Last week (as of midnight) I wrote 4 962 words more on the first draft of SUMMERTON - more or less - bringing it to a grand total of mumblemumblemorethanzero, and which just goes to show that sitting in a cafe with someone who is working much harder than you are is excellently motivating.

Plus, coffee.

Plus, wine.

This week is supposed to be a dissertation week. I hope I shall have like success!

(Sometimes it is freeing to realise that most of this won't even be in the final draft, and sometimes it is depressing, depending on how good I think the bits are. I want all the good bits to stay, of course, but when I think I am writing crap I take myself by the scruff of the neck - which looks very impressive - and say, "Karen! Don't worry about it; it'll all be stripped in the next draft!"

Then I have wine.)

I hope the arm-breaking stays, because so far it is the maimiest thing I am done in the whole book. MORE BLOODSHED.