Writerly meetings

I had a meeting with my dissertation supervisor today.  All in all, I think it went quite well.  I don't have an urge to sit in a corner and weep, so it's definitely an improvement on the last one.  (Okay, this might be a little bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point)

I came away with a bit of a sore throat, though.  This shows two things:

1) I did at least have some input, whether useful or otherwise, as opposed to sitting and nodding at random intervals as I think I have a habit of doing

and

2) I really am too much of a hermit if talking for less than two measly hours is enough to wear my throat out.

And said sore throat must be from the meeting, and the chat afterwards with Boz, because I engaged in surprising few obscenity-screaming sessions on the motorway on the way home.  It wasn't too bad today: a couple of people even flashed to let me in.  It's the small things that make me feel all warm and fuzzy about mankind.  How easily pleased I am.

Anyway, back to the point (yes, there is one floating around here somewhere) - the meeting with my supervisor helped make me feel slightly more confident about the academic worth of my piece.  I also now have a vague idea about how I'm going to approach the accompanying essay.  Note the vague part: let's not go crazy, after all.

I'm still carrying on with the writing of the story beyond where I reached for the dissertation, though my writing splurge has slowed to more of a trickle.  Oh well, at least the river hasn't dried up completely.  And now I'm going to stop with the metaphor.

Chapter 26 has been started and I ought to try and finish it tonight, which will probably end up being tomorrow.  I don't really have a valid reason for this prophesised laziness/incompetence, apart from the fact that my latest Lovefilm disc has been sat on my desk for too many days now and I should probably send it back fairly soon.

I've managed to finish Cassandra Clare's City of Bones.  It was quite good: not fantastic but certainly not awful.  I really got into the last sixty pages or so - in that must-read-it-don't-care-about-dinner kind of way - but I don't have any desire to go hunting out the sequels.

Right, time to stop waffling.  Wish me luck.