|
|
Young Mr Stoat;
While I wouldn't necessarily recommend fresh air and exercise, I gather that once you've published a novel the ladies (or in my case, handsome young men of an Italian persuasion who can see 'the inner you') pretty much queue up round the block. At least, this is my understanding.
So I'd be inclined to be getting on with that, were I you. Basically, 500 words a day/night (and it's all right to drink beer while you're at it,) and before you know it the thing will be done.
If this seems a bit insensitive, you should bear in mind that both my son and my grandson were sent to Gordonstoun school for men from the age of three onwards, largely at my behest, and that as a result ... ok, that's a bad example.
But, um ... Oh well, you know what I mean. |
|
|