Edging

In my slow-readerish way, I'm nearing the end of Catherine O'Flynn's What Was Lost. It's very tense.

Last night, I stayed up late. Locked into the book, resisting the smarter part of me - 'Put it down, you're tired', I learned that there was a historical link between the security guard and the music store duty manager. I learned that the shopping centre has sealed off corridors - this felt like a big detail, a detail to be returned to later. And I've a feeling that there's something about the other security guard - the profoundly dull one - that's, well, not so dull. Maybe he's a red herring. Or maybe I've completely missed what would be blatantly obvious to every other reader - this happens sometimes. I don't know, but soon I'll find out. And when I do find out, then I'll know.

That tension that I mentioned at the beginning, I can feel it in my chest right now.

Maybe it's just a mild heart attack that I'm misattributing.

I don't know what I'll read next. Some Howard Jacobson thing was mentioned by Emma's parents last night. They said they thought that I might like that. Then her Mum said, 'But there's some very rude bits in it... and it's called 'Coming from Behind''. Then Emma and her Mum laughed until her Mum nearly wept a tear. Her Dad and I mirrored slight frowns.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----
UPDATE: Okayyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I finished it. That was clever - bringing that one back into it (not as a baddie, though - and therein lies the clever bit). Of course, it all seems obvious now.

Having noted others' interest in this, in the past, I just had a look at the NaNoWriMo website. As per my attitude towards participatory lexicography, 'Interesting, to be encouraged, but not for me'.