It’s hard work this novel writing lark; especially when trying to do it as part of a month long writing gig. Rather than writing when the fever takes you and when you are inspired, like normal. I am finding it especially hard to write when I am not in the mood. Like right now. I am not actually inspired by the fact that I have come so far so soon. I should be. But such is the fickle muse. You’re always jonesing for more and counting the seconds till she appears again and graces you with her presence.
The weird thing is that I am not at work right now. I took a week off, to use up some leave, take a break and reconnect with my writing and I have found it difficult to do. Perhaps I am too used to writing in a rush on the morning and evening train now, to actually write in a comfy chair, with a selection of good tunes to accompany me etc – as was my usual method. If it gets bad you may find me with a one-day travel card lurking on the train from London to Brighton, just going back and forth….