I just had a look at the stats for this blog, because for some reason there's been a blip in the hit rate and I can't think that I've written anything that exciting. Anyway, it turns out that my blog comes up under a keyword search for 'wife naked dancing'. How disappointed must that poor, poor man have been when he found my domestic blatherings instead of footage of some foxy minx doing the rumba (no, I don't really know what a rumba is, either)?
Today, as well as chanelling my inner eighty-nine year old, I hashed out a plot for the rest of the novel, and put it all in a colour-coded spreadsheet. I also put coloured dividers into my manuscript, dividing it up into acts one, two and three (yes, half of two and all of three are empty). It might not seem like much, but it took hours (so long, in fact, that I didn't get round to having a run, and I was almost late for school - luckily one of the other mums passing by in her car took pity on me and let me hitch, which was a good job as I would never have made it in time otherwise), and now I feel a lot less panicky about writing the remaining fifty thousand words...