Anyway. I'm now up to 16,000 words, which allows me to go for lunch. I'm going to wander down to the harbourside, where some of the book is set, to take some research photos, and see if I'm remembering correctly that there are still a few points where it's possible to fall off the harbour wall into quite deep water without such things as railings getting in the way.
Favourite line of the morning:
“So, the guy’s really, like, dead?” Domingo asked, his accomplished drug-dealer image slipping back to reveal a scared twenty five year-old.
“About your height, long curly black hair, big nose?” I described.
“That’s the guy.”
“Then either he’s dead, or he hired Tim Burton as his stylist.”
