Muddling round with a story that initially made it to an end but needed rounding off and fleshing out and just plain old sense made out of some passages… I still haven’t settled on a title yet but I have settled on an intro/blurb:

Fly west of Siren’s Gate, angle a little north at the Sundae Isles, turn further north at the break of rock marring the ocean’s corduroy crumpling like some mammoth marine creature petrified as it breached and with a little luck you’ll find Whetstone. Thoroughly independent partly due to size and isolation, mostly out of mind-set, the island city-state currently has a dilemma.

And a solution…

They advertise.

Hmmm, intriguing, yes or no? There’s a shapeshifter, the ghost of cocktail parties, a super chic administrator and a excellently bland security agent, rather a lot of symbolism to prove all those years in classrooms wasn’t entirely wasted and a hint of an unrequited love. Or there will be all that, once I’ve finished muddling.