The idea was to occupy a comfortable log cabin in the middle of Snowdonia, and combine both a writing retreat with a family holiday. Unfortunately, there turned out to be two things wrong with the actuality of that plan – the weather – it rained, hard, every day, and there was nowhere for me to write. I have found, yet again, I need my comfortable desk and my Italian leather office chair on front of it to write. I can’t sprawl on a bed, or balance a laptop on my lap and write, and the dining table and chairs were just too uncomfortable.
As a result writing productivity dropped off, and I’ve only managed to hit 5,320 words in the entire week. I just couldn’t find anywhere in the cabin to sit and write comfortably. I also discovered something else, I guess I already knew – I need solitude to write. I can’t work with other people in the room, and I can’t work when I can hear the TV in the next room, either. I don’t need total isolation, just the absence of distraction. When we’re at home, this is something I can manage for long enough each day, but when we’re away, it becomes an impossibility.
Still, I’m well ahead of the curve in writing terms – and I have managed to bring one unwanted present home from Wales – a cold. No it’s not man-flu, but it’s a cold and it’s making me feel very woolly headed indeed.