Snoooozzzz

Barry is fast asleep on my keyboard, dreaming of cat-typing all through my documents. What he doesn't realise (being asleep) is that I have sneakily unplugged that keyboard and am using another one. Snerkle.

In other news: I have constructed 339 linear feet of shelving. That's the downstairs more or less finished (not counting in the 24 feet of cookbook shelving, which is a special case and I'm not touching that), if only because I have no room to add more. What with unloading all the old shelves and loading up the new, I have had an existential panic that boils down neatly to "OMG I'm going away tomorrow and I've got nothing to read!"

Happily, I spotted Fred Kaplan's biography of Gore Vidal; that should see me through. I like enormous biographies of literary giants. One happy month I read big fat volumes on both Lawrence and Gerald Durrell; spot-the-difference was not half as much fun as spot-the-similarities.

I suppose I should take a work-book too; but, hell, I am actually taking work. That's enough, surely?

For anyone in striking-distance, who wants to come and strike me: we have Write Fantastic gigs at Swindon Litfest tomorrow, Brentford Library on Thursday, Streatham Library on Friday. Details on our website, here.

Also, I am reading on Saturday evening at the Manchester Museum.