Curse you, real world. Why is it that in the midst of distraction, I am distracted?
I have more work than a pit pony, yet suddenly I'm lost in story.
Having felt nothing much towards the final throes of my latest novel, I'm devouring the completed draft. This may well go down as one of the fastest first edits in history: 221 pages in four days. Only 42 left to go!
I'm still not saying it's good - I'm saying I'm happy.
On top of that, I was sent someone else's manuscript for an opinion. I can't really say much about that, but I've thoroughly been enjoying it. Gobbling up the pages each night beneath my mosquito net.
Meanwhile, I've been feasting my eyes on the Strange & Norrell adaptation, and the latest series of Game of Thrones. Despite wanting to wait until I caught up with the books, I just couldn't resist.
So, right now, story is all around me.
The more I immerse myself in story, the better my dreams tend to be at night. I feel more whole, I think more, I observe more - I'm more alive.
Still, all of this must go on hold shortly whilst my schedule turns manic.
Soon, very soon, I shall crack on with the next novel.