I am really enjoying reading about the incredible and at times chaotic creative community who used to live in the Dorset village of Chaldon Herring, with at its core the Powys family. On a weekend outing two weeks ago, we decided to go and have a first look around the village. I had just started on the book then, and will most certainly return now that I have almost finished Writers in a Dorset landscape (found in my fascinating local second-hand bookshop, Books Afloat in Weymouth) and know more about the various buildings and events which happened in the 20s and 30s there.
I will go back regularly to see the changing seasons and because I might use the village as one of the locations in my fourth novel, Hell Lane, in particular the splendidly gothic Old Vicarage.
I haven't found any time to write recently, event though I was determined to get started again on The Right Place. I will now resume writing when I am on holiday in mid-December and will put together a writing and publishing schedule for The Right Place, which has been woefully neglected - real life has been winning the fight recently... which is incredibly boring... I am surrounded by so many inspiring places (buildings, landscapes...) that my brain is just full of images and words which I cannot find the time to put into a coherent whole.
I think therefore I write.
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