I’ve just sat down with 1919 for the first time in a week, smoothing and polishing the first half of December.

And the break’s done me good, I believe. It’s too easy to lose sight of all the individual trees when I’m wrapped up in the wood.

So. Fresh eyes and I approached it with enthusiasm, which I don’t always have for revisions.

I love the adventure of wrestling notes into a first draft, whereas revision can seem like kicking around a corpse – shaving and shining something I’ve already done.

Did I mention I’m homo neophile? That I fetishise novelty and fresh things and I have the attention span of a moth on crack?

Add to this, a mind that’s like Eastern European animation at fast-forward speed and you see the extent of my problem.

Basically, in a lot of respects, I’m an adolescent. I have such a low boredom threshold, it’s not funny.

So, getting myself psyched to revise this (again!) is quite a triumph.

I should have this completed over the next couple of days and, as was foretold in song and legend, people will actually be able to read the bastard soon!

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