Gawd elp us, one and all By Jan Needle
I wonder if it's the same for Father Christmas. You know what I mean - the speeding up of time. When I was a lad a day was like a week, a day at school more like a term. And as I got older, time began to run amok. This afternoon I was struggling to finish off a novella about Nelson before travelling down to Leicestershire for a pre-Christmas jolly with the rellies. Only about two thousand words to go, and the deadline seemed more than possible. It's got to be done before I leave here, because the village that we're heading for has no broadband to send it off from. Politicians' promises. Aren't they a hoot? The day had been bitty, certainly - but handleable. (Do you like that word: it's not copyrighted). Endeavour Press told me yesterday that Other People's Blood would be going up today (that is, Nov 11) for free until the weekend. I dutifully spent lots of the next few hours twooting and faceboogeringabout and all the other modern jollities. It was...