I’m an author?

It’s been a quiet couple of days where, apart from walking, cycling, running, writing and knitting, we’ve not done a lot. We’ve based ourselves at the ACSI site at Vendres-Plage throughout. It’s one of about ten sites in a row that back onto a long, brown sandy beach. The site has about one hundred pitches and about one hundred holiday homes. It is soulless, but functional. And there three of us on the site. It must be the end of the season…

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It’s French half term (we think) but the town three miles down the road lacks that holiday feel, but that could be because Mrs Sun is still with you lot and not bothered with us Ladleys. However there are still plenty of MHs and campervans skitting about the place. It is a French obsession and seems to becoming more so every time we cross the channel. There is the odd non-French van (we have a Swiss here), but mostly it’s La Belle France that take to the highways – in their country.

And why not? I don’t think I need to rehearse the benefits of what we do here. Do I?

the baguette lady

the baguette lady

Last night I had a Skype call from the Riyadh readers (thanks Annie). It was fun. They’d all read UH and the views were positive. What was different for me was the unsaid prefix ‘so you’re an author…why did you do this, or that?’ I’m an author? Well I guess I am. And the questions they asked weren’t questions like ‘why did you bother to write such a rubbish book.’ It was more, ‘why did you make the protagonists do that?’ Gave me a warm feeling, it really did.

Best of all, from an American lady: ‘why are the baddies from the States?’ It was half in jest, but I still had to be explain myself.

And the writing continues. I’m starting chapter eight today and, after 36,000 words I reckon I’m about a third of the way through. Still loving it!

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Moving on today further east. The weather already looks like it’s perked up a bit which can only add to our general sense of ‘ahhhhhh, that’s good.’ Doing this is like having an all-over body massage. I won’t mention who, in my dreams, the hands might belong to. (C’s of course!)

Have a great rest of week.

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