You know all those writers who say that writing keeps them sane? The ones who swear that even if they won the lottery tomorrow, they’d still get up each morning and face the computer keyboard with vigour and joy? The ones who would die if they couldn’t write?
Well, I’m not one of them.
At least not at the moment. At the moment, I would take my lottery winnings, invest in a really good hammock (and possibly a beautiful modern climate controlled glass house in case of rain — though the sun is quite gorgeous this morning), and I would read and doze and doze and read, and occasionally get up to make a heap of toast with gooseberry jam. And I wouldn’t stop until I’d read all the books I really wanted to read, which might be….never.