Life interrupts art. Tonight I was planning on restarting the writing process. I’d just given myself a couple of weeks off to spend time with the kids and relax (half term.) I was really looking forward to tonight, looking forward to the rumble of keys and the red slash of stuttering words across the screen. Things don’t always work out how we’d like or even as we’d planned especially when you have a family. I read somewhere, in a list of things to do to be a successful writer, that you shouldn’t get married or have kids, two things I’ve already done and have no wish to change. They were probably right in that you are freer to spend your time as you wish but I found that when I was single and childless I had nothing to say, well nothing that was worth saying anyway. It’s now that I have people around me, people I care about, people who need my support and who support me that I have the strength and desire to write. So I spent tonight talking to my little boy (and then worrying about him) and not talking through the characters I’ve created. The book will still get written, it’ll just take a few more days now.