You may have already noticed; I've written 11 764 words this week. (If you hadn't already noticed, let me gently guide your eyes downwards and to the right slightly. And if you're still none the wiser about what this whole NaNoWriMo malarky is all about, let me gently point you over here.) Yay me.
You may also have noticed, not many of those words have been ones I've written here. And having raised your expectations last week with with my oh-so-prompt Apprentice round-up, I've let them come crashing down again by not even managing to get one of those written this week. I feel bad.
Yes, I'm afraid there's a steadily growing pile of tumbleweed just on the other side of this blog. Sorry about that. But you didn't really expect me to write 50,000 words of a novel AND keep up with posts this month, did you? There are loads of things I *want* to blog about, including (in no particular order) that Apprentice round-up, a review of a brilliant book I read a few weeks ago, and my reaction to the NaNoWriMo backlash which rippled through the publishing industry this week. Also the lady I saw today at Royal Festival Hall, wearing a gold, skin tight leopard skin jumpsuit and blue stilettos and hula-hooping. So it's not that I'm short of ideas. Just short of time.
Normal service should resume in early December I hope; in the meantime I'll do my best to get a couple of short posts up during the week. Also in the meantime, here's something silly.* But quite brilliant.
*Bonus related fact (which might make more sense after you watch the clip): It's my birthday soon. Just saying.
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