To My Dear Ditzy Miss Landau!

Dear Juliet

I've got a cushion under my lower back so the pain's not too bad today. I also tried to go to church and light an urgent candle for you but it's overrun by kids (oh, the little darlings!) and we're all locked out...

So I'm just left with a lingering worry (and a good shot of the church), plus my ongoing commitment to not leaving you in the lurch.

In that regard:

If you need more advice like the Scott Allie seminar, I'm waiting here on the wire. It's pretty simple stuff, actually, if a bit stark.

If you'd like the updated versions of the Dru Quartet in case you ever do that table read, I can send them to you. In most cases, I just made microscopic grammatical corrections, but Graveyard needed a bit more exposition and the date of its setting had to be moved from 2032 to late 2019 (just before the Covid-19 pandemic).

P.S. you can have the author, too!

And no, I'm not angling to get your email address. There's just no other way to do it.

I'm not sure whether you're worried sick, stressed out or sitting in the catbird seat without a care in the world. I do think that if you start reading my blogs late at night, something's on your mind.

But of course I worry about you. Not that image you present to the world (although I admit I do rather like blues and the hat), but you, my dear ditzy Miss Landau...

You know, I'm not sure I ever said this, but I think Somebody Up There Likes You, and He wants to help you.

And remember, right from the early days, I queued up outside conventions because I liked coming to see you. Not the Hollywood image. You.

Always liked having those quiet private conversations in front of two hundred people...

Okay, I've got my appointment with the osteopath tomorrow at three. Definitely looking forward to that.

But not as much as I look forward to writing to you every day.

Love,

James





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