Milktart and inspiration and not killing your children


Boxing day, and the tree is still up.

Cat stole the last slice of melktert from the fridge while no one was looking. Cat also needs to go on something of a diet, as she is now officially the fattest person in her family.

I’ve been killing time looking at photos and waiting for inspiration. Yeah, I love picspiration. All I get is an image, and that flickers through my head trailing ideas.   Then I go, “ooh what if…   ‘ and normally end up with a character.

Then I torment said character until they crack/die/overcome. I like to call this plot.  It’s not really.  Plot comes when I look at my garbled and rather lengthy outline (ie: the first draft of the book) and say “jesus christ what the hell is this kak?” and try fix it.


In Tiny Violins Esther needs a new name (I ALWAYS do this to myself, give a character a completely inappropriate place holder name that makes no sense in context, then become attached to said name. Ugh dumb dumb dumb) and beef up her role considerably.

Must also remember to go get IDs and passports sorted on Monday. Ugh. Just the thought makes my brain die a little. I’m always losing my damn ID, and then I have to go through the whole palaver again.

Because I so love standing in never-ending serpentine queues and then being fingerprinted. (Actually I lie, I do kinda love the fingerprinting part,  it’s like finger painting for criminals or something)

Then Thursday we will do CCHQ. That’s the plan anyway.

And now, I need to go and try not to do terrible terrible things to an almost two year old who WILL NOT NAP.

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