It was in a converted pigsty a few miles from here, in 2002, that I wrote the first draft of Translations. I'd been stuck at home with bronchitis and wanted to escape. Foot and mouth had left holiday cottages empty, and so I was able to rent the pigsty (which was very sweet). I took a pound of coffee, my very first suitcase and an elderly 'laptop' running windows 3.1 and textpad. Without a car I was forced to walk everywhere.
The story came out in huge chunks - 4 hours at a time.
This time there are more distractions (i.e., company) but I am gratified to discover that the story is coming in big blocks. Must be all that sky.
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