It’s been busy, silly busy, but at last things are slowing down a bit. Well, they’re not because I’m filling the tiny spaces in time with other things, as per usual, but at least I’m managing to get some writing done again.
Writing is so much fun. It’s like I’m let loose with my subconscious and anything can happen. Of course, there are parameters: I’m writing for 7-12 year olds and I need to remember that and not write about Kierkegaard, and I have a nebulous idea of where the story is going and what’s going to happen and I know in the back of my mind that I need to blinking well get on with it because the publisher is waiting, but otherwise, it’s like going to an inflatable play zone with my mind. I’m constantly amused and entertained (and sometimes worried about myself), and I love that.
I’ve also been doing some reading and researching and making connections between me, other people, the things around me in the world and the world of ideas and imagination that lie beyond, and it’s so fascinating, I’m having trouble sleeping. My brain is fizzing and foraging and going but what about THIS? And THAT? HAH! and my conscious mind is being an old-fashioned nanny and saying, ‘that’s quite enough now brain, settle down or I won’t take you for a stroll in your perambulator this eventide.’
Plus the sun is shining, which makes all the difference because it makes you feel like dancing with your daughter to Beyoncé (done) and making birthday cakes (going to do) because she’s turning 18 today and that’s just the maddest thing you’ve ever heard. But I must get back to writing or that book will never leave the inflatable play zone.