Brodsy

G'day, everyone. I hope you are all enjoying a more pleasant Christmas than we all are in Sydney. It was actually cold here on Christmas Day, the first time I have witnessed such in all my forty-five years orbiting around the sun. Anyway, this week we are up to the twenty-fifth story in Aberrant Selected, entitled, Saving Brodsy. This story I wrote about my friend of longest standing, Louise Fraser. I first met her when she was the girlfriend of a former friend, around twenty-four years ago, and we have kept in contact ever since. I find it easy to make her laugh.

     Louise I have nicknamed Brodsy, because like Franz Kafka, who had his own personal editor, Max Brod, Louise is my personal editor. This has been the case for several years, and everything of mine that goes out into the world seeking a publisher has first gone passed the eagle eyes of Brodsy. I of course pay her for her services, and having a personal editor definitely gives one an edge in the vicious publishing industry.

     This story, though, is a fictionalised rendering of Brodsy. It was a chance to tell her thank you for looking after me, as much as I would let her, while I was homeless. Brodsy and I have also, to a certain extent, grown up together, so when I was writing the story it felt like I was with the big sister that I have always wanted. 

     Brodsy these days is verily happily married, and has three young children, two boys, and a girl. I have told her several times that she is an excellent mother, mainly because she puts a lot of work into looking after her family, always putting them first. Not only is she a great mother but she is a great friend too. Thanks, Brodsy.