Doctor Who on Saturday was extremely scary. So scary, in fact, that later that night, I trapped myself in a psychological prison, backed into the corner of my bedroom, phone in hand, scared that if I couldn’t see all of my room, if I turned my back for a minute, scary stone angels would come in and get me. The mind really does create its own prisons. I’m starting to think that perhaps there’s something wrong with me, I mean, I’m 26, I shouldn’t be getting so frightened by TV programmes that I can’t leave a corner of my bedroom for fear of being eaten by a monster. ‘Active imagination’ is one thing; this is just ridiculous.
I have a bit more written for Inter Vivos, though I’m still nowhere near my target word limit for my first draft (I have about 60,000 words to go!). It’s coming along though. I have a few nice character bits for Cyrus, and Nox isn’t as passive as I first thought she was. I’m still having problems moving my characters from one place to another, but I’m working through it, through gritted teeth a lot of the time. I really want to get this first draft finished now. Once it’s done, then I’m going to celebrate! Want to come? ;-)