'That'll learn you' I am saying to myself. All that printing out of pages and pages.
I woke at 5 a.m. this morning, lay in bed for a bit wondering about the whys and wherefores of the murders I have to put into my tale, now that I have more or less decided on the who.
But I not could not work it out, so I got up and tried some mind-mapping, a brand new pen, a couple of walks, a visit to the gym . Still nothing. Eventually, eleven hours later, a sort of mini-glimmer - fragile and barely believable but ...
The net result being, of course, that I have written not one word extra, and quite probably have several to discard.
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