So. I am writing a lot of things that start with ‘so’ nowadays. Which amuses me, in a kind of children’s hour style.
I finally dug out a copy of Tom, 19 days into November. And dutifully did what I do every single time I pick up the novel. I started editing the beginning. Again. Again. Again. It’s like sodding tellytubby land in my brain sometimes. Just move on. Move on. The beginning will sort itself out. It will. Accept it.
Sigh. I don’t like it at the moment. I’m still stuck between BBC2 comedy drama and um, I don’t know, something with some really weak Irish characters in it, like Bewitched.
Annoyed. But at least I can say I spent two hours writing in November. Ok. At least I can say I spent two hours repositioning buttons on toolbars in NeoOffice in November. And making tea. And polishing glasses. Similarly unused, except for these two hours in November.
Frustrating.
