A Still Small Oasis of Writing Calm

It is frantic at the moment. Course, meetings, seminars – two in one day, deadlines looming, writing my CV, for a probation review – I’ve had weeks to do that and tinkered with it now and then- quite frequently, actually, - and still had to hurry to finish it. Things to be checked. I was right, but if I hadn’t have checked, I wouldn’t have been – somebody or other’s law, I think.

Now, with gritted teeth, I am going to spend two hours of my “research day” on my own writing. Jabbering away at the back of my mind is the fact that I’m not quite ready for Monday, I’m not even quite ready for today – goodness, an important book came out yesterday, and I haven’t even told my colleagues – maybe you’re one of them and you’re reading this – MAKING CHANGES CAME OUT YESTERDAY. Back of my mind is that I have to get ready to go to Wales, that we’re having a book launch there, that I haven’t read the submissions for the critique sessions on Saturday morning – but that can be bed-time reading – must remember to print it off. And I don’t know where I’m going Saturday evening. Orders are pouring in for the book.

All of this screams at me.

Yet I shall write for my two hours. Because if I don’t write, none of the rest of it makes any