Sat down to write my novel today, fired up Word, went Ctrl+End’ed to the place, and… phoned my Mum for five minutes to pass on a message. I made the ‘mistake’ of sitting down on the sofa, and so Pepper got up immediately, padded around, and settled down, comfortable-like on my lap. I could have turfed him out and got back straight back to the words, those many words. But I didn’t. I phoned Iain and Linzi. I haven’t spoken to them in an age, and it quite took Linzi by surprise when she answered the phone to me. In the end we were on the phone for well over an hour, and had a good catchup.

By the time I got off the phone, the opening 10,000 words of a friend’s novel had turned up, and enticed me to read that, and good though that it is, it’s not writing, so I had to tear myself away from it, and now I’m writing this, and I’m still not writing my novel and now it’s gone half past ten and it’s getting on for bedtime…