The unconditional love of a parent

I’ve just had an article published (non-fiction) in a magazine. It’s not that exciting in the grand scheme of things but I was pleased anyway, not least of all because it went a small way to offset the nausea I felt when I pressed “send” on the email to the editor.

I’m now the proud owner of several copies, not because I’ve been that pretentious (although I’m certainly capable of it) but because a few people in my office have rather sweetly bought them and left them on my desk with “Good job!” and such the like scrawled on post-it notes stuck to the covers.

My favorite feedback, however, came from my mother. A lovely lady, who I’m sure meant no ill with her rather fabulous comment, “Riveting stuff, yes, but I don’t understand a word”. I suspect this is the second worst feedback you can give a writer, behind “Yeah, I see what you’re saying. Obviously it’s completely wrong”.

Thanks Mum.

SON: i [/i]Look, mum, I drew a picture.
MUM: What’s it supposed to be?
SON: (crestfallen) It’s us, in front of the house.
MUM: Is that a tree?
SON: It’s… it’s a car.
MUM: Looks like a tree.

It’s always noteworthy when one’s words are published by someone who did so because the liked what you wrote. Congratulations!