Writing Away from Home

I seem to write more when I'm not at home.

I write more, I think more clearly and I sleep like I've been switched off. And I'm not talking about a going-off-by-myself-and-severing-contact-with-the-world-writing-retreat kind of experience. (Though I'd like to give that a whirl sometime.)

I've just spent three nights with friends and family and even though it was fun and busy I had some great writing sessions and made significant progress with my current story.

Despite the thrills and spills of the Winter Olympics, that got my heart going like the clapper on a cowbell, some committed movie watching, walks with the dog, long suppers, having a crossword on the go - despite all this, I was able to write. I wrote early in the morning, in the afternoons, in the evenings and had a couple of four am writes after which I went back to bed and slept like someone hit with a mallet.

It's been an extraordinary few days starting with torrential rain the day we arrived (the field opposite the house would have made a good location set for a film about Paschendale) followed by a blue-sky day where the sun felt warm and my son swam in the river. Then, this morning we woke up to a world whitened by frost.



It is, nonetheless, good to be home and I'll be back to my usual writing routine tomorrow - hopefully it'll go just as well as at the start of the week.