Today, I failed.

The last couple of days I've been getting up at 5.30 a.m. - well, actually a little earlier - to try to progress my current W.I.P.. This morning, I didn't manage it. Just too bloody knackered. Hardly surprising really, as I have also not been getting to bed until past midnight most nights. Not so much working on the new one, as frittering away time blogging and myspacing and talking to myself.

I must be getting old. I wrote this book by getting up ridiculously early, in an intense burst of energy one summer not so long ago. But I just don't seem to be able to do it any more.

I just wish there were more hours in the day.