Monday, May 25, 2009

Sun bath, writer's book and dinner.

Hi everyone. I've got a bit behind with posting, and with my inbox because I'm ill (sore throat that has migrated down to a chest infection -- yuck). So if you wrote to me and I haven't replied, or if you should have been added to the Roll of Honour by now, I'll be with you in due course.

1. He puts the deckchair out so I can sit half in sun and half in shade.

2. I picked up Russel T. Davies' book, Dr Who: The Writer's Tale (finally, Clare. What took you so long?) Even with brain preoccupied with deploying antibodies and maintaining white blood cell morale, I'm taking in so much about the writing process. I am always thrilled to read books about writing by respected writers. I find myself thinking 'yes, yes, this is how it is. This is what I feel, too. That's what I'm trying to do.'

3. 'Dinner's ready', he calls. And it's waiting for me on a plate.

Dress, drink and catch-up.

1. Walking out of the theatre, I hold his hand so he's not tempted to bolt across the swirly carpet into the forest of legs. We agree th...