A slap on the wrist yesterday - someone followed my blog...rather than celebrations, cue immediate guilt that I hadn't updated it for a while.  But is this a bad thing?  If I have nothing to say, should I say something anyway, for the sake of filling pages?  No, I don't think I should.  There have been enough cases of rash-tweeting recently to be a warning that keeping your mouth shut occasionally is a good thing.  So, to my first follower, thank you very much and welcome.  Just don't expect essays...

Her thoughts always crowded around, seeking attention, demanding to be put down on paper.  Once there, they would not lay quiet.  She pressed the ‘back’ button.

Today, I got a rejection for my novel from a literary agent.  This was not the first rejection note I have ever received and is unlikely to be the last.  

What did annoy me rather was that it was a standard email, of four lines, when they had had the submission (in their requested format) since March.  289 days to be precise.  Am I unreasonable in thinking that a little customisation could have been done in that time?  I always seek feedback, I always want to improve...if anything, I prefer criticism to praise, because it is more often genuine.  So, please, give me something...  

The door was ajar, a glimpse of dark, twisting corridor behind.  First step onto the threshold, when something shoved her.  She landed outside: the door slamming.