I’m getting to the end of my latest student group and it is time to peer with bleary eyes over the mounds of papers, course books and forms and wonder where my writing space has gone. I am horribly untidy unless I keep a very tight grip on things – possibly something to do with the dyspraxia. When I put something down or even stop paying attention to it, it simply disappears. As a consequence my work space gets smaller and smaller until I am balancing my keyboard on a pile of stuff – and stuff is the enemy of a clear mind and a happy imagination.
So today I am declaring war on all this stuff, hoping an hour spend tidying will be worth a week’s writing tomorrow. At least, that is the theory… I may be some time.

My Achilles heel strikes again – issues with the time line. So many threads running through this new book and I’ve gone back to lay them out properly in a plan. This, of course, I should have done (and meant to do) right at the very start. Well, it’s fairly well sorted now and suddenly I can see my way through to – the ending I always had in mind.

Onwards, through the Levels and hoping to arrive safely on the other side.

It’s the middle of February, unseasonally warm up here and I find myself back at my computer after I’ve already finished my words for the day, after all my research is done and printed, waiting for tomorrow – here I am. Suddenly the story grabs me and I can’t leave it. Not tonight, not just here – I have to say these things, get the exact words echoing around my skull out before they drift off, fade into the distance. Thank goodness for the dogs. The first time this happened I was rushing, frantic to complete a submission for the MA at Teesside and I got up from my desk at 10.30pm, walked the dogs and then kept typing until 3am. They lay on the couch, muttering a bit but finally fell asleep. It was only the next morning I realised I’d forgotten to feed them. Still feel guilty….

SOTD for obsessives – Einaudi, “Nightbook”

The Carnival (always with a capital letter in Somerset) and squibbing are both major events in the town of Bridgwater and really do have to be seen to be believed. Anyone curious about squibbing might like to watch this video:

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for a taste of what it is like. The noise of the crowd and the heat and smoke add to the atmosphere. I have been in the crowd many years ago and it is a terrifying and exhilarating experience.

Poor old Alex is having a bit of a hard time…. Strange goings-on out on the Levels are unsettling her friends and clients and seem connected to new problems amongst the young men “with their hard eyes and crude letters tattooed on their knuckles, their suspicions and the scorn with which they treated this, their last chance”. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, her family are pestering her to do something about their mother who is suddenly acting very oddly indeed.

The sequel to “Death of the Elver Man” is progressing nicely. Provisionally titled “The Drowners“, it takes up the story six weeks after the ending of “Death of the Elver Man”. Once more set in the unique landscape of the Somerset Levels and surrounding area, it features many familiar characters and a few new ones as Alex Hastings tries to unravel a new mystery whilst struggling to keep her head above water at work.