I have written bugger all this week. Keep planning on getting down to it, but there are so many distractions. Royal Ascot with its wealth of the best thoroughbreds in the country, ladies in great outfits, those in not so great outfits and just the great camaraderie that goes into organizing the most important race meeting in the British Isles.
Prefer the sticks myself. Much more adrenalin pumping with the crash of the birch. Different people, different jockeys etc.
Started on a poem with a deadline of just over a week, got stuck on a short story that is a load of old bollocks at the moment, and keep hoping that something or someone else walks into my life to inspire me and kick start where I have left off.
It's bedtime, good book time. One of the joys of being on your own is that you put the light out when you are good and ready and not when you are bullied into it by huffs and puffs and deep sighs. That's not to say that the prospect of having a warm loving person doesn't appeal. OH, I'm rambling, it's mid summer, and so far it hasn't been anything to get too excited about, I just hope that when I buzz off to Scotland again next month it stays half decent. Best get booked in somewhere to break the journey. I hate the A1, it is such a shitty road, stuffed with lorries that shove their way out and then go nowhere.
Finished the book I was reading last night. It beats me how some of these authors manage to sell so many books. The end was predictable from about the second page. I kept reading it thinking it's going to take a turn for the better, but you know what, it didn't, yet I still read the bloody thing til the end. And she's published Gawd knows how many books. How many have I published?...Er, well, none or 1, depending on how you look at it.
One E book, so best shut up and stop criticizing someone who sure as hell has achieve more than I have ...so far!!!
Must do's for tomorrow, finish crappy short story, and possibly bin. Work on poem, have a swim, and write to my pal. Bonsoir.