My bedside disaster area is getting out of hand again. The pile of magazines and paper is now actually higher than the bedside table itself, and the heaps of books that lean against this pile are at a more or less matching height. I think something has to be done in the next few days or it'll all end in tears.Sorry there haven't been any posts this last few days. You could say my mind is a bit like my bedside... a teetering pile of unsorted information. I have been crossing stuff off my to-do list, but it just seems as if as fast as I do this, I add new items, so I never get to the end of it. But I suppose that's a writer's life? I'm sure there are writers who sit at a clutter free desk, with their business paperwork in an A-Z filed filing cabinet and with all their books on mahogany bookshelves in an office with a harmonious garden view... but I bet there are more out there who function in various stages of hyper-chaos, the way I do... I could say it's part of the mythos of being a 'bohemian artiste', but that's just pretentious claptrap... what it really boils down to, in my case, is the mythos of being an idle, disorganised slob. :)
Anyway, my naughty Marquis story is moving ahead, at a modest pace... Christian is the type of male character I love. Dominant, but humane, aware of his own foibles and not prone to taking himself all that seriously. He's a sort of blend of Mr Stone and Valentino, but with a title and a crumbling old moneypit of a stately home.
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