Spring is here and I am looking out at my magnolia tree in full flower outside my study window. If that scrawny old tree can produce such magnificence, then hey, so can I! Where's my pen?
Spring is my favourite time of year. Not only does the garden look glorious but also, after the lazy, sluggish, dead days of winter, the blood starts to flow faster. The heart beats stronger. Each year I find this is my most prolific period of writing.
The new book is well under way - I can't tell you too much about it yet, but suffice to say it is one final outing into Russia. This time under Tsar Nicholas II. So it's all grand balls and fancy dresses, a radical change from the miseries of the Stalinist regime.
This will probably be my last book to take place in Russia because I'm already planning to move on to pastures new with the following book. But notice that I said 'probably'. Never say 'never again'!
The wrist is well on the mend, though still on a strict physio schedule, and the new bicycle that caused all the problems is up for sale. Good riddance!