More ideas. They’re bubbling up and out like pish from a bladed jakey. No idea whether they’ll end up in the final cut of the idiots’ graveyard, but I’m slotting them in, more or less willy-nilly.
Okay, there’s a basic building block logic to the novel- as it exists in my skull for now – but no great over-arching plan for the whole thing yet.
As November hurtles towards me like a jail on wheels, it *feels* like I’m about to write a novel about the one sane man up against a completely irrational universe. Although, in my defence, there are actually two sane characters fairly central to the plot already.
Why not check out my novel, “1919 (inside)” available from smashwords?
Doing for sexuality what carlos castenada does for masked wrestling.