that wasn't spent writing) I hacked off some of my hair - I know very Van Goughian - especially since I was left with two ear-shaped flunks (yes they failed) of hair on either side of my face; and now I look like a Picasso. I had to commandeer my son to help me straighten out the back. In his words, "you have cut a bob in the front and you have a mullet jamming at the back." Yes he tells it like it is and is a smart****to boot. After the hair jutting (not cutting) fiasco, firstborn accompanied me to Sainsbury's so that he could blow the year's budget on snacks. I discussed the time period of the novel and how I do my research: "You mean you read Grazia 1905, in the bath Mum," he said.
|This is how I roll|