Tempus fugit

The days are growing shorter. The nights creep in, stealing more than their fair share of my hours, and summer is fading fast. I find this alarming. Not that I don't like autumn - I do. I love its muted colours, its smell of damp earth, and all the kids going back to school instead of clogging up my favourite bakery. But autumn heralds the dreaded D word. Deadline.

It is approaching at a frightening speed. Guilt has taken up permanent residence in my lap and if I skive off for the day to yomp over Dartmoor or amble across a beach to watch the cormorants' amazing feats of underwater breath-control, I suffer for it the next day. Not long ago I heard a successful crime writer say, 'I don't agonise over it. I just write.'

So that is my new motto. Just write.