Dreams of 4000 words lie, exhausted, in the mud.

Shortly after midnight I found myself in a research quagmire. I was certain I knew what I wanted to say in the weapons bit of the book. I’d done my research. It was sound intelligence. But when I arrived... nothing, just a few research programmes and a couple of harmless long-abandoned facts in a turkey farm. It’s taken me all night to work out where I went wrong. Turns out I was right all along - I was just looking in the wrong place.

But there’s no sense in regretting the wasted time and effort. In apologising for all those brave, fallen words. They served the book well. But now they’re dead.

Fuck em. Let’s move on.

16,637 words. 3,363 to go. I’m going to go home, go to bed and start early tomorrow. Today.

Today’s another yesterday. And I am the eggman.