It’s lunchtime, I think.

Surprise, it’s time to eat!

I’ll have an apple and a sandwich from the station around the corner. There’s not so much I can write without descending into inanity, so I might as well accept the inevitable and be as pointless as life allows me (too much leads to untimely death – everybody knows that).

I’ve been trying to put words to my novel – about a word a day. A sentence on good days. My method of creative writing does not lend well to a structured narrative. It is disjointed, like the headless horseman walking into every tree. I imagine the last thing will write, when the first draft is finally over, will be the introduction. I find the beginning a nightmare. 

What is my novel about?

The future. Blogging. Birth/death. Anonymity. Memes. The internet. We’ll see. It’s constantly changing – and so does the online world. 

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