THE SMALL THINGS

Writing is such an odd business. On some days, I feel as if I am wading through mud. My addled brain has nothing of use in it. I write becau...

Quite a long time ago, with a lot of sweating and swearing and yelping, I hit the deadline for the manuscript of my current book. I whacked ...

There is a moment in a book when I think I am editing and slashing and cutting, killing darlings with a ruthless hand, slaying those irrelev...

I found my trot. There it was, all the time, down the back of the sofa. The red mare, moving lightly within herself on a loose rein, as com...

Drum roll, please. I have finished the fifth draft. This is not quite as drum-roly as it might be, on account of the fact that I was suppos...

Author’s note: really don’t know what I’m writing about at the moment, so the poor Dear Readers need to put their Forgiving Hats on. Or, at ...

A very interesting work day today. I should know every damn thing there is to know about writing a novel by now. I’ve read all the manuals a...

For a glancing moment, the sun comes out and Scotland glimmers and glitters in the light. The red mare lifts her head, amazed. Then the clou...

Good work today. The mists are slowly clearing. Yes, yes, says the unflinching, critical brain (the good critic, who is galvanised and const...

The work starts to shift. People sometimes wonder why it takes so long to write a book. I wonder why it takes so long, especially when I can...

Somewhere, on a train in Germany, my agent is reading my book. This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. She has to like...

Yesterday, at 10.47pm, I went viral. It was absolutely terrifying. I only went a little bit viral. I was not trending on the internet. But ...