How Are The Mighty Fallen

3 April 2014

Various phrases spring to mind eg. How Are The Mighty Fallen, Hoist With My Own Petard, Pride Comes Before A Fall etc. Doubtless there are others but the fact of the matter is that I have finally succumbed to the pressure and broken my Number One rule. Despite the fact that I said I would never do so, I’ve stopped writing and everything literary has come to a grinding halt.

I always knew that the eight week period from 24 Feb to 21 April was going to be difficult. My diary looks like a train wreck, but that’s not unusual. The problem is that it encompasses three individual seven day trips abroad spread evenly over the two months with a couple of weeks between each one. Throw in a couple of Literature Festivals, one of which meant a weekend away, and the whole thing becomes well nigh impossible. I can’t write while I’m abroad and with limited time between trips I can’t settle down when I’m at home. At the moment I’m hardly home from one adventure when it’s time to start another and my writing has suffered as a result.

It began with my trip to Iceland. When DLW (dear lady wife) and friends invited me to go with them I hesitated, knowing of my other commitments. But there comes a time in life when you realise that if you don’t do something, it won’t ever get done, and I guess I’m at that stage now. And with the best season for Northern Lights imminent, I couldn’t say no. I think my pictures from DAY 4 (see below, 19 March) justify my decision.

I actually recovered from this first adventure quite well. I continued to write on my return and picked up AS DAD LAY DYING where I’d left off, completing Part Five (Geoffrey) on Sunday 9 March. Knowing that Part Six was going to be tricky and with Kings Lynn Lit Fest looming, I decided to wait for a clear period before attempting it. But then we were into York Lit Fest for a few hectic days prior to heading off to Morocco for my bi-annual foreign bird-watching expedition. And there was no way I was going to miss that.

Yes, Morocco – and I haven’t even mentioned it! Well, it was wonderful with lots of new and fabulous birds in a new and fascinating country. No time to go into detail now but suffice it to say that I’ve been up the Atlas Mountains, walked the Oued Sous and the Oued Massa and hunted birdlife in both stone and sandy deserts. During the course of which I completely forgot about the fact that I’m supposed to be a novelist and any thought of writing went totally out of my head. I got back on Monday, it’s now Thursday and I’m still trying to catch up.

My next adventure begins a week tomorrow when I set off for Mexico for a major family event. No point in trying to get any writing done in the meanwhile – it would take me a couple of days to ‘get into it’ by which time I’ll be gone again. So I’ve settled for trying to clear as much admin, paperwork etc. in the intervening period so that when I do finally get back after Easter, there won’t be a lot to distract me. Although when I look out of the kitchen window and see my beloved garden which hasn’t yet been touched this year ...

It’s my own fault of course and I can’t blame anyone else. I’m in complete control of my time – or at least I like to think so. And yes, if I had the mental strength I suppose I could have kept on going but in the end the effort required was too great. Life got in the way and I decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

What is he talking about? I hear you say. Three great holidays in the space of two months, what is there to complain about? I don’t mean to sound blasé but it can become wearing, especially when I really want to get down to finishing my current work in progress. And as much as I shall enjoy Mexico and being with my family, I yearn for the time when I can back to my garden and my summerhouse and start writing again. Roll on April 21.