Just back from Tuscany; beautiful but sooo hot. It was lovely to sit by the pool and do nothing but swim and read.

Yesterday I received the copy-edited version of The Songwriter. The editor has done an amazing job - I feel humbled by just how many spelling mistakes and misprints she has spotted. I must have read it a dozen times and didn't notice them.

This is practically my last chance to change anything in the manuscript. I feel half-elated and half-reluctant to let it go. Can't wait to see the new cover. Hopefully I'll fall in love with it.

After this I'm going to start the next book, which is set in Russia in 1920 and New York in 1950. In an interview for The List Magazine today the journalist asked me how I felt being a historical novelist. I realized that I don't actually consider myself as one - more a novelist who writes about the past.

Think I need a little trip back to New York, purely for research, of course.