Mr Grumpy-Trousers and the Gloom of Doom

And it was all going so well... OK, so not 'well' in the traditional sense, but it was actually going. Yes, that's right, Book Number The Fifth is about to lurch to a slightly embarrassed halt, like so much spaghetti hoops on burnt toast.

And the reason I have to abandon my tome of naughty wonder, only nine pages in? The page proofs for FLESH HOUSE are supposed to be arriving today, clattering through my letterbox and demanding to be read and covered in red pen before the 9th of January.

Maybe not 'covered'. I swore to myself that after the pain in the backside I was about the second draft, there was no way in Hell (or Kirkcaldy) I was going to obsess over every last word in the page proofs too. Not like last time. And the time before that. When I also swore I wouldn't be a picky bastard. Then was.

Apparently some writers just skim their page proofs, then fire them back with a big smiley face drawn on the coversheet. Jammy, sensible buggers that they are. No agonising for them, which frees up much more time for wine and cheesy nibbles.

Do you think it's a coincidence that 'nibbles' and 'nipples' are almost the same word?

Anyway, these page proof thingies are coming at a horrible time:

  1. It's Christmas and I should be decking the halls with whatever's lying about at the time. Like Tipex and underpants.
  2. I have a stinking cold and when not sticking up pants and correction-fluid, I should be curled up in bed with a team of nubile nurses catering to my every whim. Not that my whims are up to much at the moment, but you never know...
  3. I've just spent nearly a whole week staying at a friend's flat in Aberdeen, allowing me to soak up the city's ambiance (along with a pint or two) and doing that there reasearchy stuff for Book Number The Fifth, and I don't want all that aforementioned ambiance to dribble away out of my ears before I've had a chance to use it.
  4. It's pretty piss-poor to give up writing a book after only 9 pages. One of which only has a single word on it: 'burning'.
  5. Have I mentioned nubile nurses?


But I have no one but myself to blame - I was far too picky during the edit, and now I have to reap the whirlwind. I am a windy reaper.

It's a romantic image, isn't it?

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