2011 is four days old and I have written more than I did nearly all of last month. This is not going to last, this momentum, but hopefully the discipline to work at things daily does. AoF continues to grow. It’s dreadfully wordy, but come March or April I should be in a position to start hacking away.

Edward I is doing all right, too. Currently taking the Douglas Adams approach: writing individual scenes, free-floating, and then will decide what the structure should be after I have about 200 pages of stuff– 70 or 80 to chuck, the rest to trim and swap around.

On New Year’s Day I dragged myself out of bed– no hangover, just a bad mattress at my friends’ place putting my back out of joint (I’m amazed their daughter isn’t crippled). I ran about 4 miles through the Warwickshire countryside. Cold, and with what they like to call a “heavy dew” falling from the sky. There was that particularly grim wetness to the ground that comes after snow has melted on it.

A horse leaned over its fence railing towards me, hopefully, I thought, even though I was zooming by on the opposite side of the road. It might have been looking for a carrot or a sugar lump or a hand warmer. It might have wanted to convert me to its religion. He looked a little evangelical: bony-faced and dour.

But most horses are like that, I guess.