As I was lurching up the side of what felt like a cliff face this morning on my daily run, I had an idea. It was so brilliant I just had to stop. Much to the amusement and loud chuckle of a bionic teenager effortlessly scaling the steep hill like I would have done thirty years ago.
My immediate impulse to chase and dismember him was overcome by my idea. It was a completely new and hopefully more entertaining way of beginning my new novel. Without spoiling it for any future readers, I had planned Kongomato, not kongomato 1, just Kongomato as a one-off. This left me in a quandary for the opening stages of the next one.
I think and hope I've done it. What better way of arresting waning interest is there but with some blood and guts. It's a dirty job but someone has to do it since as it is a horror, so people have got to die - preferably in as many exotic and varied ways as my feverish, if not to say sick, mind can come up with.
As soon as I hobbled home I managed to get 6 thousand words down before my family came back, wondering what all the gruesome laughter was about as I typed.
Now 30 thousand words in, it's taking shape nicely - I hope.