I am hiding in the Cotswolds. I have run away from home. After two years of trying, I’ve discovered that it is next to impossible for me to write my own book in my own house, surrounded by client work, family, a dishwasher that needs unloading, and a million other potential distractions.
So far I’ve managed by escaping to the library on Saturday mornings. But this weekend I’ve booked myself into an Airbnb cottage and just for this weekend I’m doing nothing other than writing my book. Except blogging and running, of course. Here’s the blog, and now I’m off for the run.