As Yet Untitled

As I type, I sit in wait of my agent’s opinion of my latest novel. I never realised it was possible to feel sick and excited at the same time before, especially not for this kind of duration. Occasionally I forget, but not for long, and the spike of adrena-nausea that follows is more than enough to make up for that brief respite.

What’s it about then? Can’t tell you for now. I want to. I want to post chapters and stuff like that, but if I do, I might as well put a bell around its neck and get...