In the middle of last week I finished the first draft of a novel I've been working on for ages. Of course, I'm not writing much these days, not compared to the amount of time I used to spend writing. But it felt very good to reach this milestone. I'd forgotten how good such things could be.
It's called Cold Killing, and it's the second thriller I've tried to write. I finished the first draft of Remote Control about 1981 and didn't complete it till about 2000. Then the agent I was writing it for turned out to be a crook and the book only sent out to one publisher. The same fate will probably fall to this Cold Killing. But it's good to have something I can footer with every now and again.
The pubs near where I sometimes stay in Newington exploded onto the street with much joyousness when England lost the Euros in the penalty shoot out last night. Hurrah!! They played the whole of the 1966 World Cup Final on the telly the night before. If they'd won last night, we would never have heard the end of it.
