Isn't it ironic?
I moved to Dorset three years ago in order to be able to walk around the actual setting of my novels and find inspiration in this ancient of landscape. Now, I can no longer jump in the car and wander around the countryside and let it inspire me...
Therefore, I am back to the books I have bought about the county and its secret places, myths and legends...
The problem with it is that I will not be getting the smells, the noises and the feel of the air...
I will not be able to live the countryside.
I only hope that I am going to make a reasonable amount of progress on my first draft...
I think therefore I write.
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