I'm not Grammar Jesus

Well, that's what I've been told yesterday and I had to laugh at that statement. Guess what? The person was right. This particular person -- presumably an author -- is trying to sell his book. And he seems to think no matter what it takes. People have repeatedly pointed out that the book is full of errors, so is the blurb.
He seems unwilling to correct any of them. Not even one.Now call me cynical, but I doubt this book will succeed.
After I pointed out that his one-liner had eight errors in it, he told me I'm not Grammar Jesus. Heck, I don't want to be Jesus anyway. I'd rather be a Grammar Nazi, because that would mean my grammar is impeccable, which is not the case. But I have hope.
At the moment, I'm learning the past of the past, as I call it, or probably better known as past perfect. All those names don't mean anything to me to be honest; I learn it all by heart.
My poor friend Tom is the one who suffers, as I'm sending him excerpts from the thriller, asking him to highlight anything wrong so I can fix it and he kindly helps me on my quest to learn and improve.

Speaking of the thriller: after I've finally had the breakthrough with the rough storyline, the writing flows. Sort of. My daily goal is 1000 words and so far, I've managed apart from one day, where I only wrote 500. Better than nothing, right? I hope to have the first draft complete by mid May. So pull up your knickers, it's getting hot, my dears.

Hot was it in London today and I spent the whole day on the roof, writing, chatting to people and then partaking in the workshop for us gardeners. As a result I brought home 1200 words, half a proposal written and a full blown sunburn. Oh and an aching body. Ho hum.