it's not my fault!

State of the Beta Draft: the dog Stephen Moffat ate my homework.

So, okay, the beta draft is STILL not done. I have swapped panicked moaning for cheerful lunacy and singing like a seagull. It's so much more fun for all involved.

There's an astonishing array of seagull moods available: there's panicked seagull, introspective seagull, pensive seagull, yawping seagull… The list is endless. And the best part of it all is that seagulls are not particularly tuneful birds, so there's very little pressure to perform so far as trivial issues like tone and pitch are concerned. The more jagged and jarring the better!

I tried to finish the beta draft last night, honest I did, but I couldn't. It's all that Moffat bloke's fault.1 There I was, humming (un)tunefully in the manner of a lovesick seagull, when the TV starts up with Jekyll.

Interesting, I'd thought on seeing the ads, but potentially sleep-depriving.2 Then my friend tells me it's written by Moffat, who wrote that amazing weeping angels episode of the third season of Doctor Who, not to mention the gas-masked child episode of the first season of Doctor Who and the girl in the fireplace episode of the second season. Moffat story! I think. No matter how scary it might be, I must watch. I will, I think (by now I'm a virtuous seagull, you see), work on the revisions at the same time.

I tried. I couldn't. The show was too good, and I had to pay attention — and honestly, I'd be done now if that Moffat bloke couldn't write.

  1. Okay, some of it might be the novel's fault. If the thing would just stop growing, I might not have needed to spend 11 hours each on Saturday and Sunday wrestling with it without actually finishing. []
  2. I am, you see, particularly easy to terrorise. []