One night away in a hotel (for my husband's birthday) and after weeks of a head jammed full of life and day-job the story ideas are creeping in again - hooray!
I was beginning to wonder if my imagination had packed up and retreated into the back of my skull to hide from everything pressing in on it - I wouldn't have blamed it at all - but, no, it still seems to be there. I have already packed my pad and pen to take on holiday with me in anticipation of my poor brain making up for lost time and spouting plots and characters at me once everything else has receded and been replaced with huge decisions like which cocktail to choose. Bliss!
The trouble is, my husband and friends keep asking me when I'm going to finish/write my novel and the answer seems to be that there's not much chance of being able to do it while I'm working full time. I'm afraid that for me to write anything other than short stories, life needs to be less frenetic - and I don't see that happening! At least I get the school holidays off, which I know is more than many of my writer friends have. It will just have to be written in drips and drabs and I'll be about 70 when I finally get it finished... :-)
Have a good few weeks, everyone - no more from me until August now!