After trying, and failing yet again to get some sleep last night, I finally decided that I would rewrite the book I mentioned yesterday. Now I must completely transmogrify chapter two, which is a flashback, containing a plethora, nay a surfeit, in fact a superfluity of the word "had". I hate had. In most cases it's totally redundant but manages to creep into my work and just as I think it's finished, grins and shoves up a middle finger to remind me of my folly.
The only thing is, as I've lost the last hundred or so pages, I'll have to try to remember how it went. Or even write an even better ending than before, which might be difficult since I've forgotten how it went in the fist place. I'll work on it again tonight when I'm not getting even a second's sleep again.
Here's MK 26 of my newest painting. It won't let me stop. Maybe that's why I'm not getting any sleep.
My beloved daughter (allegedly) still says that it's rubbish. And she really knows rubbish as it takes her five minutes to sidle past all the c**p just to get to her permanently unmade bed.