It started well, trimming and refining the voice of a new piece. After an hour my mind skipped off-task to play with a little self-congratulation. Instead of the piece to hand, it was composing a blog about how well the writing was going.
Back to work. This isn't that blog. This comes from the tired end of the day.
It's tempting to self-dramatize writing, to invest in 'being a writer'. It uses up the writing time.
Students are beginning to arrive on campus. I'm working in reverse, about to bounce off London for the weekend, but order is setting in. I'm installed in home and office here in Hull, the peripherals are emerging out of packing boxes, my data (ie books in progress) have been recovered from my crashed computer, and soon I'll be online at home (part of Hull's curiosity is its private telephone and broadband system, a quaint monopoly, that sees the city studded with white telephone boxes).
So this is just to let you know that service on this blog should resume shortly. I don't know if it will be normal, but it's what must pass for it.