Back to school

My tan has faded. Toddler is back at nursery. Holidays are well and truly over. In fact I’ve been back at my desk – old kitchen table covered in oat cake crumbs – for – big gulp – two weeks already. And where my third book should be – document title, ‘tbc’ – is blank. Terrifyingly blank. I’ve written two novels now but I don’t think starting a new one gets any easier. It’s tempting to lie in bed (yes, essential part of the freeform creative process) fantasising about the moment when I tap in the words ‘The End’ rather than working out the intricacies of plot or actually writing, which is, in truth, often a bit of a slog, rather than a rapturous form of self expression. Nudging ideas into my notebook, I attempt to channel the person who wrote the first two books so efficiently but it’s difficult, like trying to channel a slimmer self while eating a doughnut. But I am not despairing. I have displacement activities to be getting on with. My UK paperback comes out this week. (Anxiety: will my sales hold up without the friends and family who dutifully bought the hardback at the bequest of my mother?) I’m gearing up for my US publishing date in January, which is just so exciting because there’s something about being published in America that makes me feel grown-up and rather glamorous. And there is a Chanel sample sale next week. Sure to get the muse going, no?