but o it is late... still, coffee coursing thru veins, wiley's 'treddin' on thin ice' in my headphones, let's begin (again):
good news is: the play's finished. Back to the Sea (Second Draft). fifty-four excruciating pages, nineteen thousand words pulped and squeezed from my marrow. i know it doesn't sound like a lot, but bear in mind they're the right words, in the right order (mostly. hopefully.)
bad news is: it's become increasingly obvious that there will have to be a third draft. i've grafted on the revamps, and it's fine, it's good, i'm happy with the gist of the transition. it works. basically. mechanically. now i need to go back, erase any evidence, build a better synthesis.
good news is: this won't take long. as long as you're advancing down the right track, each revision should be another diminishing return. once i return to it, in a week or so, i'd estimate two weeks, tops before it's ready.
bad news is: i have been wrong before.
good news is: i got the job. is ludicrously flexible.
bad news is: moving again. financial crash around the corner, the stress and strain of uprooting.
bad news is: no weekend, bank holiday to speak of, busy. but writing = its own reward, annd i wouldn't change it. still... even saturday night failed me, unexpectedly. was bored at the side of the dance floor. couldn't escape sense of pointlessness.
good news is: i am in control. i have more to say. things are happening. will save more news for next time. o it is late... but not too late.