Mr Nose, meet Mr Grindstone

Well, She Who Must is back at work again and I’ve got the house to myself. This can mean only one thing – stop sodding about with short stories and get back to TSA. So I’ve spent the morning reading over the 96 pages I’d written before things went all edit-shaped on Dying Light, doing a little trimming, but mostly trying to get a feel for the story again.

It always feels a bit odd trying to get back into a book after a long gap, like trying to jump onto a spinning roundabout. It’s always easier to get the thing going and leap aboard than try to scramble on later. But scrambling is the name of the game today, so scramble I must. Scramble, scramble, scramble.

I’ve decided to not set my sights too high to start with – just a thousand words would do me today. More would be nice, but I’m aiming at a thousand done and dusted before She Who Must gets back from work.

Right – less lollygagging and spondulation, I must away!