My editing process is undergoing something of an enforced hiatus at the moment. After a very difficult week last week Arthur and I are now in London, drawn by two family birthdays and some important new babies to meet!

I packed very optimistically, bringing everything I needed to pick up where I’d left off last Tuesday. But away from the structures and the solitude of our life in Brixham it seems unlikely that I’m actually going to get much done.

But that might not be altogether a bad thing…

I’m ahead of where I thought I’d be by now, my planned one chapter a day having galloped into two then three and sometimes even four as the story drew me back in. In fact I’ve only got two chapters to rework before I’m at the end of the novel – at which point I’m planning on one last sweep through (for now) to pick up anything I’ve missed and add in some bursts of narrative from a different perspective.

And in the meantime, whilst I’m traversing London to catch up with different friends and give Arthur a flavour of the capital, I’m going to open myself up to London’s spirit. I’m going to let its essence infuse my bones once again, remind myself of the multitude of tiny ways it differs from Devon. Because Grace’s story unfolds on these streets, streets which once were so achingly familiar to me but which seem so far away when I’m sitting at my desk staring at the sea.

I may not be able to do much work whilst I’m here, but when I’m finally able to sit back down at that desk next Monday morning I will hopefully be carrying with me those all-important details that will enhance my novel’s sense of place. And the fact that I get to immerse myself once more in London life whilst I’m gathering them is all part of the fun.