Actually, it didn’t. It crawled by with malicious idleness, but it seems to have been an age since I blogged and so I felt obliged to put some stock expression of being too occupied and distracted to write.
I hate January. Not because it’s post-Christmas, or the weather’s awful (it is), or we’re all on a downer after the New Year, but just because it seems to go on FOREVVVVVVVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR … And it’s boring.
But it ended on a high. Two acceptances, one of which I was asked to write within a week or so. I did it in a day. 15,000 words in a day. Yes, I will allow myself a little glow of smug satisfaction.
But it happens like that, doesn’t it? It either flows out or it doesn’t (writing that is, not some bodily evacuation).
Thing is, I have a lot of other stuff I’d love to flow out, but there seems to be some sort of blockage. Maybe it’s due to all the trees that have been falling round here. I’ll use that as an excuse anyway.
God, this is a random post. Sorry. Sometimes stream of consciousness is all I can manage.
And Paul Newman.