I’m self-publishing, not because it’s a vanity project but because I want a copy for my daughter and don’t care to hawk it round publishers in the forlorn hope of getting it one day, maybe, printed.

It’s a book of rhymes, called “Eleanor Kisses Crocodiles”.  I wrote the rhymes (with able assistance from my wife, especially on the “snake” page) about my daughter, and my Dad has drawn and painted the accompanying pictures.  I got the cover pic from him today.  It is amazing, it’s just beautiful.  I’m uploading the text as I type this, up to, and soon I’ll put together a proper cover, with words and stuff.

I’m actually doing this.  It’s a thing.  It’s going to happen.   I’m going to be published.  YES, BY ME.   I know.  But still.  It’s exciting, however it happens.

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