Got through the day alive.

What I should say is that I got through the trip to work and back home alive. Let me tell you that if someone (me) is stupid enough to ride a scooter thirteen miles through six inches of snow unscathed, or undead, then everything else is a bonus.

    Whilst waiting for my arms and legs to thaw out I idly scanned the latest edited version of my new novel. You'd have thought that after five edits I would have spotted the fatal flaw. It's just another example of falling in love with one's own words. I'll begin again at the weekend. Perhaps it's too much editing in too short a time. Nevertheless I will produce something to be proud of. Not by Christmas as was my wish but shortly after - probably.

    I did get time at the weekend to fiddle with my new book's cover. I've often wondered through it's many changes, if I should have put some background behind the central image. And after messing about for hours with GIMP discovering how to insert backgrounds finally settled for none.

    My in-house arbiter of taste (she who must be obeyed) has graciously granted her approval and I will reveal it on the day I publish.

    My only concern-ette is the weather. Most of the snow is gone but tonight it's supposed to drop below -40 C or some abominable temperature. So tomorrow all I have to worry about is white ice, black ice and ever other shade in between whilst riding down the most dangerous road in southern England. Wish me luck.