In the US, it was Mother’s Day yesterday. My mom is gone now but she (along with my dad) supported my writing efforts. So I’m going to share a “mom and writing” moment here.
It was a short story that had turned into the thriller-that-wasn’t. But I allowed my mom to read the first chapter. She had a puzzled look on her face. “It doesn’t end?”
I smiled. “No, it’s the setup for the rest of the story.”
“No,” she said, holding out the last page. “It doesn’t end.”
I took the page from her with a little impatience, ready to defend my darling, when I saw she was right—somehow, I had omitted the last paragraph.
“Oops,” I said.
She forgave me.
After she read the rest, I asked, “What did you think?”
“Well, it needs more sex,” she replied.
Mom, I miss you lots.
* Image courtesy of scottchan at FreeDigitalPhotos.net