When I tell people I’ve written a novel, I think the gentler amongst them look at me as if to say “wow, what an adventure that must have been!” Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.
There were times I desperately wanted to be that consummate bohemian artist, living frugally in a Parisian loft answering life’s call by creating great works of art. In truth, being a writer, especially a part-time writer, is tantamount to self-harm. Whilst working on ‘The Village’ I found myself close to tears on many occasions as the seemingly impossible task of managing relationships with family, employers and others was pushed to the limit.