I'm afraid my brain melted at around eleven thirty-three this morning and is currently located in a pool around the photocopier. At some point during the day, I may have fed several children to a hungry mayor but it turns out the paragraph was a little topsy-turvy and all came out right in the end....undigested.
Fred currently stands (well, more often sits) at 13,590 words. He's trying hard. He'd appreciate beer, but I'd rather you sent him chocolate.
Other things from this week: back to work after ten days holiday (hence melting of brain); finished the first draft of a short 'Self Portrait of a Dead Girl' and have left it hanging on my memo board washing line (which is a genuine line with jingle bells attached); read J Kathleen Cheney's Afterimage (original published in Baens) - excellent futuristic detective story; ate chocolate (crap, wasn't supposed to admit to that last one).