Monday, 12 May 2008

Scream if I do anything unbearable. . .

I walked my son to school today for the first day of his SATs and then I had to cycle over to the dentists to have the hygienist do some industrial scraping of my teeth under anaesthetic. She told me that she had been trained in the army, practicing on Gurkhas and paratroopers. Gurkhas have an especially high pain threshold, she told me, as she hovered over me with what looked like something the Inquisition might have employed as a last resort.

The dentist who recommended this treatment is Swedish. He began examining me with the words - in the same lilting accent as Sven Goran Erickson - 'Scream if I do anything unbearable.' What a fantastic opening line.

In the afternoon, I sent the proofs of Tales of Terror from the Black Ship off to Bloomsbury, hoping that I had spotted everything that needed spotting. If I have it will be the first time ever. However hard everyone tries, no sooner has the book been printed than some glaringly obvious error leaps out from the page. And every author I know says the same.

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