By the time this goes out, my almost-sixteen-year-old should have finished taking his GCSEs. Thirteen of them. His choice. I’m only pushy when I remember and in this case, I was distracted by those headaches. Interestingly, he seems to be happier overburdened.
Anyway, just Statistics to go. I’ve already started celebrating. I’ve had 3 hot chocolates and watched Great British Sewing Bee today. That’s how we party around here.
Time will tell whether he’d done enough for that 50lb steak at Funky Gorilla. We would reward him for hard work rather than results if there was a better way of telling he’d done any. Lying in bed revising, and lying in bed playing computer games look pretty much the same.
To change the subject, I am about 10,000 words from the end of this draft of Fin and Emma 1. I say it feels in good shape, but there are quite a few people called X or Y at the moment.
And because of the time it’s taken me to tell this story, half the novel is now set in a real place 500 miles away that has moved buildings since I worked there. I can’t work out whether it’s on the second, seventh, or eighth floor.
Note for fellow writing geeks: I’ve already started some of the work on details, creating a series binder as I go in Scrivener.
sophie beal 