I’m stuck. The WIP is sitting on about 88K and has done for the last two weeks. And now the insomnia has kicked in again. It’s 2.30 am. I’m sitting here wide awake with a glass of wine, staring out the window at the clouds drifting at breakneck speed across a winter dark sky. So far I’ve seen three shooting stars.

I think it’s because I can’t quite see the end. I feel like I should – this novel was only supposed to be about 90K. But I feel like I’m still only 2/3 of the way through the story and there is so much work still to do.

These clouds are terrifying. I feel like I’m watching a herd of fabulous beasts running hell-for-leather towards some purpose I can’t even guess at, and they’re far too vast and I’m far too insignificant for them to notice me standing here, head tipped back, wide-eyed and wondering.