I'm being asked - regularly - whether I'm enjoying the lockdown as it must surely give me more time to write?
The answer is no. I have far less time to write and far more on my mind. I have my own family to consider, my almost-blind-now, recently widowed mother, and a number of self-employed friends who can't earn a living. So, while I get to read a little more than usual, my mind is just too tied up in the here and now to be able to escape into the fictional world I want to create.

There is also a feeling which has laid anchor in my belly that what I do isn't really worthy of the times in which we are living. That is to say, to place my own central character in a fictional jeopardy, when there is so much real uneasiness, fear and heartbreak, seems a little shallow and pointless. of course, being a guilt-ridden author means that I may just be making all this up as an excuse not to write, but it feels real to me.

I am exceptionally busy with my other career: bridge and poker writer, and now online broadcaster. I have moved from lecturing live to small groups, to presenting online to particpants from all over the world, sometimes with audiences running into the several hundreds. The preparation beforehand is immensely time-consuming and, although the performance - when I feel that I've made people hapopy - is satisfying, is is not the same as creating something which doesn't disappear into the ether.

I'm looking forward to a time when I can return to my novels, two of which are under way and one is with my agent, although I am not entirely happy with it.
In the meantime, I hope that, if you haven't dipped into the beatiful yet frightneing world of Vaugh de Vries yet, you'll give my first foru novels a try. You'll find them an escape from reality - one way or another...