Good Times

On Youtube, there's an album version of the fabulous Chic tune 'Good Times'. I listen to it often. Even though it's an upbeat tune, there's an ever-so-slight wistfulness about it - like Donna Summer's Dinner With Gershwin, for example, or Jacko's Rock With You - that seems to grab me so hard.
It's that 'grab' I've been searching for lately. I still haven't written the new version of chapter two. Nothing sinister: I waited a long time before writing the prologue, which still seems a trifle unfinished compared to chapter one. There's lots of work still to be done, and I'm edging closer to achieving it.
The whole book is my goal. I understand that now - there seems to be no good reason for sending it off half-written. The end of it is a long way away. But who cares? I certainly don't, as I love writing it... when I'm actually writing it.
I'm pretty certain no-one's written what I'm writing. Not that it means too much, I guess, but at least it seems to be different. Gotta hope it works first, otherwise originality will be lost.
It's beginning to hurt, though, knowing I have to write it, to make it all work. That, for me, is a good thing. If I feel no pain, then I feel nothing.
The spirit of Dickens lives!
Living off the wall...