Journal #11

This week I was in Paris. A fantastic city, if there ever was one. We had sun, we had good company, and we had good food. It was the usual tourist’s run of the sights, interspersed with a visit to the Louvre which seemed to last an age despite its fascinating collections, and the entirely serendipitous discovery of the Sacré Cœur — something we hadn’t heard of beforehand whatsoever.
Being students, we rented a room in an apartment owned by the most stereotypical French middle-aged bachelor you could imagine. We also took the Megabus route there and back — an eleven hour slog that may encapsulate everything I picture hell to be. Though I’d definitely do it all over again.

I could bore you, reader, to death with further detail, but I think it’s best to keep the rest to myself, for the rest is what made it my trip, and mine alone. Suffice to say I took a great many shoddy photographs, and breathed Parisian air; a time I’ll never forget.

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Little old me and the Eiffel Tower. Don’t you just love the squinting old lady in the background?

In other news, I’m battling my way through examination preparations. That’s university life for you. My writing and reading time is being eaten into, inevitably, but I’m still putting my arse in the chair and churning out the words. Thanks to some careful fine tuning, my daily quota hasn’t taken any kind of sizable hit. Our Fair Eden, my WIP novella, is started to shape up, and I can now say with some confidence that the first draft will clock in at somewhere between 40,000 and 50,000 words. From then on, I expect the subsequent drafts to knock that down to somewhere close to 30,000. But time will tell on that front.

I’ve also been asked to take part in a blog tour. There’ll be a separate post on that later, but I’m certainly excited to have the opportunity. Hopefully it’ll allow me to get to know a few more fellow writers out there on the net.

Well, pip pip, back to work. Be good, boys and girls.

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