A writer’s holiday

I’m back…

After a self-indulgent two months’ break, I’m back at work.

“Two months!”, you’ll say. “You’re not a serious writer! No one who does actual work can afford to take 2 months off in the middle of the year…”

Well, try it before you diss it. There’s nothing like a good long break to carry out the all-important thinking work we authors do.

Two months of wondering why it is always that character you think of. Why that storyline is so plain boring that you’d rather focus on peeling carrots than figure out how to improve it.

Two months to listen to casual feedback from readers and to ponder on their words of wisdom. Two months to be electrified by a snippet of news or a nugget of info that would fit just so into some plot hole.

Two months to just miss writing. Yes, try before you diss it: it’s done me a world of good.

… and I’ve got a desk.

Now, that is the exciting piece of news (relatively speaking!).

For years, I worshipped at the altar of ‘work anywhere’, with my laptop precariously perched on my crossed legs (oh, the pins and needles…) or propped up in my lap while I leisurely reclined in a sofa or – yes, I admit it – a bed.

This served me well. I wrote three books like this, often late in the night, and I relished the impromptu-ness and casualness of the activity.

From now on, I’m trying something new. I’ve tidied the office where my husband works on the rare occasions when he works from home, and where we dutifully keep our 10 years worth of paperwork.

At least, I tidied the top of the desk (see pictures)!

How is that working for me? We’ll see, but let me give you a hint: I’m writing this on my sofa, in my pajamas with a dog blanket across my lap for warmth.

Oh dear, all the clues lead to one conclusion… Perhaps, I’m not a serious writer!

All you writers out there, listen to your 6th sense and sing your own special song. No one can sing it but you.

With love,

Florence 

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