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I remembered when I woke up that I was supposed to be having a Zoom writing meeting with one of the writing buddies I made during NaNoWriMo some years ago. The other couldn’t make it this month.

We caught up with our non-writing-related news and our writing-related news. My biggest was that I got the surname of one of the main characters wrong: it sounded too weak for this character; now he has a harder one. I saw it in the credits of some telly programme I was watching, and realised that’s what this character should be called.

We did a bit of writing together – actually, my buddy edited and I tried to organise. The time flew by.

We discussed how we got on, then talked about how many viewpoint characters there should be and about writing in first person versus third person.

Afterwards, I kept going for a while till Mr Pandammonium needed feeding. We warmed up croissants in the air fryer, and watched a couple of films.

I chose the first one; Mr Pandammonium chose the second one. It turned out they were linked by people being murdered on a bed.

The second one was better than the first. Mr Pandammonium said (yet again) that he’s much better at choosing the film than I am. That may be true, but his war-film-watching must be done when I’m not there. I hate war films, and I hate war.

Our Sunday dinner, which we have at teatime, was brought to us by the magic of the Instant Pot and the Ninja, with an important contribution by New World.

I should’ve written down the timings for everything for next time.