It’s true. What started out as a short break while sipping the morning tea has become a millstone. I sit down intent on creating a work of entertaining but forgettable fiction, and end up presenting some earth-shaking fact. (See ‘Are you a blog slave’ – no, you don’t need to.) What I want is a cure.
Proposed partial cure: give it up on Sundays. This is not on religious grounds. Let me test the logic on my vast reader base – a fairly representative focus group I’d say. People who don’t blog at home – ie. those with kids to buy shoes for, vegetable gardens or other distractions – don’t look in until they get to work on Mondays. Thus they get three posts together – and probably read only the last one. Not necessary.
While you’re thinking about that, there's a writer I like. (The ‘Profile’ section doesn’t allow you to give favourite writers – funny that.) It's Saki – no, not the latest signing by Chelsea – he was a very funny writer – cousin of a very non-funny writer, as I remember, but can’t remember who that was. He - that's Saki not the cousin - wrote things like, ‘I hear they’re going to Lower Regent Street’. ‘I’m sure they will.’ Or ‘he’s got a finely-developed instinct for being unhappy’ – which brings to mind a relative of mine. OK, you had to be there.
There - twelve minutes, plus 48 minutes proofing.
Welcome to the six-day week. At least it stopped raining.
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