I’ve spent the morning pacing around the house, manuscript in hand, growling (I have a sore throat) the poems aloud. I’ve finished the final poem about the Gloucester Sea Gladiators and polished some of the others.

Even my hairdresser, Juliet got in on the act earlier. The manuscript went with me to the hairdressers first thing so she could see the cover – Bill Lazell’s wonderful photograph. Before I could blink the manageress had taken the whole thing out of my hands and was reading aloud one of the poems about Taid being bombed in Grand Harbour. “This has given me goose bumps,” she said and wants a copy of the book. I suppose this is known as marketing although I did explain it isn’t finished.

So I’ve sent it off in the ether to a critical reader.

What do I do now…..?