Woke up at 05:30 hauled hedgewise through weird-ass dreams. I found a big lump of money, twenties, fifties, almost too big to close my fist around. It was lying on a window sill, on the street.
Then i tried to lock myself in a toilet stall (there was no lock) to count it and various teenagers in 1930s dress kept interrupting me.
And no, the price of acid in Scotland didn’t just drop.
I revised two-and-a-half dozen pages of my ‘snuff’ novel. (have i mentioned it’s a love story, one that takes place on the set of a snuff movie?)
Later, i read the first fifty pages of “fifty shades of gray”. Then, when i went back to revising ‘snuff’, i felt all geniussy. My sentences stood proud and solid, head and shoulders above the children’s pop-up book i spent half my afternoon reading.
I’m about ten pages shy of being two-thirds of the way through this revision. (if that makes sense…)
I’ve also completed the first (very basic) draft of next month’s ‘dystopia’ novel. I have the backdrop in place and the central male and female characters…
But it still needs an injection of something – i don’t know what, hence my starting “the girl who played with fire” last night and “fifty shades of shite” this afternoon.