Like...I can edit. I can write blurbs. I can do amusing tweets. But.

This goddamn book was going like a train a fortnight (?) ago, I was on the Big Denouement, and it's slipped through my fingers like sand. https://twitter.com/cadlymack/status/1248120301893763072

I literally can't work out if I'm stuck because the ending in my head is lousy or if it's because *gestures at world*. Blank. Zip.

Whatever. Going to take the plot apart with a wrench now and then mull it over for the long weekend and I *will* nail the fucker.

If all I can contribute during a global pandemic crisis is romance novels, then I'm going to write sodding romance novels if I have to assemble them word by word from random grabs in the Scrabble bag.