This is my 100th post on here. Which means an average of about one post every four days, a number I’m quite happy with. The only slightly annoying this is that I’m too tired to write anything appropriately momentous to mark the occasion.

I got up at six this morning, having gone to bed at four (I fucked up my bodyclock over the weekend and needed to kick it back into early starts if I have a hope in hell of getting the book finished without missing out on upcoming Christmas events). My day today has been spent basically restructuring the whole damn thing; the result of a lot of dithering over the past few weeks on structure and focus. I told myself I couldn’t go to sleep until I’d not only got the narrative back on track, but cut out the fat and crap.

As I sit here in bed at 2:12am, I’m pretty sure I’ve done it. Which makes me happy because at midnight I was pretty fucking far from sure. But for tonight, at least, I think everything’s going to be OK.

Until tomorrow, then.

Night night.