The Stars and the Cookie Jar

It's a hard thing when your Much Anticipated* Second Novel suddenly has cheirophant pickpockets instead of the co-protagonist you thought you were writing about, and takes place a quarter century after you thought it did when you started the thing two-three years ago. It's also a hard thing when you don't go on holiday for another four days and you want to write all of a sudden with more than oriental splendour.

Ex-Boss is being remarkably milquetoast to me today. This is good. I prefer to avoid conflict, especially when I'm writing stories in my head.


*Sort of. By like, 12 people.