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Oh yes indeedy.

Twas a dark and stormy afternoon. The wind howled in the chimney. Ice rained down across the forests and the moors as I sat down on my sofa and started writing and three hours and twenty minutes later, it was fixed; that twisty-turny plot that’s been giving me lip since July. Done. Dusted, even. This is bringing me great joy.

And it’s practically Christmas! I’m watching Morecambe and Wise!

I may have been drinking. Do not judge me.

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