In the fifty years since I read that opening scene of A Bear Called Paddington, there probably haven’t been two hundred days when I didn’t write something or at least prepare to write something. Recently I bought a Fitbit. It kept telling me that I was falling asleep between eight and eleven in the morning. But I wasn’t asleep; I was writing. Apparently writing is the time when my heartbeat is truly at rest; when I feel right with myself.
