Hitting the Couch

"Is this prime, quiet writing time for you or are you taking a break?"

By the time you read this I will be done. I'll have finished the first draft of a book, printed it out (dancing around to . . . haven't decided yet, but probably 'All I want for Christmas is You'), and slammed my office door. With me on the outside.

I'm going to move my pile of Christmas reading - carefully curated and then hoarded all year -  to the coffee-table. I'll light a fire, put the kettle on for the first of many cups of tea and then . . .  plamph! (That's the sound of a writer's bum hitting the couch, in case you didn't know).

More will be added on Christmas Day, if the number of rectangular parcels is anything to go by.

The two weeks until 12th Night when I start up again are the most relaxing of the whole year.

The house is stuffed with food and drink, so when friends come round there's no more to do than select some and spread it on the table. There's a pile of corny old films on DVD. It's California so there are sunny days to go walking and cycling. (It's California, so we also need to cut the grass at least once, though.)

Long Skypes with distant loved ones, sorties to the supermarkets for more feast-fixings, Christmas jigsaw-puzzles on the kitchen table with BBC Radio 4 on i-player. (If the boss lets me. Last night she was in two minds)

One of my favourite Christmas bits is counting up the year's loose change to go present-shopping. Neil and I started this tradition when we were acutely broke and it's stuck. We're constrained to one town, one afternoon (before we meet up for tea), and half the change-pot each. I recommend it for anyone who doesn't actually need more stuff. There's a bookshop, an ironmonger and a charity shop - what more could you want, really?

I hope you all have a wonderful winter break, whatever you're breaking from and breaking to.

See you next year.

Cx