This is the café where we had brunch yesterday. It’s a wonderfully eclectic former cinema with high ceilings, ancient décor and rickety wooden tables; a sublime place where you can sit and have a family meal alongside someone reading the Sunday newspapers over a coffee.
The reason for our visit? We were all celebrating one of those weeks where we’ve enjoyed some accomplishments. Nothing major, just those little successes in life that may seem insignificant to those outside our little group but everything to the individual involved. For my part, after several months of break, I’ve started working on a new writing project.
My motivation over the summer was lacklustre at best and any time I did spend at the computer was mainly concentrated on faffing and fiddling with my latest novel before we start the official edits later this year. The day job kept me extra busy and my spare time was filled with long evenings drinking wine in the garden with my husband, cycle rides and days out with the family.
I’m not sure when or how the turning point came. Some of it may be due to the cooler weather and the days shortening, pulling me back to indoor activities. However, my motivation was certainly kick-started this week by a book club I had dinner with on Tuesday night. They were a lovely group of ladies and what struck me was their sheer sense of enthusiasm for the books they have read and enjoyed. In short, it was infectious.
It made me consider what I enjoy about the writing process: drawing up characters and watching them surprise me as they develop; working out those twists and turns so that the book moves at high tempo, enjoying the roll of the words as they reach the page. This is why I write, because I enjoy the buzz when something works and I read a passage back that makes the hairs on the back of arms stand on end. And I share my work in the hope that somebody else will read it and feel that same buzz.