The Grammatically Negligent – and hilariously grumpy – Review

Writing this was difficult.  The whole of 1929 has sort of dragged, and I’m going to have to go back and fix it when I’m all done.  But we’re almost done.  A lot happens in this chapter (Finally dammit!) and I’m actually fairly happy with this part of it.

In other news I wrote this chapter to improbable music (Vienna Teng songs) but somehow it seemed to work.  One of these days I’m going to list what I wrote each chapter to, but right now is not the time.  Now is the time for sleep.  Lots of it.

Chapter Twenty Four
Guilt

My friend Alan – Elijah told you about him – once told me in his flat in London that I was a woman without a conscience. In Boston he told me, after everything that had happened there on the Dark Roads, that it was the first time in my life that I had ever felt guilt. He was wrong of course. I am many things, but one of them isn’t a sociopath. There are things that I’ve done tshat I regret. There just aren’t many of them. But the first time that I can remember feeling guilt was here in New Orleans. When I think of Santos, I feel guilt.

Perhaps I shouldn’t. It is, after all, not my fault what happened to him. Santos was an adult, and the decisions he made were his own. Would he have made them without me? No. But that is an accident of fate, and not an accident of my being there. Read more