It’s been a writing time for me. Well, writing and agonising. I’ve come to the realization that this is normal, so I should stop beating my breast about it. Some people seem to write with a compulsion that results in thousands of words a day (I’m looking at you Ainslie Paton) and others like me approach my craft like a sculptor about to work on marble with a spoon. Very slowly and with a lot of effort.
Don’t know why. All I know is that’s the way it is. I sometimes get filled with gloom when I read various Twitter and Facebook friends announce their latest publication and I’m still dithering over the same scene, but what the hell. It’s my process and years of trying to change it haven’t worked.
The key for me is to feel good about what I’m doing even if it’s slow. So I’m in the feeling-good space in stead of the why-am-I-kidding-myself-I-can’t-do-this space.
I’m working on a romantic suspense lite (a mystery without a murder) and another more gritty mystery with romantic elements. Actually, I have about five projects at the point of more than just ideas, so I chip away at all of them.
This website has had a bit of a makeover, including a page with pictures from my garden. Those who follow me on Twitter know I break out and have a binge of garden tweets, so I thought I’d put some here.
It’s winter. In the Blue Mountains, that’s serious stuff. One degree Celsius this morning with more to come. Sleeted the other day. This means slow cooking and red wine. I’ve been perusing Cathryn Hein’s Friday Feast and Louise Reynolds’s Cooking the Books for inspiration.
I did have a great time in Melbourne last week and caught up with Anne Gracie. I’m happy to report I led her astray with wine at lunch and shopping on Brunswick Street (jewelry, books and gorgeous smelly stuff from Klein’s).
Then I stayed with my sister and we did the Hollywood Costumes Exhibition (Scarlett O’Hara’s green dress and Cruella de Villes black and white suits were fab!), the Australian Impressionists in France exhibition and went to the Heide Museum of Modern Art to take in some Fiona Hall. All wonderful.
I have a poster of Hall’s Paradisus Terestris on my wall. People do a double take when they look closely at it. 
But it’s back to spoon on marble. Patty Griffin’s new album American Kid helps.
