The other day featured the arrival of my copy of one of the novels I have ghost-written, along with going online and seeing the first reviews of it. They seem to be positive, and while that is obviously nothing to do with me anymore, I am happy that somebody has liked it.
The next test is whether my mother will like it, since she is currently reading my copy. Given how hard I have worked to ensure that she doesn't read my urban fantasy stuff, I am understandably nervous.
I was, curiously, rather less nervous the other night when standing a few feet from some chaps who wanted to hit me with assorted knives and longswords. Probably, this had a great deal to do with them not being sharp, what with it being simply the local branch of a Historical European Martial Arts group. Fun, though possibly not as much of a challenge as fencing, simply because you don't get as many people doing it. I must also admit to being a little worried by some of the dagger techniques, which were based on a particular fourteenth century form of dagger with no real cutting edge, and so tended to ignore those moments when that edge was wandering across the arms.
Andy Murray is out of Wimbledon. No doubt, pundits will now declare the British summer of sport officially in ruins, what with being out of the football world cup as well. For some reason, they seem to be ignoring cricket, and particularly the bit where England won the twenty/twenty world cup. Apparently, failure at sports where we have very little chance of success counts as bigger news.