Back Again…

Well I’m back, and I’m glad. Taking a break  from the blog over the last couple of months, although a very good idea, left me feeling a little cold and on occasion, paranoid. After the first month I felt unsettled. I began fretting and doubting. Would I lose my voice? Would my imagination seize up like an old Victorian mill? The wheel broken and rusted, the spokes forgotten under a layer of thick moss. I liken my imagination to a well stretched bicep. What of its tone when autumn returned? Would it sag from lack of inspiration?

But it was hard knuckling down to any writing over the holidays, especially with a four-year old in tow. She came first. She always comes first. I wrote character monologues for my novel the odd evening, touched base with my mentor, but all in all that was about it. I think I am going to have to accept that summer will never be a great time for words. And besides, there was so much I wanted to read as well. The big summer read this year was The Goldfinch. Blimey, it took ages… personally, I think it could have done with a sharper (and more brutal) edit, but hey ho. There were parts I glossed over, and others I thought genius, but honestly, I found my patience wanting with all the intricate minutiae on furniture restoration, although I did love Hobie (there was something of Dumbledore about him )…  and if the story had been better edited, I think the ending’s beauty could have made for a far more wondrous treat. As it was, I was quite relieved to reach the final sentence. Another novel I enjoyed was The View On The Way Down by Rebecca Wait who I had the pleasure of meeting at the Latitude Festival in July. She was reading an excerpt from her book, and we had a little chat afterwards. I found her lovely and engaging. Just hope I didn’t overwhelm her with all my questions. My enthusiasm does have a tendency to run away with itself.

The very best thing I did for my writing this summer was a trip to IKEA.  Yes, a trip to the land of yellow and blue. And now, at long last, I have my own little writing bureau that sits (for the time being) under the mirror in the living room, and I love it, really, really love it.  I’d been hungering after one for a while. It makes such a difference having a dedicated space that isn’t the kitchen table. I love the ritual of opening the lid, preparing myself for the day, and then shutting it again before bed, like a good feng shui full stop; better than the tilting pile I’d leave behind on the other table. I have a cubby for note books and one for general administration. I also purchased a smart grey table lamp that sits on the top. I am really rather pleased. Guess I’m one happy writer all ready and set for the autumn…

Writing Bureau

Writing Bubble

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