Interlude

I was negligent in mentioning something earlier: my friend, Amber's daughter, Deb,  had been the driving force behind my ever seeking publication. If left to my own devices, no doubt I would still be writing solely for her and her mother's pleasure, unaware of the fantastic high that comes with a letter of acceptance. Deb was directly responsible for the creation of Tin Whistle, emailing me that her (then) employer was starting a magazine, and wanted me to contribute. Tin Whistle was the result. It turned out that the magazine was a bust, however, but it had got me tantalizingly close to publication, and I was left with what I felt was a pretty good story. Joining the local writers' guild became the next logical step to market it...said logic belonging to Amber, and not myself.