Reports Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
Apologies one and all, for my prolonged absence. I have, as I am sure you've guessed, been kidnapped by unscrupulous men - claiming to be book publishers, and forced to work in a brothel. I am chained to a word processorr in a back street, somewhere in the south of England. My cell mate -Terry Waite is saying his prayers...again and my captors have nipped to Asda to buy Special Brew, - So here I am. If I break off suddenly, it's because I have heard their Morris Minor pulling up outside.
The fact of the matter is, I am writing a novel. Finally, irrevocably...I is attemptin' to be an author. It's going well. Twenty Three thousand words and rising. Of course, twenty thousand of these will probably be crap. The 'ands' and the its' are very good though.
Once I have emptied my brain of 'Bad Light' - as I may well be calling it, I shall resume regular blogging.
So my friends, fellow travellers and ghosts of cyber space, enjoy the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and don't be degraded in the workplace