It was always said that a gentleman's hat told the story of his life. So whenever she entered the cloakroom she would always stare up at them. Row upon row of tarnished silk would beam back at her, most of them as black as moles, but the odd flourish of shimmery mustard or auburn would catch her eye, and it was these she dreamed about the most.
Must report a bit of a splurge. I've decided to get my mitts on No Plot? No Problem! which was written by the guy involved with setting up NaNoWriMo. I'm intrigued by his ideas about just blasting on with your writing and not getting hung up on perfecting things (my Achilles' heel). Hopefully some of the advice in there will slap some sense into me - I'm slowly getting better at quickly writing up the random little snippets in these posts, but I do still catch myself spending far too long agonising over certain words at times. Alas. Though I admit that using an online thesaurus is helping to remedy that - so there's something to be said about using such tools to aid you in moving things along more quickly. Must remember that. I suppose it might be an idea to collect all these helpful little tips together so I can refer back to them if I ever wander off course - but that's something to put together another day...
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