Hello all,
This is Molly who, in her old age, has taken over my desk and left me a narrow twelve inches at the edge.
True to form, December, was a mish-mash of work (writing the new book and the launch of Storms in the Cotswolds), Christmas festivities, Christmas music, and family visits.
I finished the rough draft of the biography I’m writing and now look forward to several months of the best part of writing—making it sing. I will also have to spend some time rechecking sources of information. Sometimes there is not definitive source and I have to consult several sources and go with the one most likely, in my opinion, to be correct. I am not planning a research trip until May so I can hunker down and spend time with my book, well, books. I know I will be starting a new series, likely in February so the pressure in on.
During that time, everyone I know seems to be planning a trip to Mexico to get away from the rain here. I have visions of the town being deserted with only me at my computer and Carly and Molly watching me. I’m urging a Pollyanna attitude on myself. I need to be grateful that there has been no snow, that although the winds have kept me from paddling in the outrigger, I can walk on the beach. My daffodils have popped their green shoots up. That’s going too far. Foolish plants. We can get frost in January; in fact, we are highly likely to get frost in January. Still, they might know something I don’t. Perhaps we will have a winter so mild they can bloom in January. I don’t plan to put money on that notion.
I read with pleasure the article that told me independent bookshops were on the rise. It seems Covid reminded people of the joys of reading.
Happy reading, everyone. May 2025 be a good year for you.