Oh, the suspense:

England are halfway through the Indians; ten wickets down, ten more to go.

I'm nearly halfway through this novel: 453 words to the contractual mid-point.

I should get there tonight. The way India are batting (finally!), they may keep England out till close of play: which would leave just one more day for England to engineer a collapse and hit off any deficit of runs. I no longer really believe in that scenario.

I on the other hand have to keep this up for weeks yet, and my morale is flagging already. I no longer really believe in this scenario either. It is a turgid mess of a misery of a novel. Halfway through, and I really don't have a clue yet: what's the ambition, what's the mystery, what's the plot. Nuffink. Just endless bloody whining. Oh, and a fiery hand and a feral pig and bells that cut at every stroke, but still. Like patriotism, those are not enough.

C'mon England...

In other news, dinner

I am inventing a whole-chicken curry tonight. I have slathered my bird with a mix of yoghurt and spices (coriander, chilli powder, turmeric, cumin...) and am leaving it to sit awhile; later I will sizzle onions and garlic and ginger and tomatoes with more spices (fenugreek, fennel seed, pepper, fresh chillies, fresh coriander...) and then sit the chicken in the midst of that, slap a lid on and stick it in the oven, see what happens.

I am calling this Chicken Madrassah, because it's sort of Madras-inclined, but I'm just learning. Yo ho ho.

Right now, though, I am going for a walk. Because if I grind my teeth under tension much longer, I won't be able to eat by the time it's cooked.

You're as young as you feel an idiot

So I'm back. And far be it from me to betray a confidence, but a cat who is officially Senior - not to mention possibly a tad on the portly side - should probably not suddenly discover his tail and endeavour to catch same, in the middle of the living-room floor, while I am taking my boots off. It lacks of dignity, it does.

I might have laughed, I might.

Sunday round-up: Book Race!

Okay, people: 'fess up, those who are still hanging in there.

Me, I have written - *does hectic sums* - 13250 words this week, which leaves me neatly here:

 

40018 / 80000 words. 50.0% done!

Not that I quit the moment I crossed that tipping-point, mind you. Oh no, not at all. Natural rounded end-of-passage, I had reached. Whoo, yeah. It's got a blank line after it and everything.

How are the rest of you doing?