Bloody hairy monkey bollocks

Well it’s happened again. On my way to bed last night and I get another attack of the bloody muse. So I’m standing in the study scribbling away on the whiteboard when I should be curled up in beddy-bo-bies dreaming about scantily clad women. It’s not fair!

And worse yet – it’s got bugger all to do with any of the things I need to get finished by the end of the year:

  1. The Standalone needs about another forty to fifty thousand words. Maybe less. Maybe more. But somewhere about there.
  2. I’ve got another eleven shorties to do for my twelve days of Christmas thing.
  3. Book 3 of the jolly adventures of DS Logan McRae has to be planned out in the next two and a half weeks, or it’ll be tatties over the side and a stiff kicking for me.
  4. At least two shorties need polished so they can go off somewhere in search of a home.
  5. What about some prep work for the crime writering workshop next Saturday?
  6. Oh yea, and the next Skeleton Bob story needs devised, written, illustrated and lettered before it can go out as a Christmas present pour les nephew.

What I DON’T need are more bloody short story ideas right now. I have plenty to be going on with, thank you very much! Come back in January when I might just have some breathing space.

I’m going to get a big bloody baseball bat. TWACK! Ha! How’d you like them little red wagons?