What’s the whole ever-mother-lovin’ deal? A writer manages to get up a head of steam, laying down the lines, only to chug to a halt, looking in the furnace wondering why the ineffective chuffing.

With that little expensive buffet of mixed rail metaphors, let us crack on.

Works in progress:
* A magazine. An actual hard format item. It will also be made available in eBook formats, and will be splendid. It is much closer to completion than this time last year when it was mooted first. That’s what I’ve been doing of an evening. It will have short stories in it, and pictures and conversation.

* Illustrations, actually, that’s been the main thing. Comics. I’ve never drawed, sir, no I ain’t [assuming deprecatory yokel tone] but I been trying, and it’s liberating and frustrating thegither, like simultaneous reproduction in sea slugs, perhaps. Fun! Though.

* About five articles for here, which will burst into the Bath like a fragrant bombe deluxe, or a sock full of custard, more likely.

That is my ten minutes up.

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