The swallows have gone - and so has the summer

The swallows went on Monday. About nine-thirty in the morning there was a terrific racket going on in the garden and I thought they must be terrorising the cat again. All summer gangs of them have been dive-bombing her from every direction so she could only get to the bottom of the garden by working her way underneath the rose bushes and the shrubs. The reason, I discovered, was a nest built in the wood store at the end of the barn. My poor little cat has never caught a bird in her life but clearly the swallows were keen to stop her even thinking about it.

When I heard the noise they were making on Monday I rushed outside and there were masses of them. They soon began to line up on the electricity wires and gradually the noise subsided. It went very quiet: the birds were looking this way and that, as if they were waiting for a signal. There was a strange tension in the air for a minute and then suddenly they were off, swirling up into the sky in a huge mass and circling the house in farewell before turning west and disappearing over the hills. I'm glad I was there to see them go.

It's the end of summer when the swallows leave. Time to start preparing for winter which is depressing for some people but when you think about it, autumn comes first and this can be the best season of all.

Time and frustrating printers

It's about time I added a new post! Some people seem to write regularly but usually when I've finished a day's work, that's it; my mind closes down. Yet it's good to know that so many people read my blogs and moan at me when I haven't added a new one. I think I must be a bit like a newspaper because what has happened in the previous days is old news and I forget. Some people tell me they make notes so that when they come to write a blog they have everything to hand. There seems to be so much else to do. As for Facebook and Twitter... When do people find the time?



This morning I have been struggling with a new printer - and I hate it! I bought it because it was on special offer, and now I know why. I really needed a printer, copier and scanner all in one because normally I use a simple laser printer but this thing is dreadful. It's noisy, slow and only prints out half a page. In desperation I am calling in a lad who lives up the road to see if he can improve things.

Life Goes On

I was sad to learn of the death of Dick Francis. I think I was one of the last people to interview him. He was very frail but helpful and courteous. He will be missed especially for his books but his son Francis will continue his legacy.

Work at the moment is a bit like the London bus system; nothing and then everything happens. It is so important to prioritise and make lists so that the right deadline is hit on time. I had a long chat with Sylvia Kent the other day and she is so positive and proactive that however gloomy I might feel at the beginning, I am refreshed and invigorated by the end. It's good to have friends like this.

I really couldn't do without Aimee Fry, my webmistress, either. Somehow she makes things seem so easy when I have turned to her in desperation after struggling for ages with my computer. Another bonus is that I have had so many compliments about my website and it is all due to Aimee. We talked about what I do and what I wanted on my site and she came up with some really interesting ideas. The only major thing I changed at the end was the coffee cup on the Links page. She put in a thick white cup and I told her I'd never drink from that so she quickly found a china one!

All creative people can get a bit low, especially at this time of the year. The cold and grey days don't help but then there are the snowdrops and aconites appearing. Spring is almost here.

That said, I have to get on. Three new commissions today. The problem is, which shall I start first?

Coming to the end of the year

So much seems to happen down here in Dorset that there is never a minute to spare! For some reason my deadlines all seem to arrive at once, however hard I try and spread them out. And so many friends come to stay. They realise I have to work and are not upset when I shut myself away in the study. That is part of the deal!

I have a little wood burner in the study that I have lit a few times when it is really cold weather and it makes such a difference. When I am sitting writing my feet and ankles can get really cold. The woodburner is a great help on a bitterly windy day. All the wood, which is a mixture of oak, ash, beech and sycamore, is stacked neatly at the end of the barn ready for whatever winter has in store.

Now I have to think about Christmas and the new year. It will be a hectic time as usual and then in January I have been asked to run a writing course in Dorchester. I'm really looking forward to it as I love being with other writers. Am I right in believing we think differently from people who are not writers?

Dick, Deadlines and Racing Down to Paignton

It has been such a busy time. Apart from being totally obsessed by the weather - something that is natural as I am English - all my deadlines seem to have come together. It was a foul day when I had to drive down to Paignton to interview Dick Francis and his son Felix. Dick lives in the Cayman Islands and was on a regular family holiday at the same hotel he had been staying at for well over 50 years. I read a couple of his books before I went and remembered how much I enjoyed them. There is a background of racing but the protagonists are usually in entirely different professions. Felix, who now writes the books with his father, made an interesting comment. He said his mother taught him about the importance of rhythm in writing and that sometimes he would work for an hour on a sentence to make it sound right.

After leaving the Francis family I called in for lunch with very old friends in Bishopsteignton. I have known them since I was three and I was their bridesmaid! It's lovely to know people for so long because they become as close as family. As you might expect, we picked up on conversation as though we had been chatting away yesterday. Then it was back on the road with heavy rain and wind making driving home a miserable experience.

Rain

This weekend is the Glastonbury Festival - which is not that far from where I live - and of course, it's raining. Not gentle rain but determined, strong, wet rain. Glastonbury festival-goers will love it; it's part of the fun, slopping around in mud. I'm glad it's raining because it means I don't have to water the pots or the new fruit trees I put in a while ago. Watering is currently the bane of my life. I do it each evening with a watering can and it's quite an effort carrying a gallon of water to the end of the garden. I really should get a hosepipe.

The sheep seem to have eaten all the grass in the field and so now have moved on. We miss them looking over the gate . I think the younger cat does, too. She didn't quite know what to make of them as she had never been so close to a sheep but it was clear she didn't want them in the garden. Neither did I - but for different reasons.

There are so many things going on in the country at this time of the year. We have a local magazine - we have several - that lists all events everywhere. It covers a huge area. Friends from Somerton suggested a trip to a specialist plant sale near Salisbury that they'd spotted in the magazine. We went on a Sunday and it was there I found new garden furniture. I had been looking for about a year with no luck. As with so many things, when you are not looking you find what you want.

And the rain still falls. Ah, well. I'd better get on with some work. Procrastination is the thief of time, I am told. Yet sometimes, for a writer, it's good because it clears the head of rubbish.

Warm Mornings, Interviews and Journalism.

One of the reasons I really enjoy working from home is that I have unexpected visitors. Because I start very early, it is a welcome break when someone drops by at about ten o’clock and I can stop for coffee. On warm sunny mornings we sit out in the garden and put the world to rights.

Since I moved to Dorset I have done more telephone interviews. I hate them with a passion! You have to look someone straight in the eye for them to trust you and know that you are only going to ask questions about writing and not about murky love lives! There is the problem of ‘the pause’, too. If there is a pause, is the interviewee waiting for the next question or thinking? But, as many other journalists have told me, I can do the interview sitting in my bath robe with wet hair and no-one is any the wiser!

It was almost a disaster when I interviewed the popular American crime writer Michael Connelly. First of all, the telephone developed a loud buzz on every handset so I had to use my mobile to re-schedule the time. Then, when we started to talk he was giving me one word answers. That was probably my fault because I was tired and not asking sensible questions that cannot be answered in a word. It was the end of the day and I think he was tired too but again, this is the trouble with interviewing on the telephone. However, it developed into a really good interview and I enjoyed writing it.

I went to Bridport the other evening to hear my friend Katie Fforde give a talk in the lovely library they have there about her new book, Love Letters. There was a good turnout and some very interesting questions. Afterwards, we went for dinner in The Bull Hotel and Charlotte, the publicity director who was accompanying Katie on her promotional tour, bought us champagne to mark the end of a successful trip.

It reminded me that I am giving a talk about my life as a freelance journalist in a month. I seem to get myself in all sorts of scrapes when things should be so straightforward but I have met some very interesting people over the years.