Writer In Residence
Having sorted out what I need to re-write , I decided to head down to France. Mum and Dave were back in the UK leaving the house in Beaulieu empty and ready for a writer in residence. I drove down on the 23rd August into blisteringly hot weather. After about 12 hours I reached the house, via the local Super U to pick up some food and drink, and the temperature was still in the high 30's. Mum and Dave's place is in central France, in the middle of a rural district. It's picturesque and quiet, apart from the odd tractor trundling by. The silence is uncanny. Nothing, no sound at all. After the first day I realised that this was not true. There were no artificial sounds, just the glorious sound of nature. The view from the back porch is stunning - vast open skies that seem to go on forever. If I can't get inspired to work here it will be because I'm simply overwhelmed by the stunning beauty of the place. I soon found a routine. I rise...