Having spent the entire day plunged into scenes of battle I am not going to write very much more.
Already today I have written lots and lots. I have practically worn the keys off my computer, frowning at the screen and editing and re-writing, telling horror stories, some of which I have pinched directly from actual accounts written by actual soldiers: but it is done. The battle is written, and indeed it is far more interesting than a last minute truce, but I feel as though I have spent the whole day wading in gore.
We had to get up ridiculously early this morning because of Lucy having an appointment at the dentist, who made his usual “well, what can I say, what a perfect human being” face as he pronounced Lucy once again free from any sort of dental unpleasantness. The only thing to be said in its favour was a quiet fifteen minutes in the waiting room to peruse a glossy magazine. I like these, although wouldn’t dream of spending money actually purchasing one. Despite not having brought my glasses, I managed to squint at it perfectly well enough to work out that it was largely about make-up, orgasms, and celebrities of whom I have not heard, but who looked very pretty.
None of those issues have ever troubled me greatly, so it was interesting to look at other people’s ideas about the things in life that matter. Everybody pictured seemed to be surrounded by the sort of furniture that would be ruined for ever by a single muddy paw mark. If ever I am famous I will buy a new sofa, because ours has already been ruined by lots of muddy paw marks, and I would like one where the cushion covers come off easily.
After the dentist I made some shortbread and then spent hours and hours drinking buckets of tea in front of the computer. I ate quite a bit of shortbread as well, it was the nice one with cherries and maple syrup. It went down well with my accounts of bludgeoning and massacre brought about by the invasion of the Scots.
We are not going to go to work, partly because last night we earned eleven pounds between us, and partly because the heater in my car is still not working. Because of this I have had a large glass of wine and some cheese and crackers for dinner.
How lovely to have a husband who thinks that this is all right.
He bulked out his own cheese and crackers with some sausages, and is sitting downstairs building his solar panels whilst I am writing to you.
I seem to have drunk an entire glass of wine during the composition of this. I didn’t’t notice it happening, but nevertheless the glass is inexplicably empty and I am feeling just a touch light headed.
It might be time to start thinking about going to bed.
I have been starting to look for a literary agent. I think I have got about five chapters to go.
I haven’t taken a picture. Have one of my lovely family.
