Perhaps it's the enforced solitude of the snow (which I secretly love), but have just written a new and very mad character - even for me. The moral maybe comfort-eating can kill, in more ways than one. (And this time it's definitely not about chocolate.) Am planning to do a short monologue at the Hull BUDS in new year, so the demon may get excorsized.
Weird how the snow comes and us being so rubbish at keeping mobile through it, we're suddenly plunged into this very interesting and rare world of hush outside.