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I can really see, more likely imagine I can see, that first line Sean:

'Today began much as yesterday. Normal for me I had breakfast, washed up, took a walk around the pond in the park and then spent three solid hours writing, as usual, something truly awful . . . '

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Then 3000 pages later the Proustian ending informs the reader that they've just read the product of all those days of awfulness.

Form an orderly queue, agents and editors.

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