This morning saw me finishing revisions and corrections to Joe Hunter seven, No Going Back, based on a line edit by my wonderful editor, Sue Fletcher at Hodder and Stoughton. It served me well, getting my head back into the Joe Hunter-sphere - a place I hadn't really trod since October last year. It was good to be back and hear Joe's voice in my head once more, and it has enthused me to knuckle down and get on with his next adventure.
However, there were first a few neglected chores to see to, so (reluctantly) I joined my good wife in the garden to trim back a vine that has grown to magnificent proportions and was threatening to engulf both our house and the building next door. Like Joe Hunter, I've had a few dodgy moments in my life, one of them which has left me with an equally dodgy knee, so going up a ladder wasn't my most favourite chore of the day. Needs must though and I set to it with minimal moaning (you should hear me on a good day!), and got stuck into the vine with a vengeance. Sacoteurs aren't men's tools. I'm not even sure I can spell the word correctly never mind use them with deft aplomb. I elected to the mannish approach of ripping and tearing the vine from limb to limb, battling valiantly. The problem is - unless you're Alan Titchmarsh - gardening and authoring should never be mixed. Cue blisters and a beautiful blood bleb the colour of my frost reddened cheeks. But the job's done and behind me, and I can now settle down to writing with a clear conscience (but sore hands).
Do you understand the self-sacrifice I put myself through to bring you Joe's latest adventure? ;-)
p.s. I'm seriously thinking of insuring my 'typing finger'.