A Novel and a Letter to my Mum
1st October 2015
I‘ve been writing a novel and chewing on my pen. Often, particularly during a tricky paragraph, there‘s a snap of plastic and I‘ve crunched through my pen. My teeth hate that. My gums are scarred. Another frequent shock occurs after I‘ve pressed the tip too hard and the ravaged top of the pen is unable to keep the spring suppressed so the ink cartridge and the spring shoots out of the fuselage and over my shoulder.
I have reached the editing stage; hence the preponderance of red ballpoints in the top quarter of the jar.
Here also is Nine Poems and a Letter to my Mum. Pens resist my chewing in different ways.
A Letter to my Mum
I have a strong bite and quick reactions. My dentist, Mr Kettlwell, said so a little while after saying the third word of a sentence that in its entirety would probably have been, “Bite down hard when I say so.”