The wind and rain compete with each other outside cottage number 5 here in Annamaghkerrig and you’d think that someone who professes, to a numbingly boring capacity, to be a lover of Wuthering Heights, would be inspired to write. Well, you’d be wrong. What I have done is update my site (stating the obvious), sent four emails that I’ve been delaying because they all involve the beginnings of making a decision, started three new books, yes, three, in the last two hours and it would have been four but it wasn’t available on Kindle, so then I went looking for it on various book sites only to discover that the cheapest copy started around £34, but libraries Ireland had a copy that I could request, if, ahem, I was a member, which I, ahem, wasn’t (I really hope none of my second level students read this, pot calling the kettle and all that), so I joined online but have to wait to go into the library…back in Kildare…to collect my card, before I can request a copy of the book, but, hey, the good news is they have it, sitting tantalisingly, in a tiny checkout trolley  somewhere out there in a space I can never get my head around (come on the Luddites/long live the Luddites), oh and it doesn’t end there, I have made lunch (Pasta and tomato sauce with peppers, celery and onions) drank three cups of Jasmine green tea, 2 pints of water, turned on and off lights to try out the mood change they might bring to the rooms and me, looked up cafes on trip adviser within a 40 mile radius, read the title of every book on the bookcase in the room here in cottage number 5, stood in the panelled door/window gazing out on the courtyard..kinda hoping someone would give a fleeting glance up and think it was Miss Worby’s ghost(tee hee), pared three pencils that didn’t need paring and now I’ve just wasted lead and…not to put too fine a point on it (Oh, joy, don’t you just love it when a pun comes to you like that)..and in short, I have spectacularly failed to add a single syllable to my debut novel that will never be that debutante going to that novel ball if I don’t do something soon about this brick wall I’m facing…actually figuratively and literally. Rant over. Phew. Now it’s time for a fourth cup of tea…