Just kidding.

I have exciting news! I have written half a page of my first novel (before you scoff, it was an entire PAGE handwritten) which is currently all the prologue I've got in me, and I'm now taking a well-deserved break. In a few moments I'll go downstairs and hunt around the kitchen for scraps until my mother is thoroughly annoyed and possibly whacks me with a wooden spoon.

I feel like chicken. I wonder if we have chicken.

Okay, I really want to get this novel out. So many things seem to be tied up with it. Me not having to have a job for the rest of my life besides this, and possibly more or possibly less importantly, me being able to make a youtube account. Because hopefully people will actually want to watch my stupid face speaking if I've written a novel first ... right? Also, I'm planning to save up the money to open a bookstore that will make very minimal profit because I want to use it to donate to charity. High aims. It will, of course, probably not happen. But I can dream happy dreams, and I really hope it DOES happen because all those books will soothe me when I'm forty and unmarried.

Sob, splutter, choke, sob.

Mm, pins and needles in my foot. How I love pins and needles in my foot.

Okay well, I have the prologue, I've planned out all the subplots and I'm sure more will spring from the earth as the novel advances. I haven't planned my chapters because I secretly fear that if I do that I'll get utterly bored of this book and stop writing it and IT NEEDS TO GET WRITTEN.

So adieu, I will now stop procrastinating and ... write. Or read. Or eat food and read. Or possibly watch youtube ...