Writing

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I’m attempting to re-edit my first novel after changing the ending, and I’ve opened a huge can of worms. The rest is silence. Particularly from the worms.

Meanwhile there’s been a standoff between me and a small but persistent mouse. I set traps full of chocolate and it managed to sneak the goodies out of the tray without tripping the mechanism. I was sitting on the sofa doing a spot of editing and it crawled out from behind a cabinet, stuck two fingers up at me and ran into the bathroom. I followed immediately but it had disappeared so I shut the door, sealing the gap with a towel. I trained snipers on it, stockpiled grenades and amassed a backup of ten highly trained armed men and it still managed to get out to rummage in my fruit bowl. If I ever catch it, I’m going to employ it as my agent.