A week of dithering.

I absolutely had to get to grips with ArtRage since it cost me actual money.

    This is what I came up with. A bit cruddy but a start.

    This week, if I get any time, I'm getting back to the writing.
 Sod's Law hasn't come back from my wonderful, fantastic, lovely beta readers yet so I'm continuing with my new one, Snodden. I've come up with an outline meandering towards the ending which is already written in my head.

    Half way through the second chapter I realised with shock that it was turning into a serious book. Couldn't have that. So it's back to a rewrite of the chapter that isn't even finished yet to make it humorous or just plain silly.

    Here's an excerpt of the non silly first version.

The young man stumbled, immediately ducking behind one of the enormous stone pillars in case someone had seen him. It wasn’t the cold or the howling, never ending wind that disturbed him as much as the enormous piles of waste dropped by the eagle sized herring gulls. Somehow the buggers always managed to find a target here in the school pinned in the wilderness between two dales in North Yorkshire. Whoever had built it must have been a nutter for isolation or absolutely insane. Certainly it must have required an especially uncaring parent to sentence their offspring to a hellhole such as this.

    He lingered behind the chipped granite pillar for several more seconds scraping the vile smelling excrement furiously until it was safe to continue. As if chastising him for its own weakness a spirited howl of wind echoed through the gables of the Victorian buildings. He looked up, cringing, almost expecting a tile to crash down. It had happened before. Unfortunately it had not been onto the headmaster, but happily the young recipient had recovered eventually.

    ‘What the hell are you doing here.’ Stanton was not inquiring of the gargoyle glaring down at him. The question was to himself. And it was a good question.