It’s always weird, getting to the end of another novel. There’s always that wee dip when it’s finally over.
Okay, it’s only a first draft, but for the last month, I’ve been living and breathing that parallel universe where all the monsters, bastards and giants I’ve ever worked beside all frolicked and gambolled together in the post-industrial meadow.
Suddenly, it spits me out and I’m splattered back into the world where I have to go out and work – amongst colleagues a damn sight less funny than the inhabitants of the idiots’ graveyard
That’s five days now. I’m getting the odd dip, but for the most part, I’m coming back down to the ‘real world’ (whatever that is!)
Starting to think less in terms of ‘never the fuck again’ and more along the lines of ‘see next time, I’m gonna…’
I’ve been binge-ing on tv, too. And not all of it good. ‘Him & her’ series one being a case in point. Not a bad cast, but the basic premise seems to be ‘if shameless was a sit-com AND wasn’t funny’…

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