I've started writing. The new book. I mean actually writing, as opposed to researching and planning, and generally fretting about the damn thing. The first words were scrawled in green ink in a paperblanks notebook in Sable d'Or cafe in Muswell Hill, while I was waiting for my kids to have their back-to-back piano lessons. An hour to kill. One sentence written, and re-written, and re-written and crossed out and abandoned. Then resurrected and reshaped.
Later, at home, other sentences were tried out. Some were modified. Some were ditched. Something like an opening paragraph began to emerge. After that, the second paragraph was easier.
It's a breakthrough. I may carry on.