I spent much of yesterday putting together a book review for my Early Norman Yorkshire module, and found out that I seem to be incredibly argumentative when faced with the work of other historians. Faced with a work I know to have been very influential over at least a few of the last fifteen years, I couldn't resist the urge to pick holes in the arguments. Maybe that's just me. On the other hand, since this is being marked, I should probably find something nice to say too.
I've also started noticing that I tend to do different types of work at different points in the day, possibly as a way of keeping them separate. I'll usually do academic work earlier in the day while fiction tends to happen later on. As for poetry, it mostly seems to have confined itself to ungodly hours of the night. Is there a poet in the world who hasn't occasionally written on insomnia?
And now I suppose I should explain the title. It's very simple really. Last monday I accepted a challenge from some (apparently quite odd) friends, to try and get the words 'zombie sofa' into the novel. I have now successfully done so. What's slightly worrying is how well they fit.