I have now brought a black bin bag into my study and started to fill it with the detritus that results from writing a novel (at least, in my case). There are sheets of paper with notes scrawled on them. Page numbers jotted on old envelopes, referring to places where things don't connect. There is a huge sheet of paper on the wall - which has a schematic diagram of the novel as I conceived it at the start. (perhaps I should hold on to that and auction it on e-bay if the novel does really well). And there are chocolate wrappers. If emotion is the fuel that drives the narrative, chocolate is the fuel that keeps this novelist going.
And the novel? My wife is kindly proof reading it for me - finding some of the spelling mistakes that result from my dyslexia. Since I don't spell check this blog to the same degree of caution, you will probably have picked up the occasional glitch and will know what I'm talking about.