When the end of a book is in sight, I find it hard to focus on anything else. Which makes it hard to, say, make meals or grocery shop.
Even on a wonderful girls’ holiday, I still found myself coming back to the green notebook, making notes on final scenes, on the big reveal(s), and on those reflective moments that will close the novel.
Although truth be told, I believe that is a half-empty margarita at my feet, so I don’t look too bothered by the work, do I?