Let us not pretend that I have been well-behaved about updating this blog or that I have any particular reason for that beyond “being busy with the kind of things that don’t make for good blog entries” (Horns was mediocre, by the way, but if you like Daniel Radcliffe’s nipples go and watch it, you’re welcome).
Here is how I am doing with my epidemic novel:
Ahead of the game in terms of word count, but not plot points, and also damp and tired thanks to the sky falling on my head when I was trying to walk back from the library. Also it’s cold, all of a sudden? Almost as if winter were descending at last upon the Northern Hemisphere.
Ben said blandly, “Just a note for the recording, I am indeed giving Dr Khoo –“
“Daniel will do fine, thank you.”
“Giving Daniel the same look of blank incomprehension I was earlier, and he looks like he wants to strangle me.” He pushed his own coffee towards the frustrated scientist, and waited. The wind changed direction momentarily, throwing an empty plastic bag against their legs along with a vanguard of early fallen leaves.
As the saying goes: it’s a first draft, dear God, it is a first draft.