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FiftyFive ~ # 55

The beginning and the end of writing something like a novel (above and aside) is the hardest part, I find. Because filling in the middle is easier, you just make a start, babble on for 50,000 words and then sneak up on the ending before it escapes you. And yet, oddly enough the ending I had planned didn't come. Instead a new ending appeared out of the ether, snuck up and bit me on the derriere (well it was écriture wot did it really). And so this week I am bringing it to the final edit (or at least the final edit of this draft) and then we will see where it goes from there. Problem is I now have another two (commissioned) books and assorted papers to write before next May - yikes to that. My fingers already ache so goodness knows what they will be like then (note to self - get them checked out). I have been recommended Glucosamine Sulphate in the first instance - but who knows. I shall consult the doctor before I do. But I guess its all the same symptoms, I already have oesteoporosis so arthritis is bound to follow as I follow this path into the third trimester of my life - ochone, I am crumbling away and better off when I don't think. I don't need proof - Christopher Ecclestone shows how its done!