I have just woken up from a dream where I was standing trial in a packed out Great Pit of Daznak, the theme tune from Games of Thrones blaring whilst I was being cross-examined about whether or not I actually owned my own words.
I’m currently throwing everything at restructuring my novel and during my downtimes, I have been relaxing… binge watching Game of Thrones. Now, the two have collided in my dreams.
“Do you own this comma?”
“I do M’lady, yes, his name is Cid and I also own that full stop.”
“Do you know that Cid is in the wrong place?”
“He is and it’s a crime under Meereenian law to put a comma in the wrong place and what’s more, I see from your manuscript that it’s not only Cid who is in the wrong place.” The crowd gasps.
“Really?” I am mortified.
The Queen sighs heavily and nods her head.
“There would appear to be a whole army of Dothraki, Second Sons and Unsullied Cids in the wrong place…” Time for me to gasp as I hear the sound of knives being sharpened. “…and the penalty for this blatant assault on good grammar is… consistent revision until you get it right and I will be lenient with you.” Disappointed murmurings from the crowd. “You have six weeks to revise the manuscript.”
“But, M’lady,” I whimper, “what if I don’t write it right in six weeks… it’s not very long.”
Cue for Shorkon, my fearless Shorkie, to rescue me from the Great Pit.
Ah, well, it’s a good job this edit is not getting to me. Anyway, now I’m awake, I might as well get on with the rewrite.